BT, I got huge kudos from your boss today....
 

I am pleased...
;-)))


Attention Sig Whores,
TCG is buying 100 more sigs next week,
and you heard it from me FIRST!

You claimed Lensman was gonna cancel this sig thing dec 1.

Serge, like always, your so full of shit.

After todays anal raping i figured you would recover for while by not posting here but you seem to like to be abused and make a fool of yourself.

Hey maybe its even time for another poll for more self destruction.

good work son! ;-)))))

Lensman doesn't run TCG, in case you didn't know...
;-)))

I convinced TCG owner to extend the sig purchases,
rather than throw poor trash to McDonald counters..

and we ALL appreciate your efforts of promoting TCG today,
good job for a worthless whore...

you see, you CAN do a good job when you are led by Serge...
;-))))

why do you think I put TCG in the poll and not Lars?
ask yourself,
WHO is paying Serge to rally battuses?
;-))))

Fag.

:thumbsup

hi son, i will send you more autographs you sound upset ;-(((

run with it, son!
;-))

Agreed. Still, Serge manages to drive more and more pageviews to his threads and more and more people to his board. I will never understand how Lens can tolerate this. Must be a business thing. Or maybe Serge gives good head. Wouldn't surprise me, with over 60+ years of experience.

he is upset because I made him work for his money for a change
;-)))

what goes on the Green Mile - stays on Green Mile
;-)))

http://www.bewarethecheese.com/ca%20...rs%20kudos.jpg

yaay!

(Notice the snicker)

How long has he already been spamming here? His board moves slower than his grandma in a wheelchair.

He spends a few hours a day here to spam his shit and gets 1 new member a day that posts 1 new thread a week.

His board is a failure traffic wise.

People who say hes smart by making all these posts here are wrong. Way too much effort, way too little effect.

yep, oprano is destined to be the new, less cluttered gfy.

100, wow, some major bling bling starting to roll in ;)
WG

never, because sig whore battus I made jump all day long doesn't beleive so!

sorry, quiet, but I gotta go with battus,
you are just a lousy self made millionair, there are thousands of them on GFY, whatta you know????

just kiss my ring and say "thank you"
;-)))

*cough*

I think JB deserves more kudos...

Serge, whats the next poll gonna be?

Maybe you should make one only you can win.

Like whos older:

Battuss
or
Serge

I feel sorry for what happened to you earlier on today.

yes, he too
;-)))

Q knows. :thumbsup

me too...
$3000 I got from JB for making you jump weren't worth it
;-)))

thanks God you are stupid and easy to manipulate,
or I'd give him his money back
;-)))

You are not ignoring me are you??

;-((((

Please make a scan of the check.

ask John,
he handles the money, I don't, common knowlege, son
;-)
plus...I don't have the scanner....for the last 5 years
;-)))

Good night Serge,, good of you to be such a classy loser today...but hey there is always a tommorrow right?

the glass is half full!

Have dinner with JoeE again?

battus, and if by the end of today
Traffic Cash Gold is not ahead of "so",
YOUR next check is in jeopardy
http://www.gofuckyourself.com/showth...6&pagenumber=2

You gonna do a branding type deal on Oprano or are you talking about selling your sig?

WG

you go to bed so early?
you shouldn't have inhailed, son...Clinton didn't
;-)))

no, Oprano is not involved...only ME
;-)))

MikeAI has his buisness and I have mine on the side
;-))

http://cotac.com/web/

nope...that was a last time
;-))

http://cotac.com/joee.jpg

I am glad. Cuss you are one of the most reputable people in the industry weather it be good or bad! Look forward to hanging out with you sometime. We are Floridians so maybe we can have some dinner sometime!:winkwink:

this is up to JB...he is paying for the next dinner,
if he invites you-
I'll be glad,
if he doesn't...I'll have no choice but to invite you on my own
;-))

Lens ... serge ... and all the other originals all the same, they all make good money at the end of the day and don't really care.

They were here at the beginning, they wrote the rules. The dont have to follow the rules, these guys own the game. Serge is a master at trolling boards, you gotta give credit.

and please, don't cut battuss off,
he is a bit slow, but he means good and works his butt hard...

I promise I motivate him more next month
;-))))

Sausage, he KNOWS that...
on Oprano he posts different than he posts on GFY
;-)
some people think he is my lover
;-))))
http://www.oprano.com/msgboard/index...=ST&f=1&t=7609

Dont worry about me.

Anyway, off to bed. 5:30 here.

let me know if you want me to put up some more polls tomorrow Serge.

;-)))

yes, I do, and this time make sure so loses!

better luck next time, son,
go to bed and get some rest.

http://www.citibank.com sends you their regards
;-))))

This person is on your Ignore List. To view this post click [here]

Serge, when is the next card game scheduled...i wanna play:glugglug

you never answer your phone you BUM

No doubt, off to get some zzzzzzzzzzz's take it easy!!!!

do you know what "persona non grata" is?

last I heard, your entry fee is $100,000,000
please be guided accordingly!
;-))

Get The Fuck Out Of Here, You Fucking Pedophile. :glugglug

sexed, this one is for you
;-)))))

Fucker. :1orglaugh

At the sunset hour of one warm spring day two men were to be seen at
Patriarch's Ponds. The first of them--aged about forty, dressed in a greyish
summer suit--was short, dark-haired, well-fed and bald. He carried his
decorous pork-pie hat by the brim and his neatly shaven face was embellished
by black hornrimmed spectacles of preternatural dimensions. The other, a
broad-shouldered young man with curly reddish hair and a check cap pushed
back to the nape of his neck, was wearing a tartan shirt, chewed white
trousers and black sneakers.
The first was none other than Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz, editor of
a highbrow literary magazine and chairman of the management cofnmittee of
one of the biggest Moscow literary clubs, known by its abbreviation as
massolit; his young companion was the poet Ivan Nikolayich Poniryov who
wrote under the pseudonym of Bezdomny.
Reaching the shade of the budding lime trees, the two writers went
straight to a gaily-painted kiosk labelled'Beer and Minerals'.
There was an oddness about that terrible day in May which is worth
recording : not only at the kiosk but along the whole avenue parallel to
Malaya Bronnaya Street there was not a person to be seen. It was the hour of
the day when people feel too exhausted to breathe, when Moscow glows in a
dry haze as the sun disappears behind the Sadovaya Boulevard--yet no one had
come out for a walk under the limes, no one was sitting on a bench, the
avenue was empty.
'A glass of lemonade, please,'said Berlioz.
'There isn't any,'replied the woman in the kiosk. For some reason the
request seemed to offend her.
'Got any beer?' enquired Bezdomny in a hoarse voice.
'Beer's being delivered later this evening' said the woman.
'Well what have you got?' asked Berlioz.
'Apricot juice, only it's warm' was the answer.
'All right, let's have some.'
The apricot juice produced a rich yellow froth, making the air smell
like a hairdresser's. After drinking it the two writers immediately began to
hiccup. They paid and sat down on a bench facing the pond, their backs to
Bronnaya Street.Then occurred the second oddness, which affected Berlioz
alone. He suddenly stopped hiccuping, his heart thumped and for a moment
vanished, then returned but with a blunt needle sticking into it. In
addition Berlioz was seized by a fear that was groundless but so powerful
that he had an immediate impulse to run away from Patriarch's Ponds without
looking back.
Berlioz gazed miserably about him, unable to say what had frightened
him. He went pale, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief and thought: '
What's the matter with me? This has never happened before. Heart playing
tricks . . . I'm overstrained ... I think it's time to chuck everything up
and go and take the waters at Kislovodsk. . . .'
Just then the sultry air coagulated and wove itself into the shape of a
man--a transparent man of the strangest appearance. On his small head was a
jockey-cap and he wore a short check bum-freezer made of air. The man was
seven feet tall but narrow in the shoulders, incredibly thin and with a face
made for derision.
Berlioz's life was so arranged that he was not accustomed to seeing
unusual phenomena. Paling even more, he stared and thought in consternation
: ' It can't be!'
But alas it was, and the tall, transparent gentleman was swaying from
left to right in front of him without touching the ground.
Berlioz was so overcome with horror that he shut his eyes. When he
opened them he saw that it was all over, the mirage had dissolved, the
chequered figure had vanished and the blunt needle had simultaneously
removed itself from his heart.
'The devil! ' exclaimed the editor. ' D'you know, Ivan, the heat
nearly gave me a stroke just then! I even saw something like a hallucination
. . . ' He tried to smile but his eyes were still blinking with fear and his
hands trembled. However he gradually calmed down, flapped his handkerchief
and with a brave enough ' Well, now. . . ' carried on the conversation that
had been interrupted by their drink of apricot juice.
They had been talking, it seemed, about Jesus Christ. The fact was that
the editor had commissioned the poet to write a long anti-religious poem for
one of the regular issues of his magazine. Ivan Nikolayich had written this
poem in record time, but unfortunately the editor did not care for it at
all. Bezdomny had drawn the chief figure in his poem, Jesus, in very black
colours, yet in the editor's opinion the whole poem had to be written again.
And now he was reading Bezdomny a lecture on Jesus in order to stress the
poet's fundamental error.
It was hard to say exactly what had made Bezdomny write as he
had--whether it was his great talent for graphic description or complete
ignorance of the subject he was writing on, but his Jesus had come out,
well, completely alive, a Jesus who had really existed, although admittedly
a Jesus who had every possible fault.