Ohai i gots th win btichs i win cause i didnt put th lttr E in my sentence
fuck
Hi guys. What is up?
15 words is not a hard goal to attain at all for a good man such as the OP.
I win.
dont fucking tell me what to do
How about no
This is too difficult, I bid you to adjust this ridiculous dictum!
I think what I said sounds silly. :saddowns:
:byodood::fh:
Still no forbidd'n lttr's
Had to post that.
God sp33d
Okey
[editline]11:57PM[/editline]
God fucking damnit.
This is similar to this story I was told third hand by my good pal johnny. Johnny was a good boy, didn't do anything bad, Johnny couldn't if god want him boy too. (dug myself into a hole there)
this thrd is funny
E
This post is almost awkward. Look for your own. I did not and I will not post with that thing that you don't want us to post with. It's choppy and, umm... Don't sound right, I think. Okay, I think I'll stop now or I might post a post that is also awkward.
That was awkward, but I didn't post with that thing that you didn't want us to post with.
Fuck
This particular strand of this forum sucks.
[QUOTE=Arachnidus;19268618]This particular strand of this forum sucks.[/QUOTE]
Gotta agr with you thr.
Why am I posting in this topic? I don't know, actually.
I don't know about you, but I miss old TV shows.
r3ply
[QUOTE=pl0xy;13742800]Ok, i am pwning, i win, i am super winning, i am owning you, har har har.[/QUOTE]
[highlight]No.[/highlight]
If Youth, throughout all history, had had a champion to stand up for it; to show a doubting world that a child can think; and, possibly, do it practically, you wouldn't constantly run across folks today who claim that "a child don't know anything." A child's brain starts functioning at birth; and has, amongst its many infant convolutions, thousands of dormant atoms, into which God has put a mystic possibility for noticing an adult's act, and figuring out its purport.
Up to about its primary school days a child thinks, naturally, only of play. But many a form of play contains disciplinary factor. "You can't do this," or "that puts out out," shows a child that it must think, practically, or fail. Now, if, throughout childhood, a brain has no opposition, it is plain that it will attain a position of "status quo," as with our ordinary animals. Man knows not why a cow, dog, or lion was not born with a brain on a par with ours; why such animals cannot add, subtract, or obtain from books and schooling, that paramount position which Man Holds today.
But a human brain is not in that class. Constantly throbbing and pulsating, it rapidly forms opinions; attaining an ability of its own; a fact which is startlingly shown by an occasional child "prodigy" in music or school work. And as, with our dumb animals, a child's inability convincingly to impart its thoughts to us, should not class it as ignorant.
Upon this basis I am going to show you how a bunch of bright young folks did find a champion; a man with boys and girls of his own; a man of so dominating and happy individuality that Youth is drawn to him as is a fly to a sugar bowl. It is a story about a small town. It is not a gossipy yarn; nor is it a dry, monotonous account, full of such customary "fill-ins" as "romantic moonlight casting murky shadows down a long, winding country road." Nor will it say anything about tinklings lulling distant folds; robins carolling at twilight, nor any "warm glow of lamplight" from a cabin window. No. It is an account of up-and-doing activity; a vivid portrayal of Youth as it is today; and a practical discarding of that worn-out notion that "a child don't know anything."
Now, any author, from history's dawn, always had that most important aid to writing:—an ability to call upon any word in his dictionary in building up his story. That is, our strict laws as to word construction did not block his path. But in my story that mighty obstruction will constantly stand in my path; for many an important, common word I cannot adopt, owing to its orthography.
I shall act as a sort of historian for this small town; associating with its inhabitants, and striving to acquaint you with its youths, in such a way that you can look, knowingly, upon any child, rich or poor; forward or "backward;" your won, or John Smith's, in your community. You will find many young minds aspiring to know how, and WHY such a thing is so. And if a child shows curiosity in that way, how ridiculous it is for to snap out:—
"Oh! Don't ask about things too old for you!"
Such a jolt to a young child's mind, craving instruction, is apt so to dull its avidity, as to hold it back in its school work. Try to look upon a child as a small, soft young body and a rapidly growing, constantly inquiring brain. It must grow to maturity slowly. Forcing a child through school by constant night study during hours in which it should run and play, can bring on insomnia; handicapping both brain and body.
Now this small town in our story had grown in just that way:—slowly; in fact, much too slowly to stand on a par with many a thousand of its kind in this big, vigorous nation of ours. It was simply...
This post brought to you by xpod1.
thr onc was a boy who lovd fucking cats
Would hav bn funnir if it was "Don't us th lttr x in your rply"
Hello..WAIT FUCK
Conro's post count gains a post
Okay, I won't.
Maggots.
Gah, my brains!
Sorry, you need to Log In to post a reply to this thread.
