12-29-2011, 01:56 PM
Though the winter of that year was mild, a cold wind blew through the prophet's heart, turning it stony and hard. A voice cried out in the wilderness, "Why do you turn your face from your servant? Did ye not say the number of weeks shall be likely thrice two, though not more than two fifths score? Why then hath that number and more thus elapsed?"
And from the white-capped mountain echoed, "Shit doth happen. Should thou hadst ordered the shade blue known World Rally, thou might be riding thy fine steed, the distant sound of thunder following your hoofbeats."
"But lord," He cried in desperation, "Already in the southlands art mine chosen chroma, yea but for a single option! And they didst have but FOUR weeks elapse from their supplication to their satisfaction!"
And the mountain replied: :dunno:
And thus, the prophet did pout like a whiney bitch.
And from the white-capped mountain echoed, "Shit doth happen. Should thou hadst ordered the shade blue known World Rally, thou might be riding thy fine steed, the distant sound of thunder following your hoofbeats."
"But lord," He cried in desperation, "Already in the southlands art mine chosen chroma, yea but for a single option! And they didst have but FOUR weeks elapse from their supplication to their satisfaction!"
And the mountain replied: :dunno:
And thus, the prophet did pout like a whiney bitch.
1987 Oldsmobile Cutlass 442