Last person to post wins.

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*stumbles into thread, head wreathed in migraine fog, contemplates telling slightly rude joke about a Scotsman and his kilt, changes her mind, stumbles out again*

*Makes to journey towards 1000 posts, nearly 3/4 of the way there*

*wins*

*wins*

i win!

If I try to convince my Asperger's friend to join this place, will I win?

What I've been doing lately is feeling somewhat yucky. Had a headache all night and this morning. It's finally somewhat gone. Tried playing San Andreas, but the game still randomly locks up on me so all i can do is short bursts of screwing around with it. Work called, but I'm going. Went for a walk instead.
A storm blew through last night and took most of the leaves down. It really looks like fall now outside. Lots of colors out.

So how is everyone's day?

*Droooooools*
er....
I win....

my leg itches.

Darlings, it's very simple really.

In "The last person to post wins" thread, you are permitted to prance, glower, sulk, intimidate, shout, and threaten. Loud, off-key singing, however, must be taken to the "Limerick" thread where it belongs; UNLESS said singing is done in the style of any character from either Blackadder or Monty Python's Flying Circus, in which case it is permitted to remain in the "Last person to post" thread per "General Exceptions: British Humour", Subsection E, Paragraph 2.

If this isn't in the Site FAQ, it should be.

what if you sing like a cat being strangled?

There has been some debate about whether this should be done in one of the Cat Appreciation threads. If you are in doubt, the safest course is to create a new thread: "Loudest strangled-cat singing with extra sustain and vibrato", perhaps.

And playing the clarinet? what thread can that be reduced to?

I seldom visit that part of the boards, but there are Topical Discussion threads on Art, Writing, and Music; Television, Film, and Video; Computers, Math, Science, and Technology; Games, Sports, and Fitness; and Politics, Philosophy, and Religion. Go for your life!

Ten-four, good buddy.

(^_^)

The sound of hoofbeats 'cross the glade,
Good folk, lock up your sons and daughter,
Beware the deadly flashing blade,
Unless you want to end up shorter.

Blackaaaaaadder, Blackaaaaaaadder,
He rides a pitch-black steed,
Blackaaaaaadder, Blackaaaaaaadder,
He's very bad indeed.

Black, his gloves of finest mole,
Black, his codpiece made of metal,
His horse is blacker than a vole,
His pot is blacker than his kettle.

Blackaaaaaadder, Blackaaaaaaadder,
With many a cunning plan,
Blackaaaaaadder, Blackaaaaaaadder,
You horrid little man!