~KitchenManager
Fri, May 22, 1998 (13:10)
seed
When you feel one coming on, dash in here and jot it down!
~KitchenManager
Fri, May 22, 1998 (13:26)
#1
When I was a little boy, I had but little wit,
'Tis a long time ago, and I have no more yet;
Nor ever ever shall, until that I die,
For the longer I live the more fool am I.
Anonymous
~mikeg
Sat, May 23, 1998 (05:43)
#2
Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.
Hebrews 11 verse 1
~stacey
Sun, May 24, 1998 (22:31)
#3
I have ABSOLUTELY no arguement with that definition!
*smile*
(been busy Mike? miss your long banters!)
~autumn
Mon, May 25, 1998 (21:12)
#4
Sister Disco is keeping him busy!
~stacey
Tue, May 26, 1998 (09:15)
#5
Woo WOO!
~riette
Wed, May 27, 1998 (08:16)
#6
As long as it isn't Sister Bingo, it's cool by me.
~KitchenManager
Thu, May 28, 1998 (00:25)
#7
The Ten Commandments (In Ebonics)
1. I be God. Don' be dissing me.
2. Don' be makin hood ornaments outa me or nothin in my crib.
3. Don' be callin me for no reason - homey don' play that.
4. Y'all betta be in church on Sundee.
5. Don' dis ya mama ... an if ya know who ya daddy is, don' dis him
neither.
6. Don' ice ya bros.
7. Stick to ya own woman.
8. Don' be liftin no goods.
9. Don' be frontin like you all that an no snitchin on ya homies.
10. Don' be eyein' ya homie's crib, ride, or nothin.
~riette
Thu, May 28, 1998 (01:59)
#8
exquisite!
~KitchenManager
Thu, May 28, 1998 (17:48)
#9
(Found on a bathroom wall somewhere in the U.S.A.)
You've taken over my mind. You've raped my thoughts with
your image viruses then sold me fake cures for your own
disease. Your words and pictures scream orders at me like
angry prison wardens. When I cover my ears, your voices echo
in my head. I hate you. When I see your billboards, your talk
shows, your rock concerts and your factories, when I see the
work of your twisted libidos, I want to kill you. I want to set
fires, plant bombs, derail trains. I want to smash your buildings
and tear at your bodies until the skin of my hands is worn to
the bone. I am filled with a rage that burns my eyes.
I don't want to feel this way. You have done this to me. These
feelings are the fruits of your multi-billion dollar sowing. And I
am not alone. There are others like me out here. Every suicide,
every madman, every man and woman who gets a gun and just
starts shooting -- these are your illegitimate children. They
don't all know what they are doing. All they know is hate for
the invisible walls which you have raised around them, hate for
the narrow path you have tried to make them walk. And the
innocent pay in blood for your negligence.
Remember this: My mind is big. The more you try to push me
down and make me small, the greater the pressure inside me
becomes. The greater the pressure, the greater the chance of an
explosion. There was once a time when I felt love, but now I
feel only hate and anger, and fear at what I might do. And you
can tell me to "BE HAPPY," but I know that you really mean
"BE QUIET".
Believe me, I want to be happy. You stand in my way.