u talking to much
Been wondering about FDD and KMK
- Thread starter mysunnyboy
- Start date
Urca
Well-Known Member
oh my god come on tell us
srh88
Well-Known Member
wheres the chick supposed to sit durin bukakke
kinetic
Well-Known Member
Backpage dot com lol
RainbowBrite86
Well-Known Member
As long as he's OK i'm content. He's like the kid next door to me. The one you don't really like but you tolerate because you feel bad for him because he's always embarrassing himself...like...a hairy white Steve Urkel....
im glad i dont grow with u
cuz then everyone would know
srh88
Well-Known Member
i am going to say im surprised he never came back here yet.. must still be recovering from his mixed drinks thread hangover
srh88
Well-Known Member
nah noone will know it... im tryin to draw him out, i think hes using a new account
RainbowBrite86
Well-Known Member
It's not a pony, but it satifies my need for bright and colorful and the guys' need for ass.| looking for a relationship. | | Education | Some college |
First Date I am so rich. Goodness, gracious. My, my, my. I am so, very, very wealthy. How many dollars do I have? That's a question only my team of ten fat accountants can answer, because they have golden calculators which I bought for them with my money. And what is on those golden calculators? Numbers. And those numbers equal the dollars in my bank accounts, which are huge.
I have many vehicles which I use to travel across the world and to many exotic destinations where most people cannot go, because they are so poor. They have very little in dollars, but I, myself, I have very many dollars. Also, I am sexy for a man. I like to think that if I was a woman, I would be a playboy model. But since I am a man I am like the opposite of all that, the man version.
In my vehicles I have stored many bottles of rare, delicious wines. These wines are hundreds of years old and covered in dust and cobwebs, which means that they are the most delicious kind, and that they were grown from grapes which were so succulent and juicy that the poor grape-pickers of France wanted to eat them right then and there. But they were whipped, by my shift-leader vintner, who makes sure that the best grapes in my vineyard go only into the wine. That's right, my great grandfather, who was also rich, owned the vineyard where this wine was made. And it's really strong too, it can get you wasted quickly.
I am a big time gamer in the real estate market. I speculate and consolidate my wins and losses into pure profit, keeping my blue chips in the black, playing the lady stock market, teasing and tempting her, always with my eyes on the wall street journals and calling my broker on my diamond plated iphone, which I have the most expensive plan of. I call Steve Jobs on it, and when he answers, I'm like, "Who are you? I don't know who you are because I am so rich and cool, and only nerds know who you are."
Then I hang up on him and laugh, lighting a big fat stogie with $300 dollars cash, which I just happened to have in my pocket because it's chump change to me.
But I have a tender side. Sometimes, I see a hobo. And when I see the hobo, I think to myself, "This man is poor. His monetary value is low, and my monetary value is high, and it's a shame that he is himself. What can I do?"
I ask the hobo if he would rather have booze or money to buy booze. If he says he wants the money, I don't give it to him because I know he'll buy booze with it. But if he says he wants the booze, I give him the money because I value honesty, even among lying hobos.
You may be asking yourself at this point, why is this rich man posting on POF when he can have any woman he wants at any time he wants her, just by showing her how much money he has in his shoe? The answer is that I want to date someone who doesn't know that I am rich. I want to be anonymous. Only when we have fallen in love will I reveal to you that I am rich. That is why we must meet thr
I have many vehicles which I use to travel across the world and to many exotic destinations where most people cannot go, because they are so poor. They have very little in dollars, but I, myself, I have very many dollars. Also, I am sexy for a man. I like to think that if I was a woman, I would be a playboy model. But since I am a man I am like the opposite of all that, the man version.
In my vehicles I have stored many bottles of rare, delicious wines. These wines are hundreds of years old and covered in dust and cobwebs, which means that they are the most delicious kind, and that they were grown from grapes which were so succulent and juicy that the poor grape-pickers of France wanted to eat them right then and there. But they were whipped, by my shift-leader vintner, who makes sure that the best grapes in my vineyard go only into the wine. That's right, my great grandfather, who was also rich, owned the vineyard where this wine was made. And it's really strong too, it can get you wasted quickly.
I am a big time gamer in the real estate market. I speculate and consolidate my wins and losses into pure profit, keeping my blue chips in the black, playing the lady stock market, teasing and tempting her, always with my eyes on the wall street journals and calling my broker on my diamond plated iphone, which I have the most expensive plan of. I call Steve Jobs on it, and when he answers, I'm like, "Who are you? I don't know who you are because I am so rich and cool, and only nerds know who you are."
Then I hang up on him and laugh, lighting a big fat stogie with $300 dollars cash, which I just happened to have in my pocket because it's chump change to me.
But I have a tender side. Sometimes, I see a hobo. And when I see the hobo, I think to myself, "This man is poor. His monetary value is low, and my monetary value is high, and it's a shame that he is himself. What can I do?"
I ask the hobo if he would rather have booze or money to buy booze. If he says he wants the money, I don't give it to him because I know he'll buy booze with it. But if he says he wants the booze, I give him the money because I value honesty, even among lying hobos.
You may be asking yourself at this point, why is this rich man posting on POF when he can have any woman he wants at any time he wants her, just by showing her how much money he has in his shoe? The answer is that I want to date someone who doesn't know that I am rich. I want to be anonymous. Only when we have fallen in love will I reveal to you that I am rich. That is why we must meet thr
FresnoFarmer
Well-Known Member
Because she has purple in her hair.....meaniiiiing.....she's a skank
About Me I swear that if I wasn't sexually attracted to girls that I'd be gay. At least
guys make sense most the time.
First off, girls just talk way too much. When you're with your other
girlfriends, go ahead and talk about whatever the **** you want. I don't care.
But why exactly do you think that I care about the kind of day that your sisters
co-workers dog had? Your sister is nice enough, but I don't know her co-worker
and I certainly don't know her dog. So why the **** are you telling me this
story? I don't care! If you have something worth talking about, then I can enjoy
engaging you in a meaningful conversation. But before you start talking to me
about some of the insane frivolous sh*tthat you talk to your girlfriends about,
first ask yourself "Does this have a point?". Because if it doesn't I'm just
going to smile, and nod, and zone out and you'll get mad because I'm not
listening to your retarded shit!
Stop over complicating everything. There isn't an ulterior motive or hidden
meaning in every other sentance. Unless, I suppose, it's coming out of the mouth
of another woman. Because you ladies never can seem to say what you actually
mean. You have this weird secret code that you love to try and crack and expect
us guys to be able to get in on your stupid game. Guys aren't like that. Rarely
rarely RARELY will you ever have to figure out what a guy is actually saying. We
say what we mean. Girls have such a skewed sense of logic that this simple
concept is often lost on them. When you go searching for some deeper meaning
that isn't there, you're just committing to an act of futility. In the end you
wind up making up some bullsh*tand believing that it must be true and acting on
that false reality and making a mess of something for no apparent reason other
than the fact that you're in-****ing-sane.
Stop getting upset at guys for trying to help solve your problems. That's what
guys do. You present us with a problem, we're going to try and fix it. It's in
our ****ing nature. I know it's in your nature to want to talk about everything,
but if you're going to bring up your problems to a guy, expect that he's going
to try and do something about it or give you advice. Women always **** that
guys don't listen. It's not that we don't listen, we just don't understand why
you're bringing up your problems if you don't want us to do something about it.
We're not as empathetic as your girlfriends, so if you want empathy, go to them.
Likewise, if guys have a problem, they'll probably only bring it up if they need
help or advice. Many women will **** that guys don't talk enough. It's not that
guys don't talk, it's just that your empathy doesn't help solve our problems
when we do talk.
One of the most insanely frustrating things about women is the constant
reassurance. No, you're not fat. If you were fat you wouldn't be able to fit
into that size 2 dress. And yes, you look good. Guys wouldn't be giving you free
sh*tif you were ugly. (There's an ulterior ****ing motive for you. Hint:
They're not giving you free stuff just to be sweet.) It's so frustrating having
to constantly answer those questions, only to not be believed. It's like trying
to convince someone that the sky is blue. You're not blind, you're not even
color blind. You can see that the sky is blue. Yet you continue to ask what
color the sky is. I tell you it's blue. I know that you know what color blue is.
And even though I've told you that the sky is blue about fifty-million times,
you still have to ask because...I don't know...maybe it's not blue today. The
sky is ****ing blue goddammit! You're not ****ing fat! You're not ****ing ugly!
You know it, I know it, everyone ****ing knows it!
And **** all you ultra-hot girls that **** about the most retarded things.
Yeah, all men are ****ing pigs because they stare at your boobs. I'm sure it has
nothing to do with the fact that you're wearing a skin tight low cut shirt that
has 'Bebe' printed across your boobs... one 'Be' per boob. It's totally unfair
that you have to put up with guys staring at you all the time just because you
like to look sexy. And boo hoo, it's so hard for you to meet a nice guy. Well
actually it isn't, because the shoulder your crying on belongs to a nice guy.
He's the one that puts up with all your stupid shit. And yet you some how end up
with all the ***holes. I'm sure that it has nothing to do with the fact that
you're holding out for a six foot tall alpha-male fire fighter with a trust
fund.
And finally, yay for you. You sold a freezer to some eskimos. Congratulations on
being the hot sales rep. We're all very proud of you for being able to have a
nice ass while the rest of us actually have to work for a living. And we're all
so excited to see your new diamond jewelry. Your ability to date another rich
****tard that will shower you with expensive bobbles is commendable. And I'll be
so surprised and sorry for you when he dumps you for the next hot girl. Because
I really thought that materialistic trophy bagger was in love with you. But I'm
happy to hear that you wrecked your fifth car while multi-tasking between your
cell phone and doing your make up in the mirror. Your dedication to enforcing
the stereotype of women drivers is nothing short of awe inspiring. And you're
right, I was being a shallow douchebag when I commented on the hotness of Eva
Longoria. So lets go see that movie where Johnny Depp makes out with Orlando
Bloom on Brad Pitts abs. I know you've been dying to see that one.
Girls...you piss me the **** off. You do stupid sh*tand manage to get away with
it. You can be the most annoying idiots in the world. Your sense of logic and
common sense seems to be a rare gift rather than a common trait. And yet I'm
uncontrollably attracted to you. And that's quite possibly the most frustrating
thing of all.
--YES IM STILL SINGLE
guys make sense most the time.
First off, girls just talk way too much. When you're with your other
girlfriends, go ahead and talk about whatever the **** you want. I don't care.
But why exactly do you think that I care about the kind of day that your sisters
co-workers dog had? Your sister is nice enough, but I don't know her co-worker
and I certainly don't know her dog. So why the **** are you telling me this
story? I don't care! If you have something worth talking about, then I can enjoy
engaging you in a meaningful conversation. But before you start talking to me
about some of the insane frivolous sh*tthat you talk to your girlfriends about,
first ask yourself "Does this have a point?". Because if it doesn't I'm just
going to smile, and nod, and zone out and you'll get mad because I'm not
listening to your retarded shit!
Stop over complicating everything. There isn't an ulterior motive or hidden
meaning in every other sentance. Unless, I suppose, it's coming out of the mouth
of another woman. Because you ladies never can seem to say what you actually
mean. You have this weird secret code that you love to try and crack and expect
us guys to be able to get in on your stupid game. Guys aren't like that. Rarely
rarely RARELY will you ever have to figure out what a guy is actually saying. We
say what we mean. Girls have such a skewed sense of logic that this simple
concept is often lost on them. When you go searching for some deeper meaning
that isn't there, you're just committing to an act of futility. In the end you
wind up making up some bullsh*tand believing that it must be true and acting on
that false reality and making a mess of something for no apparent reason other
than the fact that you're in-****ing-sane.
Stop getting upset at guys for trying to help solve your problems. That's what
guys do. You present us with a problem, we're going to try and fix it. It's in
our ****ing nature. I know it's in your nature to want to talk about everything,
but if you're going to bring up your problems to a guy, expect that he's going
to try and do something about it or give you advice. Women always **** that
guys don't listen. It's not that we don't listen, we just don't understand why
you're bringing up your problems if you don't want us to do something about it.
We're not as empathetic as your girlfriends, so if you want empathy, go to them.
Likewise, if guys have a problem, they'll probably only bring it up if they need
help or advice. Many women will **** that guys don't talk enough. It's not that
guys don't talk, it's just that your empathy doesn't help solve our problems
when we do talk.
One of the most insanely frustrating things about women is the constant
reassurance. No, you're not fat. If you were fat you wouldn't be able to fit
into that size 2 dress. And yes, you look good. Guys wouldn't be giving you free
sh*tif you were ugly. (There's an ulterior ****ing motive for you. Hint:
They're not giving you free stuff just to be sweet.) It's so frustrating having
to constantly answer those questions, only to not be believed. It's like trying
to convince someone that the sky is blue. You're not blind, you're not even
color blind. You can see that the sky is blue. Yet you continue to ask what
color the sky is. I tell you it's blue. I know that you know what color blue is.
And even though I've told you that the sky is blue about fifty-million times,
you still have to ask because...I don't know...maybe it's not blue today. The
sky is ****ing blue goddammit! You're not ****ing fat! You're not ****ing ugly!
You know it, I know it, everyone ****ing knows it!
And **** all you ultra-hot girls that **** about the most retarded things.
Yeah, all men are ****ing pigs because they stare at your boobs. I'm sure it has
nothing to do with the fact that you're wearing a skin tight low cut shirt that
has 'Bebe' printed across your boobs... one 'Be' per boob. It's totally unfair
that you have to put up with guys staring at you all the time just because you
like to look sexy. And boo hoo, it's so hard for you to meet a nice guy. Well
actually it isn't, because the shoulder your crying on belongs to a nice guy.
He's the one that puts up with all your stupid shit. And yet you some how end up
with all the ***holes. I'm sure that it has nothing to do with the fact that
you're holding out for a six foot tall alpha-male fire fighter with a trust
fund.
And finally, yay for you. You sold a freezer to some eskimos. Congratulations on
being the hot sales rep. We're all very proud of you for being able to have a
nice ass while the rest of us actually have to work for a living. And we're all
so excited to see your new diamond jewelry. Your ability to date another rich
****tard that will shower you with expensive bobbles is commendable. And I'll be
so surprised and sorry for you when he dumps you for the next hot girl. Because
I really thought that materialistic trophy bagger was in love with you. But I'm
happy to hear that you wrecked your fifth car while multi-tasking between your
cell phone and doing your make up in the mirror. Your dedication to enforcing
the stereotype of women drivers is nothing short of awe inspiring. And you're
right, I was being a shallow douchebag when I commented on the hotness of Eva
Longoria. So lets go see that movie where Johnny Depp makes out with Orlando
Bloom on Brad Pitts abs. I know you've been dying to see that one.
Girls...you piss me the **** off. You do stupid sh*tand manage to get away with
it. You can be the most annoying idiots in the world. Your sense of logic and
common sense seems to be a rare gift rather than a common trait. And yet I'm
uncontrollably attracted to you. And that's quite possibly the most frustrating
thing of all.
--YES IM STILL SINGLE
srh88
Well-Known Member
now all those chicks are gonna think thats you.. id go with my avatar.. that way theres no possibility of them being upset when they meet you
looking for a relationship. Education Some college
FresnoFarmer
Well-Known Member
srh88
Well-Known Member
i shortened it lol you gettin any hits on this?
cannabineer
Ursus marijanus
Smurf rave! cn