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#11
12-16-2004, 03:44 PM
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I really like this one --- soo soo true
 16. Thought for the day: Men are like fine wine. They start out as grapes, and it's up to the women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.
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Why won’t you say something now Don’t leave me hanging Cut me down I miss the fire that was once in your eyes Well come on and say something now 
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#12
12-16-2004, 04:45 PM
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Quote:
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the dude abides 
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#13
12-16-2004, 06:56 PM
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consider yourself lucky as you grew up with a sister that most likely has been doing her share to turn you into an acceptable human being ....... I just had this discussion with a co-worker who insists that you can't marry a guy who didn't grow up with a sister. Men who grew up with brothers only make very very poor partners as they lack the most basic skills of empathy and communication.... thought it was rather interesting.
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Why won’t you say something now Don’t leave me hanging Cut me down I miss the fire that was once in your eyes Well come on and say something now
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#16
12-16-2004, 09:28 PM
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 :P
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#17
12-16-2004, 09:31 PM
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it's hard being a white male trying to make it in this world. we are the true minority  
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the dude abides
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#18
12-17-2004, 02:57 AM
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Quote:
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I wish I was a neutron bomb, for once I could go off I wish I was a sacrifice but somehow still lived on I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on The Christmas tree, I wish I was the star that went on top I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds For 50 million hands upraised and open toward the sky
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#19
12-17-2004, 03:00 AM
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mind you in retrospect I might have to agree with Saz, I too have a very uncommunicative and unsensitive father and he had/has 3 sisters 
__________________
Why won’t you say something now Don’t leave me hanging Cut me down I miss the fire that was once in your eyes Well come on and say something now
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#20
12-17-2004, 03:07 AM
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Quote:
__________________
I wish I was a neutron bomb, for once I could go off I wish I was a sacrifice but somehow still lived on I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on The Christmas tree, I wish I was the star that went on top I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds For 50 million hands upraised and open toward the sky
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