ha that just to be on the safe side...wt would u do if you were wlkin too close to something radioactive....take a huge circle round it?! could have some fun with this...
in the geeky mode u could test how far radiation spreads etc! bt i wouldnt do that...jess?!
On the second thought, I would lurve it if someone really rich (i.e, Bill Gates, David Griffin) buys me a diploma (both undergrad and postgrad) from Oxford/Harvard or shmancy-fancy place.
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I've got a sweet poison cake, gonnabe high Take me higher higher I've got a sweet creature song, It's a lemon, lemon lemon & I scream
Love the radiation detector. Like a protective amulet against today's sprawling techno jungle. Or something.
Indie boy, you know you can't technically buy a masseur. I think it would very much be an employment situation. I bet Magdalen College would give you a diploma if you re-leaded their battlements, though.
And, Arsecandle, you quite mistake the matter, sir. Trampolines are for cheerleaders. For where, upon the few square meters of trampoline-related bouncyness, can you take the giant boundy steps so integral to the joy of the springy boot thingies?
Jess, I don't believe you know pi to 400 decimal places. The 399th decimal is 9. What is the 400th? Mwah ha ha.
I bet u guys were badly bullied at school 4 been so damn geeky....
Cory, am good at massage n like givin them, I'll draw up a contract later...
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Nic // LGBT Society Events Officer 05/06 // LGBT Assembly Chair 05/06 - NUS LGBT Society of the year 2006(winners) //
LUU honarary life member - Awarded 2006 // LGBT Assembly Mentor 2006 -Onwards.
Contact me at nicturner_85@hotmail.com
ha ha, type into google pi an im sure ull find the 401st too... since when do i count sheep?! would love to n o wher eu got that from since ur the one from wales (no offence sorry to anyone else)
Lol, foolio i was not suggesting that you count sheep; merely saying that i dont! As you so rightly said being from Wales anything involving sheep is highly suspicious, not to mention dangerous; you just dont know what diseases they might have.....
Cudda contained worse things tho. Is it true that every1 born in wales is automatically allocated a pair of velcro gloves??
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Nic // LGBT Society Events Officer 05/06 // LGBT Assembly Chair 05/06 - NUS LGBT Society of the year 2006(winners) //
LUU honarary life member - Awarded 2006 // LGBT Assembly Mentor 2006 -Onwards.
Contact me at nicturner_85@hotmail.com
Hmmmm I was not actually born in Wales so i do not know; if indeed they do, it must be something they keep hush hush, i was not aware of such a tradition. Now that i think about it though, I always wondered where my friend got those rather scratchy gloves of hers .....
Hmm. I now have images of tenacious farmers being dragged face-down around fields, velcroed to the arse of a coquettish sheep.
Sheep are no good anyway; you have to squat right down to get low enough and then sort of thrust your crotch forward in a most compromising way. Hefers are the best by far, you have to stand on a milk-crate to service a full-grown cow.
Nic // LGBT Society Events Officer 05/06 // LGBT Assembly Chair 05/06 - NUS LGBT Society of the year 2006(winners) //
LUU honarary life member - Awarded 2006 // LGBT Assembly Mentor 2006 -Onwards.
Contact me at nicturner_85@hotmail.com
Not my own. I think FHM did an article on the right way to go about it: Top twenty alternatives to masturbation. Sex came in twelfth, after rubber-gloves and the side of the fridge door.
Alas. Only for girls. Right? Once in Edinburgh our taxi sped over some cobbles and my sisters shared a devlish knowing look. *shudders* Why do we gays notice everything? (Except, of course, when an well-favoured man of good fortune fanices us. Then we turn on the cataracts. Sigh. )
A flat mate once tried to gross me out by saying he used the sofa cushions but I reckon they so wouldn't work. Polyester twill hasn't the friction. Has anyone ever used a fake vagina? Now those look wierd. And dubious. Do they go in the diswasher, do you think?
You love it!! One needs to know what's down in the streets. Haven't you heard tell of those Victorian brides who ran mad with terror on thier wedding nights? Ending up rocking back and forth in a padded cell and muttering to themselves "all men are absolute beasts". Only the unshockable are safe...