Useless thread, 6000 one-liners: You can own and carry but?

[CPT Nervous]

Is until never was where not have ever once while not because?

 

[CPT Nervous]

"I think not!" said the priest. He who shalt not until he is not becoming, is an embarrassment to all of his children, who will become unto me at the time of whence he chose it to be.

 

[CPT Nervous]

114, which is also, too, as well, which it is, but is not that which it isn't, if that makes any sense.

 

[CPT Nervous]

Why do we cannot see the light which is light that what is not light, but dark? Does sound make a noise when it falls upon deafness, or light cast shadows upon the blind? Who decides who is one, who has won, upon winning, does victory rear its head into loss?

 

[CPT Nervous]

And that brings us to here, to hear, the ramblings of a lone rambler.

 

[CPT Nervous]

That doth thou shalt covet thine covets. Which is it, fact or fantasy? Swimming through an ocean of empty dreams and shallow minds, drowning in nothingness, swimming to the shore of a desert. Hath thou findeth mine covets? Go get them, I need them back.

 

[CPT Nervous]

Seriously guys, I'm the only one who understands what which is that than other the same day who stole my TV remote.

 

[CPT Nervous]

It's sad, really.

 

[CPT Nervous]

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.

 

[CPT Nervous]

I'm but 19 away from Stocks.

I'm sure I'll quickly lose ground.

 

[CPT Nervous]

Is it a good thing I have 122 posts ITT? Probably not...

 

[CPT Nervous]

Why am I trying to win?

 

[CPT Nervous]

What to do, what to do?

 

[CPT Nervous]

Kawtech, you're about to be dethroned.

 

[CPT Nervous]

One hundred twenty six posts.

 

[CPT Nervous]

Ein hundert sieben und zwanzig.

 

[CPT Nervous]

Centum decim octum.

 

[CPT Nervous]

I only know three languages.

 

[CPT Nervous]

Well, four...

 

[CPT Nervous]

English...