How to stock a 300 stick 'dor

[Robusto]

EN FRANCAIS
(CASSETTE)

Hello. I'm called MyName. I'm sixteen. I live in AnyTownUK. AnyTownUK is boring. I play guitar. I like football. My uniform is boring. I have a sister. My sister is boring. I went to the cinema on Saturday. I ate pizza and drank Coke. I do not smoke. It stinks. It is boring. I prefer Drama. Maths is boring. My parents are boring. I go to the pub with my friends. My bedroom is untidy. I wash up. I like Kings of Leon. Kings of Leon are cool. I like my French teacher, Miss Smith. Miss Smith is funny. Miss Smith is cool. It is sunny. I will go to Italy by bike. I will eat pizza. I will drink Coca Cola with my friends. My friends are funny. I don't like my parents. I don't like Pussycat Dolls. It is half past ten. I will be a doctor. Goodbye.

Repeat.

[cj121]

Miss Smith, my French teacher was not cool lil Phil. When I was twelve she called me a supercilious little boy. I had to look it up in the dictionary and internalised it for ever more. Conversely, Miss Smith invited me to her wedding.

In essence, you should only repeat X 300 or it will overspill.

[Robusto]

166/500.

[cj121]

You are C H A M E L E O N

[cj121]

166/500.

300/500=200 elsewhere

[Robusto]

Something to do on half term holiday next week.

[cj121]

You're going to fill your
humi?

[rokkitsci]

Having finally successfully balanced my meds, I no longer need solace from ladies of the night regarding my unusual affinity for llamas. Needless to say, I still miss my furry friends. Especially Velma. She was rather cute, actually.

I was recently honored for my long-standing support of the local Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow Shelter for Homeless NFL Tailbacks with an impeccably catered sit down lutefisk dinner at which the guest speaker was none other than Billy Joe Bob "Bubba" Swarczynski, the 2003 International Cockroach Stomping Gold Medal Winner. The highlight of the evening was when Sister Mary Magritte, feeling a little frisky after her third cup of punch, knocked out a kick-ass version of Bohemian Rhapsody on her accordion. Needless to say, everyone had a wonderful time and really enjoyed the zircon-encrusted, navel lint pickers I gave out as a door prize.

After the recent break up with my girlfriend of almost three-and-a-half weeks, I was feeling rather despondent until I read an ad in the latest issue of my subscription to Alfalfa Sprout Sculptures Weekly, describing a rare opportunity to join the growing number of people who weave pork loins into their hair. I had a little difficulty filling out the 23-page application, particularly with the details of all of my assets, since I didn't have the information regarding all the account numbers and passwords easily at hand. However, I managed to finally provide all the requested information and sent it in, along with my cashier's check for $4,625.11, and I anticipate receiving my Sooper Sekrit Majik Decoder Ring within 4-6 weeks. Needless to say, I am very excited!

Last year's operation to remove an upright piano from my pituitary gland left me with a peculiar side-effect which did not allow me to correctly enunciate the word "coffee." Just last week, I went out for breakfast and the waitress asked me what I'd like to drink with my starfish-on-toast, and instead of replying with 'coffee' the only thing that would come out of my mouth was "I hope you die of a lingering, festering disease which causes your private parts to become a pustulous tumor." Needless to say, I am no longer welcome at that restaurant.

But despite the disappointment of not being selected for the job I applied for as VP in charge of Spurious Operations for Haliburton's Iraq Division, I manage to stay quite busy updating my list of people who have visible nose hair. Needless to say, I can always parlay franchise options on my list to unsuspecting Bulgarians who limp.

So, although I only eat pre-masticated armadillo giblets, you can plainly see that I am quite happy and fulfilled in my role as consigliere to the Council of Aging Gnome Contortionists. Needless to say, the caption under the place in my High School Yearbook where my picture was supposed to be read "Deliberately Omitted."