Hey band member, stop right there.
I'm fucking tired of random bands asking to be my friend, I keep checking out your pages and you know what? Most of you SUCK. And I don't mean you're not my style of music. I mean YOU SUCK. Bad. You make me want to cut off my ears and fill the holes with concrete so I can never be so pained again. You make me want to slap each and every one of your "band" members' hands with a 90 pound mallet to permanently cripple you. You make me wish Disco were not dead.
So bands, take the time to ask yourself this question... "Do we really deserve to be the Minister's friend?" If you don't fucking rock, don't amuse me in some way, or if you sound like that whining bullshit on the radio, then NO. No, you do not deserve to be my friend. I'm not here to spread the word of your band. I'm not here to read your irritating bulletins. Myspace isn't a fucking popularity contest, and I'm not helping people who dont understand that attempt to "win" said contest.
If I want to be your friend, I'll find YOU.
One tremendous "If you" to the process.
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TMBG!
They Might Be Giants - The Mesopotamians
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You scored as CPO Galen Tyrol. You never wanted to be a glamorous Viper pilot. You are happy knowing that without you to fix their birds, they cannot fly. You fell in love with the wrong girl, but is that so wrong? Maybe, but you don't really care.
CPO Galen Tyrol
81%
Capt. Lee Adama (Apollo)
75%
Dr Gaius Baltar
75%
Commander William Adama
56%
Lt. Sharon Valerii (Boomer)
56%
Tom Zarek
56%
Lt. Kara Thrace (Starbuck)
50%
Col. Saul Tigh
44%
President Laura Roslin
31%
Number 6
25%
What New Battlestar Galactica character are you?
created with QuizFarm.com
Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.
Born in England sometime in the second decade of the nineteenth century, you carved a notable business career, in South Africa and later San Francisco, until an entry into the rice market wiped out your fortune in 1854. After this, you became quite different. The first sign of this came on September 17, 1859, when you expressed your dissatisfaction with the political situation in America by declaring yourself Norton I, Emperor of the USA. You remained as such, unchallenged, for twenty-one years.
Within a month you had decreed the dissolution of Congress. When this was largely ignored, you summoned all interested parties to discuss the matter in a music hall, and then summoned the army to quell the rebellious leaders in Washington. This did not work. Magnanimously, you decreed (eventually) that Congress could remain for the time being. However, you disbanded both major political parties in 1869, as well as instituting a fine of $25 for using the abominable nickname "Frisco" for your home city.
Your days consisted of parading around your domain - the San Francisco streets - in a uniform of royal blue with gold epaulettes. This was set off by a beaver hat and umbrella. You dispensed philosophy and inspected the state of sidewalks and the police with equal aplomb. You were a great ally of the maligned Chinese of the city, and once dispersed a riot by standing between the Chinese and their would-be assailants and reciting the Lord's Prayer quietly, head bowed.
Once arrested, you were swiftly pardoned by the Police Chief with all apologies, after which all policemen were ordered to salute you on the street. Your renown grew. Proprietors of respectable establishments fixed brass plaques to their walls proclaiming your patronage; musical and theatrical performances invariably reserved seats for you and your two dogs. (As an aside, you were a good friend of Mark Twain, who wrote an epitaph for one of your faithful hounds, Bummer.) The Census of 1870 listed your occupation as "Emperor".
The Board of Supervisors of San Francisco, upon noticing the slightly delapidated state of your attire, replaced it at their own expense. You responded graciously by granting a patent of nobility to each member. Your death, collapsing on the street on January 8, 1880, made front page news under the headline "Le Roi est Mort". Aside from what you had on your person, your possessions amounted to a single sovereign, a collection of walking sticks, an old sabre, your correspondence with Queen Victoria and 1,098,235 shares of stock in a worthless gold mine. Your funeral cortege was of 30,000 people and over two miles long.
The burial on January 11, 1880 was marked by a total eclipse of the sun.
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The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Level Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers) Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) High
Level 2 (Lustful) High
Level 3 (Gluttonous) High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) High
Level 7 (Violent) High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) Moderate
Take the Dante's Inferno Test
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You scored as Existentialism. Your life is guided by the concept of Existentialism: You choose the meaning and purpose of your life.
Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.
It is up to you to give [life] a meaning.
--Jean-Paul Sartre
It is man's natural sickness to believe that he possesses the Truth.
--Blaise Pascal
More info at Arocoun's Wikipedia User Page...
Existentialism
100%
Hedonism
100%
Utilitarianism
75%
Kantianism
70%
Strong Egoism
60%
Justice (Fairness)
55%
Divine Command
30%
Apathy
20%
Nihilism
20%
What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03)
created with QuizFarm.com
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Holy hell... Think it was a slow news day?
This must be the most boring town on earth.
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