As it happens, I am the fucking hall monitor.
I don’t know anything at all about pop culture or popular music from the past 30 years, but I’ve also never heard of any critically acclaimed independent artists.
Somehow, my internet still suffers horribly when subject to pictures in avatars and posts.
Warning: PDF
Does it hurt the cows when you ork them?
I call the two ladies who work in an office Cow-Orkers and had to explain the origin.
Sig line:
Can’t think of one, but you get it, right?
My liver is turning green, and my toenails are falling off. Should I go see a doctor?
Balrog
And no, that argument predates not only the SDMB but the WWW. It goes back to BBS days and for all I know Rivendell itself.
Do you still hear the orking of the cows, Clarice?
Evil Nazi groundhogs.
The horror of blimps.
“You, sir, are a putz.”
Ice-blue dildo.
Fucko off!
Mod! They’re breathing on me!
There’s this thing called the internet.
Google is your friend.
I hopped out of the shower to make this edit.
Ow the shampoo it burns.
I keep the ice cream in the basement next to the squid.
I’ll have the pics of my new junior feline overlord posted in a day or two on (hosting service of choice)
How do I post a picture here?
That’s been established; now we’re just dickering over the price.
Hey, who’s in charge of the goat these days?
Oh geez, no one has fed that poor thing since I’ve been staff.
I mean he was retired to a nice farm up north. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
The hamsters are slowing down again.
When come back bring pie.
20 minutes at the bottom of the Marianas trench.
I burning you dog.