Wassup bitch. How about we finish up those 3 scripts we’re halfway done with and put down the mother fuckin’ PS2 controller for a bit?
How about we find a way to actually get some sleep in the middle of the week! Every fucking day does not need to begin at 8:00 a.m. and end at 4:30 a.m. the next morning with a huge buzz! That shit really slows us down when we ARE awake!
How about we get some god-damn excersice!!! Situps, push-ups! Come on! We’ve already had one gray hair!!! It’s all dopwnhill from here!!! Anyone who drinks as much beer as we do really needs to counter that or we’ll end up looking like a pot-bellied baffoon.
Take some mother fuckin classes:
Music Theory - You need a better understanding of how music works mechanically before you can take you turntablism to the next level!!
Some form of combat - Boxing, Judo, Tai Chi, Tae Kwon Do, something for christ sake!!! We like all of these styles!!
Final Cut Pro Classes - Those movies aren’t going to edit themselves!!! Figure out how to use that damn stuff!!!
Finish your website!!! - Your company needs the exposure!!! You know how to use the dreamweaver software!!! Now get of your ass and do it!!!
Call that cute blonde!!! Why do we never call girls back these days? I’m all for playing it cool, but when a cute girl gives you her number - don’t let it sit at the bottom of the pile!!! Calling her 2 months later and leaving a message to call you pisses em off!!!
Finally, fuckface - Do our god-damned son of a fuck bitch of a load of laundry!!! We’re going to have to start wearing pants twice if you don’t do it tonight!!!
The scary thing is, when I’m thinking to myself, I really do refer to myself as we. Bizarre. What a fuckin’ wierdo.
DaLovin’ Dj
Ace, look, no one needs another martyr, ok? Christ-on-a-crouton, allright, passion, passion we love it, but one of these days you’re going to be killed by one of those windmills you keep tilting at, bucko.
Hey, what are you trying to prove? The world isn’t going to stop and change because you say so! Listen, screwed-up priority boy, Leave the mother-fucking problems of the universe to itself, and work on something that makes a goddamn bit of difference like your fucking federal relief disaster area of an apartment. Dumbass.
[giggle] What a great idea, squeegee! 
It’s taken me quite awhile to come up with something to flame myself with because I’m just so perfect. 
But here goes.
celestina, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You need to get your ass in gear and stop waiting until the last minute to do stuff all the time. You’re just too cocky for your own damn good sometimes, and one of these days it’s going to come back and bite you in the butt. Do you hear me? Now quit procrastinating, come out of the clouds, quit dreaming of your home planet, focus, and just fix your damn space ship already so you can get the hell off of earth! You can’t fix a space ship overnight, you know. [sigh]
GET THE FUCK OFF OF YOUR LAZY, WEAK FLAT ASS AND GET TO WORK.
AND DON’T GO BACK TO THE THREAD TO POINT OUT THAT YOU CAN’T PUNCTUATE!
Earth to Dragonbitch – nobody cares. Trust me on this.
Og sort rubbish! Blinkie go in bin!
Damnit, quit shamelessly plugging that website that you and Ogre have started!
RaCha’ar, you silly little bitch. Stop roleplaying. Go write your thesis, do your myth and film project, and do your Greek homework. Stop skipping classes on a whim. Just because you’re graduating college in a month doesn’t mean you can start slacking. And don’t even fucking get me STARTED on how your lazy, worthless ass won’t get a job when you get out of school. You dicked around for four years, and you’re in for a rude awakening.
Oh, and stop leading Sean around. Dump him or make an effort to fix what’s wrong. This is just plain cruel. Josh did it to you so you turn around and do it to someone else? Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you again.
Dear Self,
Please stop waking me up in the middle of the night, asking me for sex. I need my sleep.
Love,
cercaria
Like super_head, I would like to bluntly remind myself to stop plugging my damn website. It’s boring. It’s inane. The background is an unidentifiable color. And the Hot Guys and Hot Chicks take waaaay too long to load. (can’t fault my taste, though … mmmm, Claudia Black …)
So stop coming back to this thread, and don’t click the sig box! Don’t, I tell you! Mouse … away … from sig box …
Oh yotz.
Neidhart, you are, and will always be, a complete and utter loser.
You still live with your mother.
You don’t drive.
You are a mediocre-to-poor conversationalist and are about as much fun to be around as a 55-gallon drum of rancid lard.
You don’t have any real friends - don’t belong anywhere and never will.
You’re such a useless, boring, third-rate five-and-dime imitation of a human being, it’s no wonder everybody you meet is always “too busy” to hang out with you.
You have never fallen in love, which is a damned good thing, because the chances of any woman even being attracted to me are slightly less than the odds of a major blizzard striking Rio at Carneval time.
In short, you are a Useless Eater. Go away.
Javaman, enough about the fucking Sackie already.
Dammit, Gabe, you and Jon have been broken up for over a month now. Repeat after me: “bro-ken up.” As in no longer together. So stop fucking obsessing about him already, and if you can’t do that, get the fuck away from him.
As a correlary. . .be HAPPY with yourself. No, you’re never gonna be skinny; but, hell, you know that. You’re not obese. You’re not in danger. You can run just fine. If it pisses you off that much, lose 10 pounds, and everything’ll be FINE. But even if you don’t do that, stop being so insecure.
You are not totally unattractive. You have nice tits. You have an okay ass. You dress well, and your hair–well, the less said there, the better, but you keep it combed and washed. You are a nice, intelligent human being–BUT YOU ARE SO FUCKING INSECURE THAT IT MAKES ME SICK!
Find a guy. No, not an ONLINE guy. Find a guy and ask him out. Then you’ll prove me right.
Could you be more sarcastic?
drayton, its’ nice that you go to Syracuse. Could you try to go at least 5 posts between mentioning it. Dopers are getting hurt by you dropping names.
Now unhand your penis, put down the magazine, and work. Its’ better for your eyes.
(tmi?)
A little bit of advice, Treviathan , to help you cope with the painful fact that every waking moment is another tragic reminder that, yes, you continue to exist:
-
This may come as a shock, but your music tastes are no better than anyone else’s. In fact, some of the stuff you like sounds vaguely like randy iguana copulation, so don’t be surprised if the rest of the world doesn’t think it’s the cat’s me-fuckin-ow.
-
You have the work ethic of an inebriated glob of mayonnaise. Write that uncle-fucking paper, and stop whining about how “you’ve got great ideas, but they just don’t cohere properly.” And moreover, if you want to stop coming off as a pretentious alpaca dick, cease with the pansy-ass vocabulary.
-
Sweet Mary, Queen of Scots, the fact that one girl might actually have to study for a final instead of spending time with you does not mean that you therefore are the modern-day equivalent of Joseph Stalin. Last time you checked, you were quite lacking in the gravitational field department; the world, to your great amazement, apparently revolves around something altogether separate from yourself. Your solipsistic fantasies, while they do keep your ego so nicely engorged, are trivial and baseless. Remind yourself of this regularly.
And for God’s sake, go to bed tonight at a reasonable hour. “Worms: Armageddon” will be there in the morning.
**Treviathan ** that was the funniest thing I have read. If you sucked any more as a human being I would have horked a lung out my nose.
the line about **you have the work ethic of an enibriated glob of mayonaise ** sounds like a pissed off fortune cookie fortune
Now, as for me:
There is no evidence that the world revolves around you. Yes, your gravitational pull is much greater than it use to be, but that is because of your inability to say no to the talking refrigerator. Excerise use to be your religion but you have excommunicated yourself for the atheistic couch lifestyle. Have thee no shame?
You need to learn to bite thy tongue. Stop lamenting over everyone else being too busy to call and how they probably don’t like you because of some minor thing that you said happened back in 1907. Why don’t you just rub salt into your eyes, its far more invigorating! Just shut the hell up and *call them *. Maybe actually *inviting * people to your house would help them remember who you are. yes, this would mean actually cleaning your house and - this is a shocker - cooking for these people. Possibly doing both for the same party might be required. If they are your friends, they will over look dirt and ignore the bland food. If it is family, just delegate who brings what and then take a prozac a couple of hours before they arrive.
Remember your dog that you loved dearly years ago? Take her for a fucking walk once in a while. since the kids she has increased more in girth than those fat twin men wearing cowboy hats riding mini bikes, fer cryin out loud. she looks like a plump bratwurst with legs and fur. Anything that large should be tax deductible.
While your neighbors are indeed the world’s only living brain donors, they are very nice people. Clueless, insecure dimwits and apparently the mortgage company took pity on them and just handed them a mortgage. You are not so very far off from them and that is probably why you avoid them, because you are (THIS) close to having a Pampered Chef/partylite/whatever party. Just sell your fucking soul and get it done with. You’ll end up making nice friends with perky women named Tammy, Dawn and Wanda, who have the collective IQ’s of dog vomit.
Oh, and you need to pluck your eyebrows.
Oh, one more thing, you are still the funniest Joan outside of Cusack.
See, **Shirley ** You suck so much you *killed * this thread!