Captain Yesterday, A Team wrote:

Woran wrote:

MrT is home!

Be sure to drape him in gold chains and find his favorite welding torch, an ample supply of firearms, and a nondescript van he can trick out.

Make sure you have several fools available for him to pity.

And hide his medications in a glass of warm milk.

It doesn't matter if you have standards if no one else working with you has the same standards.

When you see something isn't right when you're building something don't f%&@ing ignore it and hope it will fix itself.

Stop. Figure out what's wrong. Fix it. And then you can proceed.

You've just disqualified yourself from careers as a pointy-haired corporate board member or as a pointy-headed politician.

Freehold DM wrote:

Cover up that pod.

I'll never cover up my pod person.

{nods approvingly, gets spewed on}

A burrough of shobhads

A ________ of calikangs

A herbert of sandworms (no, not that herbert)

A ______ of vishkanyas

Rawr! wrote:

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Is that SOS? Were you abducted by aliens who are now forcing you to write for them and you needed to send a message they won't understand?

The probings will continue until the deadlines are met. {snaps latex glove}

Antropomorphic items, beastly users, sentimental items, dead users...

Dogs Horses and cats goblins living together... mass hysteria!

It's 106 miles to Chicago the Death Star, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark... and we're wearing sunglasses.

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin' home, Dad
I don't know when, but we'll get together then.
You know we'll have a good time then.

You should rant about brown M&Ms and orange frosted cupcakes.

My Little Marscapones: Tiramisù Is Magic is but propaganda to lull us into a false sense of security before the alien blancmanges invade.

I don't think it'd matter, because after the fight, Busey would put some Hank Williams and Willie Nelson on the jukebox. Skeletor would order another round of tequila and wings from that bar wench, E. Lyn, and start shuffling the deck. Then they'd be back to being best buds and wondering who has the better butt, She-Ra or the Sorceress.

Keith Richard's father's brother's nephew's cousin's former roommate.

Has this turned into a ballroom blitz?

Hulk sick of purple pants. How about nice pastel color in linen? Hulk think Crockett and Tubbs looked cool.

Matt is banned for still not taking down his outside Christmas lights. It's a wonder you haven't been overrun by mothmen by now.

Leafar the Lost, do you have an army of Sleestak and enslaved Pakuni at your command? Did you ever let the Marshalls go home?

Mauling and blood rivers? I come from... France... and I've never heard of these festivities? How does one participate?

{looks up from chewing on plastic waterbowl} Mebs! What is wrong with France, Mr. Curly-Furred Quadruped?

Hulk SMUSH! Seriously, that fireman is tall, tanned, and looked Italian, so Hulk woulda smushed that, yes.

Jess is not a shark.

MEBS! Hey Fonzie, park your motorcycle and help me take down this ramp.

{beams down quietly} Mebs! The transmat materialized me off-course again. Ooo, a snack- {eats a couple squeaky toys}