Bunny's tits revealed!

1. For some reason I habitually say please and thank you. Even on the Internet.

2. It's precisely because you don't know me that you should do about it. Think about it. I'm not entirely sure how that works, but I'm pretty sure it does, and once you think about it you'll agree, if you know what's good for you.

I'm not going to make the mistake of thinking you're a pussy. I'm going to make the definitive statement of fact that you are, in fact, a pussy. Also, a girl may like a guy who can express emotions, but said guy will be friendless after said display of said emotions. What women actually want is convenient lies. They don't want the truth, they want someone they can show off to their friends as the 'perfect' guy. Even though he's just like all the rest underneath, he's managed to lie to her.

I don't like poetry, but yours sounded pretty gay even without the poor construction. Unless you were going for free form, in which case that should have been clearer. I don't like poetry because it features metaphors and shit I can't understand because I'm not a pretentious fag who thinks he's in touch with his emotions.

Oh Blinky, how the mighty have fallen.

 

Ah, yes... It's the combination of your eloquence plus your flawless logic that's going to make me show you my precious ones.

You don't want to threaten me. You might end up in my MSN.

 

So glad you see it my way. Where are those pics then?

That's not a threat. It's just me saying that if you want good things to happen to you, then you show your tits. If you don't then certainly other things will happen, and they may not be as good.

 

The only good poetry is music. All other poetry sucks, except free-verse, which really sucks.

 

I think that's a threat only I can get away with making, sorry sweety. So... have we had a thread about the breasts of every highly-active female member? I think we have, (or at least parts of threads)... anyone confirm/deny?

 

Evidently I missed this post before. A chick who writes about death? You and Blinky sound made for each other - everyone knows Goths are emo faggots who wear black and are obsessed with the 'dark' side of life as if they've got some special unique insight. Really it's just ignorant losers convincing themselves no one else has ever or could ever feel this way before, and that they've been granted arcane knowledge about life after death which they are now the sole guardians of, but if you're smart enough they'll leave clues for you in terrible, overwritten poetry.

Emo faggots can also wear black without being goth, but then there's that extra step that you take to become a goth that make you just that much more pathetic, because then you've made being an emo fag your lifestyle, not part of your life.

I guess there must have been some hidden death meanings in that poetry then for you to like it. I now pronounce you husband and wife, or alternatively, pretentious dipshit and emo backdoor bandit.

 

I've found that the only difference between the two fucked-up shithead stereotypes is that Gothic Fags listen to Heavy Metal, and Marilyn Manson, and consider themselves unique and anti-socitial, where as Emo Fags listen to indie music, and while more. Both, however, buy $70 jeans from Hot Topic, which is coincidentally owned by the same corporation that owns Abercrombie, and they also are elitist-fags, and form little sects within their "anti-society" society, and do the same thing that the football players, and all the Abercrombie Fags do, except the Abercrombie Fags'ren't anti-societial, they're pro-society, and have their own sects within their society. They are mirror-fucking images of each other.*

*This statement is made from my observations on the shapes and varities of the <i>American Fag Societies</i>. It may or may not apply to Australian, and European, or other variances.

 

I never said I was getting in touch with MY emotions, I said I was getting in touch with THEIR emotions.

 

More emo whining...

 

I fight the urge to kill you.

 

Of course you do, it's not emo to kill someone other than yourelf.

 

...Sweden isn't that big, I think I can find your green hide and flay you before Halloween.

 

Yeah, I'd like to see you try!!

*runs to find a safe hiding place*

 

What should I write about? Nature? That would make me a Romantic, and that's dull. Science and religion? Gothics have a puny logic. Why, I think your narrow little mind is too full of stereotyped crap and maybe I should write about love? Bo-ring. Besides, I don't write poetry, I write narrative. I don't set cats on fire or get high, I just happen to kill people in my stories by accident, so yes, I must have an obsession with death; I also have one with sex, but that's none of your business.

Right now the only black thing I'm wearing is my underwear. Red tank top, blue baggy trousers, light blue Adidas. How's that for your shitty Goth stereotype? Oh, wait, you are right, I must be an undercover Goth.

Which, I guess, is the case with you.

Oh, why don't you try to use your potential intellectual abilities for reading and writing someday? That would be good exercise for your seemingly atrophied mind. Even your profanity is unimaginative.

[Edit]

You could be right, but there are some exceptions.

 

Anyone seen Sigurd lately?

 

Is green a too bright colour? Doesn't it represent your mood enough? Are you afraid some of your emo friends will find out that you read stuff at forums where there are green people?

Think of it this way: me being green just makes you look more special with your all black clothes. Being special is what emo is about, right?

Tell the other kids that when they see you visiting HoL next time.

 

I'm wearing blue jeans, sneakers, and a pull over. I'm actually dressed more like Rocky Balboa in training right now.

For all of your benefits, emo is when you're sad. That poem isn't sad. At all. I'll break it up for you:

The first stanza basically says, what can I say to stop the fears we have about life that make us cry. All my damned allusions: warring fears, which is quite directly the warring emotions about life, is everything going to be ok, whatever. Saline spears is just a nice way of saying tears. They're salty. They're spears because crying too much is dangerous. Wanderlust way, life has many roads, we tend to wander on them.

Am I getting emo yet?

The second says that if I spent my whole fucking life I could never describe love (Veronan complex, Romeo and Juliet, they were emo, love in itself isn't). Love never lapses to perplex, it's very fucking confusing, but it still stops you from crying, because it makes you feel good.

Stanza 3 reads that I wish that I could somehow gain the ability to describe that "violently eloquent reason," which is flowery speak for love. Love has it's own rationale. Ever wonder why two people end up together? Love understands it, and love's reasoning is quite dynamic but nonetheless flawless. The second half of it says that love itself guarantees that, despite what the current situation of your life is, people who truly love with receive it in return from someone. The archers are an allusion to Cupid.

The last stanza is basically saying, go away now, wherever you wan to, and know that we're never going to figure out the love, the peculiar affections, that dwells in our hearts.

It isn't emo. I don't write alot of depressing shit. Overly gushy, maybe. But there it is, for Jar who doesn't like allusions, and anyone else who didn't know what the fuck I was talking about. Like mathboy, who I can almost guarantee took a cursory glance, only enough to see it was poetry, and assumed I was writing the same sort of shit all his pedantic little bastard friends write.

Sorry to break your heart math, need a razor?

 

YES!

Both sad and misunderstood. Surely not emo.

The rest of the poem was ok, a bit faggoty, but ok for an gay emo polar bear trying to make his true self not show.

About the razor: no I already have one, too shave myself with, maybe you should use your for that too. It would make you less emo AND less polar bear and if you leave a nice moustache you could get even faggotier (yes it's possible).

 

I'm actually clean shaven. I've been doing it for quite a bit longer than you young one.

Perhaps in your stupidity you failed to realize, you've used the word suicide four times in this thread you little bitch, I haven't used it until now. Who's obsessing over killing themselves?

Look, I'm sorry I'm so good. I'm sorry you're a pathetic little failed abortion. And I'm sorry you can't get at me except to call me a polar bear and say I'm emo when I write a poem, pretty much regardless of it's content. In short, I'm sorry you're a miserable waste of existance. Not my fault, sucks to be you.

This doesn't accomplish anything, because you're bad at insulting people. You get too excited over little shit, and you don't even hide cloud your misquotes with any sort of post-formative intelligence. Perhaps that's because you're still only some pimple-faced viking whoreson, still trying to adapt to to life with his testicles not wedged up by his spleen.

You should practice more, which is why I won't tear you apart right now. You need all the help you can get at this sort of thing. So just keep flinging your pseudo-insults. Hell, you might even make me contemplate eventually becoming upset.

 

Yes I'm bad at flaming, but at least I'm flaming the parts of you I know (your like of polar bears and your emo side displayed by the poem) instead of using standard Jarinor insults.

My use of suicide was describing your, and your sad friends dressed in black's, activities. Your use of crying is describing a poem YOU wrote.