On the tarmac, someone's lungs go splat.

[foray]

(your turn Angie)

 

[Angela Harlem]

Apathy; your sword, your lover
turn from me, i fear no other

 

[foray]

Angie angie... I thought we were playing the game where you morph my sentence then I morph yours and so on?

Like so...
On the tarmac, someone's lungs go splat
So get back, some weird punks gone fat

(or it is a dumb game, no?)

[This message has been edited by foray (edited 01-10-2002).]

 

[Angela Harlem]

yeah sorry! I am in a seriously weird mood tonight.

damn! did you have to start with tarmac? i cant avoid the plane thing here!


i dropped my lung, and that was that, now pick it up and hand it back

 

[foray]

She may be drunk or stuffed with big macs
Now picks her nose and eats it back

oh no, Angie, I've no inspiration either

 

[Angela Harlem]

*nudges furby*

I gotta go to bed soon

but heres a last one 'forya'

stupid fly, leave the room
your baygon spells the end is soon

 

[Angela Harlem]

when inspiration has had its day...
yeah, this aint working like the other one was!

mebee tomorrow night furbs?

 

[foray]

Sorry, Angie.. So goodnight. I gotta go off soon to

ka
ra
o
ke

good night
foray