psychedelic pajamas?

yeah basicly if u had fun at psychoactive you'll have double the fun at soma

same promoters !

ableton live 5.2
imac g5
oxygen 8
and a shit load of plugins.

oh and peak 4

je suis le tired.


my comments about the party on [ psyfreaks.ca ]

i take a dump for jesus

i love you guys

no girls are like [ rave.ca ]

they are full of bullshit but we can't resist em

so if i cut noah's penis off ...it's like if i cut the penis of [ rave.ca ] off ?

like boom.

hehe...i was actually watching that one today.

i need a life.

je pense qui'l veux dire une nouvelle salle pour phonolite car phonolite utilise beacoup la meme kick ass salle.

i like being high.

this is fun cuz i guess you guys don't see that i just like to fuck around on this site alot and say FUCKING STUPID SHIT...

i guess you guys take it seriously.


honestly id fuck any chick under 220!

i come here to say the stupid shit thats in my head that i can't say in public

thank you.

awwwww yeah

fuck animsals.


i kid.

fat chicks r nasty

A man had just been laid off from work. He was standing on the railing of a high bridge getting ready to jump off, when he happened to look down and see a little man with no arms dancing all around on the river bank below.

He thought to himself, "Life isn't so bad after all," and got off the railing. He then walked down to the river bank to thank the little man for saving his life. "Thank you," he said. "I was going to jump off that bridge and kill myself, but when I saw you dancing even though you have no arms, I changed my mind."

"Dancing? I'm not dancing!" the armless man replied bitterly... "My as$hole itches, and I can't scratch it!"

My Girl 2

geek fest

href="http://www.phatpimpclothing.com/pimpmyspace_codes.html">Get Pimped

yeah im the freaking heart of [ rave.ca ]

Ja, wenn Leute reden die Sprache die sie wollen auch sie nicht themselfs deutlich nicht ausdrücken können

just provide the juice

fat chicks r hungry...

has to do with god

fuck a few fat chicks ?

I have a portable woman plunger

8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter

Copyright 1998 W. Bruce Cameron
Please do not remove the copyright from this essay

When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.

Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night.

"So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?"

As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.

Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.

Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.

Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."

Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.

Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places lacking parents, policemen, or nuns. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her chin. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.

My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too--there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate—ink washes off—and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.

One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged.

Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?

i just farted sitting down in a position where the air of my fart would hit my nut sack

so my nutsack just got pushed up in the air

really quick

i don't think he means trust bro.

there is trust of course :P...

but imagine coming home and someones using your gear...:S..if you share a studio it means youre all on the same sound system right ?

id freak.

im frank whore the fuck are you ?

lizzy lizzy lizzy...



:(

I like to fuck in the morning right when i open my eyes.

:)

boner time

fucking hilarious,fucking gross,fucking awesome.


anyone got a torrent ?

thx.

a clitoris can be that big

Eate shit or...

et s'evapore dans l'air!

J'ai hate!

no shit :)

when she says....ohh that was amazing