ONZ Onzin voor je leven!
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Op 
Taalnazi's schijnen nare mensen te zijn.quote:
Glibber links, glibber rechts
Op vrijdag 12 april 2019 11:32 schreef Grrrrrrrr het volgende:
:B :"Ja, da's zielug hoor! Een slak zouten! TJILP!"
Op vrijdag 12 april 2019 11:32 schreef Grrrrrrrr het volgende:
:B :"Ja, da's zielug hoor! Een slak zouten! TJILP!"
Op 
Kan hoor.quote:Op zaterdag 12 januari 2019 17:14 schreef Borrelnootje00 het volgende:
[..]
dat is mijn beleving miss werkt het voor jou anders
Borrel Nootje looked at the bendy piano in his hands and felt happy.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his pretty surroundings. He had always loved quiet West Boggins with its jittery, joyous jungle. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Haags Kwartiertje. Haags was a tactless writer with pretty eyes and red fingers.
Borrel gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a bold, smart, whiskey drinker with scrawny eyes and wobbly fingers. His friends saw him as a loud, low lawyer. Once, he had even helped a sweet blind person cross the road.
But not even a bold person who had once helped a sweet blind person cross the road, was prepared for what Haags had in store today.
The clouds danced like thinking dogs, making Borrel surprised.
As Borrel stepped outside and Haags came closer, he could see the inexpensive glint in her eye.
Haags glared with all the wrath of 4975 selfish glamorous gerbils. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want Love."
Borrel looked back, even more surprised and still fingering the bendy piano. "Haags, Is that real leather," he replied.
They looked at each other with surprised feelings, like two glamorous, greasy gerbils sitting at a very cute rave, which had reggae music playing in the background and two controlling uncles jogging to the beat.
Suddenly, Haags lunged forward and tried to punch Borrel in the face. Quickly, Borrel grabbed the bendy piano and brought it down on Haags's skull.
Haags's pretty eyes trembled and her red fingers wobbled. She looked healthy, her emotions raw like a breezy, brainy book.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Haags Kwartiertje was dead.
Borrel Nootje went back inside and made himself a nice glass of whiskey.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his pretty surroundings. He had always loved quiet West Boggins with its jittery, joyous jungle. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Haags Kwartiertje. Haags was a tactless writer with pretty eyes and red fingers.
Borrel gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a bold, smart, whiskey drinker with scrawny eyes and wobbly fingers. His friends saw him as a loud, low lawyer. Once, he had even helped a sweet blind person cross the road.
But not even a bold person who had once helped a sweet blind person cross the road, was prepared for what Haags had in store today.
The clouds danced like thinking dogs, making Borrel surprised.
As Borrel stepped outside and Haags came closer, he could see the inexpensive glint in her eye.
Haags glared with all the wrath of 4975 selfish glamorous gerbils. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want Love."
Borrel looked back, even more surprised and still fingering the bendy piano. "Haags, Is that real leather," he replied.
They looked at each other with surprised feelings, like two glamorous, greasy gerbils sitting at a very cute rave, which had reggae music playing in the background and two controlling uncles jogging to the beat.
Suddenly, Haags lunged forward and tried to punch Borrel in the face. Quickly, Borrel grabbed the bendy piano and brought it down on Haags's skull.
Haags's pretty eyes trembled and her red fingers wobbled. She looked healthy, her emotions raw like a breezy, brainy book.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Haags Kwartiertje was dead.
Borrel Nootje went back inside and made himself a nice glass of whiskey.
Glibber links, glibber rechts
Op vrijdag 12 april 2019 11:32 schreef Grrrrrrrr het volgende:
:B :"Ja, da's zielug hoor! Een slak zouten! TJILP!"
Op vrijdag 12 april 2019 11:32 schreef Grrrrrrrr het volgende:
:B :"Ja, da's zielug hoor! Een slak zouten! TJILP!"
Ja.quote:
Borrel Nootje looked at the bendy piano in his hands and felt happy.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his pretty surroundings. He had always loved quiet West Boggins with its jittery, joyous jungle. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Haags Kwartiertje. Haags was a tactless writer with pretty eyes and red fingers.
Borrel gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a bold, smart, whiskey drinker with scrawny eyes and wobbly fingers. His friends saw him as a loud, low lawyer. Once, he had even helped a sweet blind person cross the road.
But not even a bold person who had once helped a sweet blind person cross the road, was prepared for what Haags had in store today.
The clouds danced like thinking dogs, making Borrel surprised.
As Borrel stepped outside and Haags came closer, he could see the inexpensive glint in her eye.
Haags glared with all the wrath of 4975 selfish glamorous gerbils. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want Love."
Borrel looked back, even more surprised and still fingering the bendy piano. "Haags, Is that real leather," he replied.
They looked at each other with surprised feelings, like two glamorous, greasy gerbils sitting at a very cute rave, which had reggae music playing in the background and two controlling uncles jogging to the beat.
Suddenly, Haags lunged forward and tried to punch Borrel in the face. Quickly, Borrel grabbed the bendy piano and brought it down on Haags's skull.
Haags's pretty eyes trembled and her red fingers wobbled. She looked healthy, her emotions raw like a breezy, brainy book.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Haags Kwartiertje was dead.
Borrel Nootje went back inside and made himself a nice glass of whiskey.
Zonder wrijving geen glans
quote:
Borrel Nootje looked at the bendy piano in his hands and felt happy.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his pretty surroundings. He had always loved quiet West Boggins with its jittery, joyous jungle. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Haags Kwartiertje. Haags was a tactless writer with pretty eyes and red fingers.
Borrel gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a bold, smart, whiskey drinker with scrawny eyes and wobbly fingers. His friends saw him as a loud, low lawyer. Once, he had even helped a sweet blind person cross the road.
But not even a bold person who had once helped a sweet blind person cross the road, was prepared for what Haags had in store today.
The clouds danced like thinking dogs, making Borrel surprised.
As Borrel stepped outside and Haags came closer, he could see the inexpensive glint in her eye.
Haags glared with all the wrath of 4975 selfish glamorous gerbils. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want Love."
Borrel looked back, even more surprised and still fingering the bendy piano. "Haags, Is that real leather," he replied.
They looked at each other with surprised feelings, like two glamorous, greasy gerbils sitting at a very cute rave, which had reggae music playing in the background and two controlling uncles jogging to the beat.
Suddenly, Haags lunged forward and tried to punch Borrel in the face. Quickly, Borrel grabbed the bendy piano and brought it down on Haags's skull.
Haags's pretty eyes trembled and her red fingers wobbled. She looked healthy, her emotions raw like a breezy, brainy book.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Haags Kwartiertje was dead.
Borrel Nootje went back inside and made himself a nice glass of whiskey.
wat
'' I am under no obligation to make sense to you.''
