Discussion in 'Board Information' started by Turtle, May 21, 2007.
Well there's that.
The Hawk > The Pole
Sorry you guys. I have a white board and like women you guys. Not going to happen between me and Hawk Eye you guys.
Whew! What crazy ride that was. The Hawk ran us ragged. The guy's a wildman.
Pack it in until next year, I guess.
I hear his wife's a C.
He will rise tonight.
It might be time for us to entertain the possibility that Ol' Hawk's cunt wife stumbled across his browser history and, we can surmise, was none too pleased with his post, and murdered him in a fit of rage.
The Hawk's gonna soar.
All eyes are fearful of the spotted hawk,
whose dappled wingspread opens to a phrase
that only victims gaping in the gaze
of Death Occurring can recite. To stalk;
to plunge; to harvest; the denial-squawk
of dying’s struggle; these are but a day’s
rebuke to hunger for the hawk, whose glazed
accord with Death admits no show of shock.
Death’s users know it is not theirs to own,
nor can they fathom all it means to die—
for young to know a different Death from old.
But when the spotted hawk’s last flight is flown,
he too becomes a novice, fear-struck by
the certain plummet once these feathers fold.
We cry for the Hawk's return, yet surely will weep over the consequences of it.
I'm in PA I can bring refreshments and my cock for some butt cumsies.
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