|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2007 12:50 pm
We're going to write a book together sort of, I'll start with three sentences and the next person has to continue it adding at least another three sentences. They can add up to five but no more *all right if you're really on a roll you can add a little bit more. Aren't I nice! xp * Please don't do anything to lewd or gross. That's it folks so I'll start it.
Long ago there lived a jester, who's life goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
Okay take her away guys!! Good luck!!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2007 1:58 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, who's life goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2007 4:22 pm
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village oad when he came up to me. He tol me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 29, 2007 4:57 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, who's life goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was ((You know, you're supposed to finish the sentence, not let others finish it for you.))
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2007 11:31 am
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2007 12:14 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the moster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2007 12:25 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the moster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
As the jester fell I turned to watch in terror as the monster fell upon the ground... in laughter? I watched in amazement as the bloody and hairy brute gave a bark of laughter, and he couldn't stop," You should've seen your face!! Bwahahahahahaaaa!!!!" I ran to the jester and helped him up and we stared at the brute in amazement.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2007 1:08 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the moster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
As the jester fell I turned to watch in terror as the monster fell upon the ground... in laughter? I watched in amazement as the bloody and hairy brute gave a bark of laughter, and he couldn't stop," You should've seen your face!! Bwahahahahahaaaa!!!!" I ran to the jester and helped him up and we stared at the brute in amazement.
"Really, what a bipolar monster!" I exclaimed to myself. "Can't you make up your mind?" The jester turned to look at me, then back at the monster.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2007 6:38 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the moster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
As the jester fell I turned to watch in terror as the monster fell upon the ground... in laughter? I watched in amazement as the bloody and hairy brute gave a bark of laughter, and he couldn't stop," You should've seen your face!! Bwahahahahahaaaa!!!!" I ran to the jester and helped him up and we stared at the brute in amazement.
"Really, what a bipolar monster!" I exclaimed to myself. "Can't you make up your mind?" The jester turned to look at me, then back at the monster.
"I guess it just has a more...primitive... sense of humor," the jester said with a sigh. "From now on, I will carry more banana peels with me when I go into the woods." As I was trying to come up with a way to explain that this might b ea bad idea, as some monsters would see a fallen jester as a meal rather than a joke (or perhaps as both), a sudden clamor arose on the road behind us.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2007 6:49 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the moster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
As the jester fell I turned to watch in terror as the monster fell upon the ground... in laughter? I watched in amazement as the bloody and hairy brute gave a bark of laughter, and he couldn't stop," You should've seen your face!! Bwahahahahahaaaa!!!!" I ran to the jester and helped him up and we stared at the brute in amazement.
"Really, what a bipolar monster!" I exclaimed to myself. "Can't you make up your mind?" The jester turned to look at me, then back at the monster.
"I guess it just has a more...primitive... sense of humor," the jester said with a sigh. "From now on, I will carry more banana peels with me when I go into the woods." As I was trying to come up with a way to explain that this might b ea bad idea, as some monsters would see a fallen jester as a meal rather than a joke (or perhaps as both), a sudden clamor arose on the road behind us.
A large procession rode up behind us. It seemed to me to be a gathering of old, rich people, which I avoided by principle. The jester, though, gathered himself up and approached the procession, ready to get them to all laugh.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 30, 2007 8:03 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the moster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
As the jester fell I turned to watch in terror as the monster fell upon the ground... in laughter? I watched in amazement as the bloody and hairy brute gave a bark of laughter, and he couldn't stop," You should've seen your face!! Bwahahahahahaaaa!!!!" I ran to the jester and helped him up and we stared at the brute in amazement.
"Really, what a bipolar monster!" I exclaimed to myself. "Can't you make up your mind?" The jester turned to look at me, then back at the monster.
"I guess it just has a more...primitive... sense of humor," the jester said with a sigh. "From now on, I will carry more banana peels with me when I go into the woods." As I was trying to come up with a way to explain that this might be a bad idea, as some monsters would see a fallen jester as a meal rather than a joke (or perhaps as both), a sudden clamor arose on the road behind us.
A large procession rode up behind us. It seemed to me to be a gathering of old, rich people, which I avoided by principle. The jester, though, gathered himself up and approached the procession, ready to get them to all laugh.
And I must admit, he put on quite a show. He juggled knives, slipped on banana peels, told jokes, and acted out charades. He even pulled rabbits out of his hat, which was quite a feat as he hadn't been wearing a hat when I saw him. His audience was strangely silent, however, until his final act.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Dec 01, 2007 5:19 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the moster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
As the jester fell I turned to watch in terror as the monster fell upon the ground... in laughter? I watched in amazement as the bloody and hairy brute gave a bark of laughter, and he couldn't stop," You should've seen your face!! Bwahahahahahaaaa!!!!" I ran to the jester and helped him up and we stared at the brute in amazement.
"Really, what a bipolar monster!" I exclaimed to myself. "Can't you make up your mind?" The jester turned to look at me, then back at the monster.
"I guess it just has a more...primitive... sense of humor," the jester said with a sigh. "From now on, I will carry more banana peels with me when I go into the woods." As I was trying to come up with a way to explain that this might be a bad idea, as some monsters would see a fallen jester as a meal rather than a joke (or perhaps as both), a sudden clamor arose on the road behind us.
A large procession rode up behind us. It seemed to me to be a gathering of old, rich people, which I avoided by principle. The jester, though, gathered himself up and approached the procession, ready to get them to all laugh.
And I must admit, he put on quite a show. He juggled knives, slipped on banana peels, told jokes, and acted out charades. He even pulled rabbits out of his hat, which was quite a feat as he hadn't been wearing a hat when I saw him. His audience was strangely silent, however, until his final act. "And for my next trick it involves my new partner...er umm...what's your name again?" The jester asked me. "Cchriss," I said with grave hesatation.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Dec 02, 2007 4:03 pm
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the moster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
As the jester fell I turned to watch in terror as the monster fell upon the ground... in laughter? I watched in amazement as the bloody and hairy brute gave a bark of laughter, and he couldn't stop," You should've seen your face!! Bwahahahahahaaaa!!!!" I ran to the jester and helped him up and we stared at the brute in amazement.
"Really, what a bipolar monster!" I exclaimed to myself. "Can't you make up your mind?" The jester turned to look at me, then back at the monster.
"I guess it just has a more...primitive... sense of humor," the jester said with a sigh. "From now on, I will carry more banana peels with me when I go into the woods." As I was trying to come up with a way to explain that this might be a bad idea, as some monsters would see a fallen jester as a meal rather than a joke (or perhaps as both), a sudden clamor arose on the road behind us.
A large procession rode up behind us. It seemed to me to be a gathering of old, rich people, which I avoided by principle. The jester, though, gathered himself up and approached the procession, ready to get them to all laugh.
And I must admit, he put on quite a show. He juggled knives, slipped on banana peels, told jokes, and acted out charades. He even pulled rabbits out of his hat, which was quite a feat as he hadn't been wearing a hat when I saw him. His audience was strangely silent, however, until his final act.
"And for my next trick it involves my new partner...er umm...what's your name again?" The jester asked me. "Cchriss," I said with grave hesatation.
"Cchriss? Interesting name. Now gather around closely my fair friends, for this is a sight you will never again be witness too. No soull as ever before attempted such a dangerous and astonishing feat."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 05, 2007 10:52 am
Long ago there lived a jester, whose life's goal was to make everyone he met laugh. But it wasn't as easy or simple as it sounded. This is his story.
It isn't a long story, for it wasn't a long life. It was, however, a life of incident and adventure, though the latter were usually accidental. I first met him during one of these adventures, on a day I will never forget.
I, Chris P. Bacon was walking down the village road when he came up to me. He told me this joke and he asked me what do you call a bad psychic? and the answer was: Telepathetic! and the next joke was
...so bad that I can't write it down for fear that your eyes will drop from their very sockets in horror. That day happened to be a particularly fine day, and there I was ruining it with my bad jokes. The jester simply stared at me, uncomprehending.
That was when the monster charged out of the woods, blood dripping from its slavering mouth. It seems that the joker had tried to make him laugh by telling him the very same joke earlier in the day. He hadn't appreciated it.
The unappreciation was understandable; the overreaction wasn't. The jester and I turned and ran from the monster. The jester slipped on a loose pebble in the road and fell heavily to the ground.
As the jester fell I turned to watch in terror as the monster fell upon the ground... in laughter? I watched in amazement as the bloody and hairy brute gave a bark of laughter, and he couldn't stop," You should've seen your face!! Bwahahahahahaaaa!!!!" I ran to the jester and helped him up and we stared at the brute in amazement.
"Really, what a bipolar monster!" I exclaimed to myself. "Can't you make up your mind?" The jester turned to look at me, then back at the monster.
"I guess it just has a more...primitive... sense of humor," the jester said with a sigh. "From now on, I will carry more banana peels with me when I go into the woods." As I was trying to come up with a way to explain that this might be a bad idea, as some monsters would see a fallen jester as a meal rather than a joke (or perhaps as both), a sudden clamor arose on the road behind us.
A large procession rode up behind us. It seemed to me to be a gathering of old, rich people, which I avoided by principle. The jester, though, gathered himself up and approached the procession, ready to get them to all laugh.
And I must admit, he put on quite a show. He juggled knives, slipped on banana peels, told jokes, and acted out charades. He even pulled rabbits out of his hat, which was quite a feat as he hadn't been wearing a hat when I saw him. His audience was strangely silent, however, until his final act.
"And for my next trick it involves my new partner...er umm...what's your name again?" The jester asked me. "Cchriss," I said with grave hesitation.
"Cchriss? Interesting name. Now gather around closely my fair friends, for this is a sight you will never again be witness too. No soul as ever before attempted such a dangerous and astonishing feat."
"Dangerous?" I quavered. "I don't think I like this idea."
That was when the jester decided he would never, ever, under any circumstances make me laugh. I've never been able to decide whether that was his revenge or a reward.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 05, 2007 11:43 am
"say jester", i asked, "who are these grumpy old people following you about?"
"oh, those are my agents, attorneys, accountants, and reps from the JIAA, you know the jester industry making sure they get royalties" he sighed.
"say, do you suppose, just for the hell of it, or maybe for a few dollars..and rabbits...and bananas...you could try to laugh at something for me, just to get these guys off my back?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|