PTA Planes, Trains & Automobiles
Gemotoriseerd of niet, alles op wielen heeft hier een plek. Van oldtimers tot je nieuwe fiets, van Smart tot brandweerwagen, post het hier!
Die nitraten die ik ken, gaan eerst heel fel groen branden en dan komt er een rete harde knalquote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 18:36 schreef ook_gek het volgende:
[..]
ja die zijn ook leuk maar ik het het over die dingen die kneiter hard knallen
Is dat een radar antenne op het dakquote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 18:06 schreef Alexxxxx het volgende:
[afbeelding]
Merk en type: Freightliner FLD120
Eigenaar: Anema
Land van herkomst: Nederland
Locatie: Stiens
Datum: 16-12-2005
Fotograaf/Bron: Alex Miedema
Bijzonderheden: ik heb een complete fotoreeks gemakat van deze truck, de geïnteresseerden kunnen die hier bekijken.
** Die nacht ist vorbei, ein neuer Tag beginnt. Alles sprung. Stadtkind. Berlin. **
Men legt 5 nitraten achter elkaar, legt er een goede vuurpijl dwars achterlangs, legt een steen op de vuurpijl, steekt deze laatste aan, en zorgt dat hij weg komt
"Do me a favor, try not to think, you're going to hurt yourself"
"You go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company"
"You go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company"
betonstrijkers enzo is het betere werk Of kleine dynamietstaven, scheelt dat ik dicht bij de grens woon
altijd leuk op de voetbal, tijdens een wedstrijd gewoon een paar lawinepijlen afsteken
Of kleine dynamietstaven, scheelt dat ik dicht bij de grens woon altijd leuk op de voetbal, tijdens een wedstrijd gewoon een paar lawinepijlen afsteken
Jaquote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 18:45 schreef Sjoewe het volgende:
[..]
Is dat een radar antenne op het dak
illegalequote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 18:36 schreef ook_gek het volgende:
[..]
ja die zijn ook leuk maar ik het het over die dingen die kneiter hard knallen
* BazzoS vandaag 30 nitraten opgehaald heeft.
Waarom in godsnaamquote:
** Die nacht ist vorbei, ein neuer Tag beginnt. Alles sprung. Stadtkind. Berlin. **
Don't Shave That Hair!!!
I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble shitting.
No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my asscheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.
I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.
I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.
Little did I know.
I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two asscheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.
Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic shit- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.
Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering shit/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own shit blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."
Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my asscheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.
As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your ass having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.
Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!
Poeptips
Poeptopics rule
I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble shitting.
No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my asscheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.
I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.
I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occassionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.
Little did I know.
I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two asscheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.
Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic shit- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.
Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering shit/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own shit blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."
Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my asscheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.
As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your ass having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.
Friends, DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!
Poeptips
Poeptopics rule
Oke, zo'n tering lang verhaal in het engels ga ik dus niet lezen, kun je ff in het kort en in het nederlands het vertalen?
"Do me a favor, try not to think, you're going to hurt yourself"
"You go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company"
"You go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company"
quote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 19:36 schreef PeuRac het volgende:
Oke, zo'n tering lang verhaal in het engels ga ik dus niet lezen, kun je ff in het kort en in het nederlands het vertalen?
** Die nacht ist vorbei, ein neuer Tag beginnt. Alles sprung. Stadtkind. Berlin. **
Nee het gaat er juist om hoe het geschreven isquote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 19:36 schreef PeuRac het volgende:
Oke, zo'n tering lang verhaal in het engels ga ik dus niet lezen, kun je ff in het kort en in het nederlands het vertalen?
tering wat een sukkel, wie scheert er nu ook zijn reet
"Do me a favor, try not to think, you're going to hurt yourself"
"You go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company"
"You go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company"
inderdaad, met deodorant en een aansteker gaat het veel vluggerquote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 20:11 schreef PeuRac het volgende:
tering wat een sukkel, wie scheert er nu ook zijn reet
Zal ik vast 112 bellen?quote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 20:19 schreef Alexxxxx het volgende:
[..]
inderdaad, met deodorant en een aansteker gaat het veel vlugger
The secret to happiness is freedom...
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
avond trouwens
The secret to happiness is freedom...
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
Neh, heb inmidels redlijk ervairng als pyromaan.quote:
ook goedenavond... weer even uit je SM-keldertje gekropen?
Nee, daar ben ik om 14u ofzo al aan ontsnapt. De eerste paar dagen kon ik me daar super concentreren, maar dat schoot de afgelopen 2 dagen niet opquote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 20:31 schreef Alexxxxx het volgende:
[..]
Neh, heb inmidels redlijk ervairng als pyromaan.
ook goedenavond... weer even uit je SM-keldertje gekropen?
Ben nu bij moeders
Maar jij brandt je kont & schaamhaar dus weg
The secret to happiness is freedom...
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
nee, ik knip mn schaamhaar bij, en mn konthaar rond mn sluitspier, omdat ik klonten poep in mn haar zo onsmakelijk vind, maar waarom wil je dat in 's hemelsnaam weten?
!quote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 20:34 schreef Alexxxxx het volgende:
nee, ik knip mn schaamhaar bij, en mn konthaar rond mn sluitspier, omdat ik klonten poep in mn haar zo onsmakelijk vind, maar waarom wil je dat in 's hemelsnaam weten?
Dat wil ik helemaal niet weten!
Jij begint over weg branden
The secret to happiness is freedom...
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
quote:Op vrijdag 16 december 2005 20:37 schreef Alexxxxx het volgende:
ja, dingen in de fik steken in het algemeen, kakvriendje van me
Dat snapte ik toch niet links langharig werkschuwzaam tuig
The secret to happiness is freedom...
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
And the secret to freedom is courage.
Thucydides
Oke, kiezen uit 4 dingen op de TV:
1) Twister, ken ik al, te vaak gezien, valt nu dus al af (film)
2) Air America, een of andere idioot welke voor de CIA tussen andere maloten vliegt (film)
3) Scorched, 3 idioten welke tegelijk de bank waar ze werken willen oplichten (film)
4) Top Gear herhaling, (serie)
1) Twister, ken ik al, te vaak gezien, valt nu dus al af (film)
2) Air America, een of andere idioot welke voor de CIA tussen andere maloten vliegt (film)
3) Scorched, 3 idioten welke tegelijk de bank waar ze werken willen oplichten (film)
4) Top Gear herhaling, (serie)
"Do me a favor, try not to think, you're going to hurt yourself"
"You go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company"
"You go to heaven for the climate and hell for the company"
