The 3-Word-Story.

Discussion in 'Random Chat' started by Wasabi GOD, May 1, 2015.

  1. Wasabi GOD

    Wasabi GOD Praise Brad Delson, our Lord and Savior. LPA Addict

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only
     
  2. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger
     
  3. Wasabi GOD

    Wasabi GOD Praise Brad Delson, our Lord and Savior. LPA Addict

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one
     
  4. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session
     
  5. Wasabi GOD

    Wasabi GOD Praise Brad Delson, our Lord and Savior. LPA Addict

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for
     
  6. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday
     
  7. Gibs

    Gibs The Prog Nerd Über Member

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a
     
  8. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad
     
  9. Wasabi GOD

    Wasabi GOD Praise Brad Delson, our Lord and Savior. LPA Addict

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar
     
  10. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god
     
  11. Gibs

    Gibs The Prog Nerd Über Member

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great
     
  12. Wasabi GOD

    Wasabi GOD Praise Brad Delson, our Lord and Savior. LPA Addict

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great band called Linkin
     
  13. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great band called Linkin Park, which
     
  14. Gibs

    Gibs The Prog Nerd Über Member

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great band called Linkin Park, which the fabric of
     
  15. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great band called Linkin Park, which the fabric of time bent to
     
  16. ScatterMatter

    ScatterMatter Well-Known Member

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great band called Linkin Park, which the fabric of time bent to. Extra medium ancient
     
  17. Gibs

    Gibs The Prog Nerd Über Member

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great band called Linkin Park, which the fabric of time bent to. Extra medium ancient coffee cups were
     
  18. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great band called Linkin Park, which the fabric of time bent to. Extra medium ancient coffee cups were spilled on everyone's
     
  19. Gibs

    Gibs The Prog Nerd Über Member

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great bandcalled Linkin Park, which the fabric of time bent to. Extramedium ancient coffee cups were spilled on everyone's lap and they
     
  20. Christøffer

    Christøffer The Cure for Mr. Hahn's Itch LPA Contributor

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    Today we learned that our ketchup and our mustard expired. Thirteen ducks, following ambiguous orders to kill the damn condiment creators, were ready to strike at the metaphorical nape of Heinz with bazookas whilst dancing on vemonous giant elephants that were doing nothing but crying. The reason for their unsightly bawling was the dead were in throes. An ill-advised diet change to carnivore demanded condiments to Dave's feet at the cusp of noon. “Quack,” barked Robert the post-punk fella that was leading the pack, and it happens, Ben Roethlisburger lunged at Robert's little cat that was licking its own huge, smelly balls. Concurrently, the company chanted, their elephants precariously perched upon war unicycles, spooked by the sight. “Steel curtain, assemble!” But it didn't. Robert’s elephant trumpeted its last trumpet during the only one roger roger. After that one very special session of waiing for Michele's latest birthday, he took a picture of Brad, the modern guitar and cable god of the great bandcalled Linkin Park, which the fabric of time bent to. Extramedium ancient coffee cups were spilled on everyone's lap and they screamed MUSTARD PLEASE
     

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