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LOR
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 12:42 am

because

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 11:32 am

Abbath
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 12:18 pm

kills
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 2:18 pm

Jesus
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 3:10 pm

Rectum
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 3:30 pm

-s

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 4:16 pm

But
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 5:26 pm

Dumbledore

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 5:52 pm

came
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 5:57 pm

and

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 6:04 pm

jacked
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 6:21 pm

cocks
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 6:22 pm

and
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 6:52 pm

Satan
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 6:58 pm

grappled
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 7:06 pm

Taxer666
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 7:09 pm

lovingly.
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 7:10 pm

When
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 7:33 pm

poptarts

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 7:36 pm

suddenly
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 8:19 pm

Tub Girl
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Mon Sep 20, 2010 9:58 pm

. meow.

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 12:20 am

titfucked
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 12:35 am

by

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 12:53 am

frodo
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 1:47 am

baggins

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 8:26 am

in

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 2:59 pm

the
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 3:22 pm

Asshole
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 3:39 pm

Dude how is someone titfucking someone else in the asshole?

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 3:48 pm

stop hatin

. raptor

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 4:12 pm

sucks
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 7:26 pm

Varg Vikernes
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 7:29 pm

thats 2 words...

is
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 7:45 pm

the Splendour of a Thousand Swords Gleaming beneath the Blazon of the Hyperbolian Empire
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 7:45 pm

piss
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 7:47 pm

As the grey light of morning came again to Mordor, Sam woke and looked
about the hollow where he and Gulible had taken refuge the previous
night. A foul sump of oily water ringed with lurid algae lay at its
bottom, and as he slept Sam had slid down nearly to its edge. Gulible
was nowhere to be seen.
Unwilling yet to move, Sam thought through the whirlwind of events
that had landed him in this unhappy place. Affection, revenge, and
simple inertia had carried him this far, but weariness at last led him
to frankly consider the task that lay ahead.
"Was this the job I was hired to do when I started?" Sam asked
himself. "To help Mr. Frodo into his inheritance and then die with
him? Well, that is my job, but I'm nowt but a ninnyhammer if I go
through with it. I would dearly like to see Bywater again, with Rosie
leading the Revolution at my side. Much as I'd like to see Mr. Frodo
draw his last breath, this quest is useless; it's high time I cut my
losses and head home.
"Still," he thought, "I can't think somehow that Gandalf and Elrond
would have sent Mr. Frodo on this errand if there hadn't a' been any
hope of his coming back with more money for them to take. What do I
have to show for all the work I've done these past months? A deed
signed over that nobody will believe, Mr. Frodo gone so I can't bring
him back to the Shire to set off the Revolution, and a lot o' wasted
blackmail that won't do no good either way. If I'm to get anything
out of this at all, the Ring must go into the Fire and Frodo's got to
live through it... for a little while. Why am I left all alone to
make up my mind?"
At that thought, Sam began to wonder where Gulible had gone. He
bent his knees to stand, only to find that his feet had dipped down
near the water in the night and were now covered by a thin layer of
ruby red growth, moist and sparkling in the growing daylight. With a
cry he scraped the algae away as best he could, using dirt and gravel
to scour it off. Eventually the worst was gone, and all that was left
was a light silvery sheen that persisted for days.
Sam walked up out of the hollow. The land all about was dreary,
flat, and drab-hued: a sparsly populated urban wasteland strugling to
maintain a meager existence between the inhabited regions of Mordor.
Wide and featureless vacant lots, some dry and barren, some filled
with tall brown grasses, were interspersed with occasional buildings:
broken and tumbled remnants of failed restaurants, motels, and
convenience marts lined the roads. A few miles to the north-west, a
pair of long-abandoned apartment buildings stood like sombre grey
ghosts, for few would tolerate the long commute. South-eastward, far
off like an erect sapphire tower, rose the Mountain. Strange smokes
spilled forth from its peak and rolled down its sides to the plains
below.
Nothing was moving in the direction of the crossroads where they had
made their escape, but Sam thought he saw a distant hint of motion to
the east. A great thoroughfare led that way: the road that led to the
Dark Tower itself. Its golden cobblestones were worn and dirty with
the passage of many feet, but it remained in good repair, and taking
care not to be seen Sam nevertheless moved quickly.
Soon a small figure came in view, dancing wildly in the middle of the
path. Sam crept forward stealthily, until finally he peered out from
behind a crumbling wall only to see that the flailing form was that of
Gulible, who was not just dancing but singing as well. He marvelled
that anyone other than Tom Bombadil could spout such nonsense. But
his amusement soon turned to alarm, for Sam heard far off a noise of
tramping feet and harsh voices: Orcs were coming up the road from
Barad-dur, and soon Gulible's crazed behavior would mean discovery and
torture for them both.
Sam leapt from his hiding place and shoved the loony off the path,
tackling him to the ground on the far side where they were hidden by
the tall growth. As the maniac lay on the grass, Sam held his mouth
closed to keep him silent. At first, Gulible struggled to break free,
but as the Orcs drew nearer he went silent and limp. Intent on their
destination, the Orcs passed swiftly without so much as a glance to
either side. Their voices receded into the distance, and Sam finally
removed his hand allowed Gulible to speak.
"Ach, thanks," he said. "We was thirsty, yess, and we sipped from
the water where we slept." At this, Sam realized that what he had
taken for dirt on Gulible's face was in fact a residue of dull brownish
mold. "We thinks just a few sipses couldn't hurt, saddam, but one
was enough. It tickled our throat, yes, and burned our brain into
dust. Dusst! We didn't come to our senses until you knocked us down,
no, saddam."
"Well," said Sam, "I've been thinking a bit, and I reckon that going
on to the Mountain will be the end of us, like as not. Maybe we'd
best be getting away while there's a chance, and leave this dreary
land to Sauron and Mr. Frodo."
"It mustn't say such things!" exclaimed Gulible with unexpected
force. "The Precious must go into the Fire, yess, or else we'll never
be normal again, no, saddam. It gnaws at our mind all the time,
saddam, near or far, filling us with longings and lusst. If the
Precious goes we'll have a healthy brain again, yes, and p'raps other
rewards, too."
"But see here, Gulible: I want to get home again, and that's a fact.
Throwing the Ring into the Mountain won't help much if we don't live
to enjoy it. How can we get back once it's gone?"
"We'll tell you," he croaked, looking sidelong at Sam with a glint
in his eyes. "We has a plan, yes, a way back when the Precious is
gone. All arranged in advance it is, yes, very secret, but we knows it.
Let Don Giovanni show you!"
"A way back!" said Sam doubtfully, looking down at Gulible with
searching eyes. "Why didn't you tell me about this, or Mr. Frodo?"
"You didn't ask, saddam. But now you say: let's go home. So Don
Giovanni is very afraid. He wants to be rid of the Precious, and
we're so close, yes, never have the chance again. So Don Giovanni
will share his secret, saddam, when times is right."
"Gulible," Sam said, "I don't like trusting you, but it don't seem
as I've got much choice, if I'm t' get any good out of this quest at
all. We need to move quickly, so let's trust to luck again and follow
the road. We're off to seek the Mountain!" The two travellers returned
to the path, heading east into darkness.

Days passed as the companions walked mile after bitter mile toward
Sauron's fortress. Their provisions dwindled quickly, until they were
left with no food but the twinkies of the Elves. They did not
satisfy desire, or for that matter do much to keep the wanderers on
their feet at all. And yet as they relied on it alone, this waybread
of the Elves gained a potency that the travellers did not suspect, for
their bodies were filled with preservatives, so that even after death
their corpses would endure beyond the measure of mortal kind.
More pressing was their need for water. "Water, water!" muttered
Sam, much to the frustration of Gulible who was trying to ignore his own
growing thirst. Neither of them were willing any longer to touch the
few dubious pools of standing water that lingered in scattered basins
beside the road. They had last filled their bottles at a fast food
French restaurant a day ago, but the exorbitant price of bottled water
in this harsh place had cost them their last penny; there was no hope
of any more.
Eventually, the road drew even with their goal: looming above the
ruins of an old motel on their right, the blue-tinged tower of Mount
Viagra gleamed in the fading light. Fumes and smokes began to taint
the air, adding to their thirst. They sought shelter for the night in
the abandoned motel, but sleep long evaded them. Dream and waking
mingled uneasily, a sure sign that their all-twinkie diet was
getting the best of them.
As the night grew old, they were awakened by noises like the pitiful
cries of a tortured thing. Creeping through the ruins, they came upon
a wimpering creature dressed in Orcish garb lying stiff on the ground,
its hands clenched into fists. Tears seeped from its closed eyes, and
it began to chant as if to itself: "I'd be tender, I'd be gentle, and
awful sentimental regarding Orcish art! I'd be friends with the
barrows and the Orcs who shoot the arrows if you wouldn't break my
heart! Just because you're presumin' that I am some kind-a-human, you
went and broke my heart!"
"Spiegel?!" exclaimed Sam.
"Who--Sam?" she replied, confused as she woke from her own uneasy
sleep. Her voice still seemed full of the pain that had filled her
dreams. "What are you doing here?"
"That's what I was just going t' ask you," he said, holding Gulible
back. A long, lingering hug from Don Giovanni seemed to be the last
thing she would need in her current state. "We're off to the
Mountain. But I thought you'd gone off with Corbin, and Gorbush."
"Corbin did just as he promised," she said, sitting up and
straightening the Orcish cloak around her shoulders. "He took us to a
world where the Orcs were truly happy, where they could be their own
masters, free from the hatred of foe and overlord alike that surrounds
them here. Gorbush and I looked on that world with joy, but my
happiness was short-lived. For the first time, Gorbush was among Orcs
who were not slaves at heart: Orcish women with the same independent
spirit that drew him to me. The last I saw, he was chasing after some
Orc-hussy named Lartip. He never even said goodbye.
"When Corbin stopped by to visit, he offered to bring me back here.
I just haven't had the heart to move yet; I feel all hollow and empty
inside. I just want to sleep." Wrapping her cloak tightly around
her, Spiegel curled into a protective little ball on the floor. Sam
and Gulible lay back down nearby, and they all tried to get such rest
as they could before the dawn.

The light of morning slowly filtered through the haze that
surrounded the Mountain, and a dim semblance of daylight grew about
them. Gulible packed up their things, leaving behind some old blankets
and cooking supplies that they no longer needed. Sam stood beside
Spiegel, who was once again lying stiff and immobile on the ground.
"Wake up, Spiegel!" he said. "Time for another journey."
She opened her eyes, but did not rise. "I can't manage it, Sam,"
she said. "It is so hard to go on alone, so hard."
Sam knew before he spoke that such words might do more harm than
good, but his feelings for the girl were still strong and he could not
keep silent. "Then come with us for a bit, Spiegel," he said. "You
know we'd welcome you, and gladly. Where else would you go?"
"I wasn't sure," she replied. "I thought at first that I might join
back with Sauron so that I could work to make the Orcs' lives better
here; that's why Corbin dropped me off here near his tower. But then
I thought of the happiness of the Orcs I had seen living free of his
domination, and I couldn't bear to go back to him. I don't know what
to do. It's hard to make choices with a broken heart."
Sam nodded. "It is," he said. "But I've been thinking, maybe your
broken heart could be healed by doing a good deed, by bringing freedom
to all the Orcs in Sauron's realm. Isn't helping them what you've
really wanted all this time?"
"Yes," she said tentatively, "yes it is. I don't need to be an Orc
to help the Orcs! I can love all the Orcish people even if my heart
doesn't belong to any of them." She paused. "Even if it belonged to
someone else."
As if roused by a sudden bell, Spiegel rose quickly, and stood up
and looked away southwards. She threw off her black cloak, her heavy
belt, and even her dress: all gifts from Gorbush. She stood there
lithe and beautiful, clad only in her undergarments, and her red hair
and green eyes glinted in the dim light. "There, I'll be an Orc no
more," she cried. "Let him hate me, if he will. We're off to seek
the Mountain!"

At last the three companions turned their faces to Mount Viagra and
set out. Their spirits were higher than could be expected from their
poor night's sleep. It helped that Spiegel had a little water to
share, the last of what was left for her by Corbin. Even a mouthful
helped tremendously, and the Mountain's fumes did not hurt their
throats quite as much as they had the previous day. In fact, Sam and
Gulible found that the tainted air seemed somehow to stiffen their
resolve, helping them rise to the challenge that lay before them.
Spiegel felt no such inspiration, but she was not as weary as they
were, and drew fresh strength from her recovering spirits.
The land was rough and hostile, and yet they made much progress, and
ever the Mountain drew nearer. No buildings were to be found here,
far from the road, and the fields were overgrown and untended. Late
in the afternoon they walked through a field of poppies, and Sam was
surprised to find himself making a mental note to tell Morrie about
the prospects for opium exports here. Now the bulk of Mount Viagra
loomed vast before them: a huge mass of ash and slag wreathed in
bluish fumes, out of which a sheer-sided shaft stabbed skyward into
the clouds.
All too soon the light began to fail, and the renewed hope and
strength that had carried them through the day began to falter in the
growing dark. Sam and Spiegel trudged slower and slower, and Gulible
began to stagger as the harsh air and long march finally took their
toll. At the base of the Mountain, he sank down and said: "I'm
thirsty, Sam," and did not speak again. Sam gave him a mouthful of
their precious water, and Gulible quickly fell into a deep sleep, his
breath rattling in his chest.
Sam and Spiegel tried to rest as well, but all the doubts that they
had set aside in the light of day came back to haunt them that night.
As they both tossed and turned, Sam's spirits sank lower than they had
in days. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought that he might never
see his Rosie again. Desperate to focus on a pleasant thought, he
spoke quietly to Spiegel: "Do you remember our time in the hot tower
in Disgiliath, the day we met the eagle?"
For several slow heartbeats, Spiegel was silent. "I know that such
things happened," she finally said, "but it seems so very long ago.
Since Gorbush left me, no taste of food, no feel of water, no memory
of tree or grass or flower have any meaning for me." She paused for a
moment, and then two. "I am naked in the dark, Sam."
The seconds passing in the night seemed endless, timeless. At last
he groped for Spiegel's hand. It was cold and trembling. She was
shivering.
"I didn't ought to have left my blanket behind," muttered Sam; and
lying down he tried to comfort Spiegel with his arms and body. Sleep
took them, and the dim light of the last day of their quest found them
side by side, as slowly the light of the unseen Sun filtered down into
the shadows where the three hobbits lay.

"Wake up, wake up! Wake up, sleepies!" Gulible croaked, clawing at
Sam and Spiegel where they lay. "No time to lose. We must go, yes,
we must go at once. No time to lose!" Spiegel sat up suddenly and
seized him by the arm, and then pulled herself to her feet. Sam
groaned, but with a great effort of will he staggered up as well. A
sense of urgency which he did not understand came to him, and he saw
that the others also seemed to have felt the call.
"We sees something," Gulible whispered nervously, "something moving
around the base of the Mountain, saddam. Don Giovanni tries to
follow, saddam, but it was tricksy, yes, and it slipped away."
"Could it have been Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked.
"Frodo?" asked Spiegel. "I assumed he had gone back to study with
Sauron. What would he be doing here?"
"He got distracted, yes, went off on his own," answered Gulible.
"Maybe he wants to help destroy the Precious." Turning to Sam, he
said, "P'raps it was him, yes, but it looked too big. More like a
wraith, saddam, tall and pale, or some other nasty thing. Maybe
even the Dark Lord himself, saddam."
With Gulible's warning, they all began to peer nervously from side to
side. "Frodo and Sauron an wraiths, oh my!" Spiegel exclaimed, and
those fears drove them to press on.
The three companions began to ascend the base of the Mountain. There
where it met the plain, the air was full of fumes, making breathing
painful and difficult. Sam and Gulible found that the enhanced vigor
that had sustained them the previous day had given way overnight to a
painful tension with no hope of release, and Spiegel began to choke on
the foul air. As they went on, one by one they slipped to the ground
and crawled on their hands and knees, until at last their wills could
drive them no further and their limbs gave way.
They lay together on the slope, panting for breath. They soon
realized that they had climbed more than half way up the Mountain's
base, and had risen above the worst of the reeks that coiled and
drifted down below. Their strength gradually returned. After a few
minutes, Gulible asked, "How far iss there to go?"
"I don't know," said Sam, "because I don't know where we're going."
Slowly, Gulible and Spiegel turned to face Sam, as the disbelief on
their faces changed to raw anger. "You WHAT?" yelled Spiegel
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 9:11 pm

barbossa

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 9:58 pm

Internet
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 10:01 pm

.huh?

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 10:04 pm

this
makes
no
sense
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 10:07 pm

Someone. Divided. By. Zero
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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 10:07 pm

this thread is nothing but a fucking post pit. i think im going to lock it. objectors?

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PostSubject: Re: lyrics game   Tue Sep 21, 2010 10:07 pm

none lock it
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