|
Post by bryan on Nov 18, 2012 19:50:13 GMT -5
Tragedy, oh Tragedy. Why do you make that face at me?
I try so hard, surely you see. We all want you to be happy.
You scoff at jokes, and yell at folks. All to whom, you once had spoke.
We ask you why, but you won't answer. Flackity floopity, fleepity cancer.
Also to BSam, and Shelly; There is no need to be jelly.
Trag just tried to stir the pot. You let him do so, did you not?
I don't see why we can't be friends. Let's hold hands, and make amends.
Sing prayer songs, and walk for cancer. Soar like graceful, Russian dancers.
I love Trag, I swear its true. But even more, Trag loves YOU.
He lives in all our hearts and souls. Lets not leave him unconsoled.
|
|
|
Post by soufflé on Nov 18, 2012 20:00:20 GMT -5
Flackity floopity, fleepity cancer. oh my god this is simultaneously terrible and great
|
|
|
Post by penne on Nov 18, 2012 20:32:06 GMT -5
I <3 TRAG
|
|
|
Post by Poe's Coats Host Toast on Nov 18, 2012 21:24:27 GMT -5
Thank you, Bryan, for stating what we all feel in such a flackity floopity lovely poem. I hope you will return our affections, Tragedy... *plays WAR's "Why Can't We Be Friends"*
|
|
|
Post by Tryina Denouement on Nov 19, 2012 3:15:10 GMT -5
I hope Trag will not frown away.
|
|
|
Post by Hermedy on Nov 19, 2012 8:28:47 GMT -5
|
|
|
Post by B. on Nov 19, 2012 11:07:14 GMT -5
Flackity floopity, fleepity cancer. By the time I got to that line, I was gone.
|
|
|
Post by penne on Nov 19, 2012 11:08:05 GMT -5
By the time I got to that line, I had cancer.
|
|
|
Post by Kit's tits kick ticks on Nov 19, 2012 14:05:47 GMT -5
There seems to be no cure for his frownitis. Not even this poem
|
|
|
Post by soufflé on Nov 19, 2012 15:05:58 GMT -5
He sent me a winky face the other day.
|
|
|
Post by penne on Nov 19, 2012 15:24:33 GMT -5
That's because you're his fiancee.
|
|
|
Post by bryan on Nov 19, 2012 15:58:22 GMT -5
I set a pace, to change your face. Why wont you just leave this place? I tried so hard, you stayed the same. I took a gamble, lost the game. Check yourself, Or wreck yourself. Bleeby, blooby, GO TO HELL. You rule with malice, just peace out, hater. No one wants an angry moderator. <3 Bryan
|
|
|
Post by soufflé on Nov 19, 2012 16:30:10 GMT -5
Check yourself, Or wreck yourself. Bleeby, blooby, GO TO HELL. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA omg guys i'm dead
|
|
|
Post by Linda Rhaldeen on Nov 19, 2012 18:11:36 GMT -5
Tragedy's last 8 posts have been an face.
|
|
|
Post by Charlie on Nov 19, 2012 19:08:36 GMT -5
How about we dedicate, like, a week to making Tragedy happy again... Happedy week? It was a stupid idea, and it is doomed from the outset, but still. Perhaps this is a tie-in with Sherry-Ann's 667 fic she started a while ago where Hermes could only communicate with Smiley faces, lol, and omg. Who knows.
|
|