free scripts Posted on March 5, 2004 by Anand Sarwate “I did not then. I just riz the loy and let fall the edge of it on the ridge of his skull, and he went down at my feet like an empty sack, and never let a grunt or groan from him at all.” “Thy worst. I fart at thee.” “Mother, give me the sun.” “Dot vhiskey gat kick, by yingo!” “Didst thou ever see / A lark in a cage? Such is the soul in the body: this world / Is like her little turf of grass, and the heaven o’er our heads, / Like her looking-glass, only gives us a miserable knowledge / Of the small compass of our prison.” Share this: Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on X (Opens in new window) X Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Like Loading... Related
An Ergodic Walk 
Thanks dude.