I AM HIGHLY AMUSED

I AM ALSO

 

Kinda.

Fox WAS hot.

Do you know what I'll never get? Why people who don't like Coldplay join a Coldplay fan forum. :wtf:

FUN AND GAMES I SUPPOSE

I guess.

This thread and the superficial Coldplay fans just made my day.

I know we should ignore these people who dislike Coldplay.

But I can't be myself here :disappointed:

 

I LOVE COLDPLAaeeeyyy :bigcry:

 

/cool beans.

Do you know what I'll never get? Why people who don't like Coldplay join a Coldplay fan forum. :wtf:

 

Maybe because they used to like Coldplay, don't anymore and stay for the community. Ever think of that?

Maybe because they used to like Coldplay, don't anymore and stay for the community. Ever think of that?

 

I did, but they had to have liked them at some point. So why make fun of them?

 

And besides, people with a username like the guy that made this thread obviously didn't come here as a Coldplay fan.

Eh that guy's kinda weird true

What in the sam hell? I go about minding my own business, pumping iron, pumping chicks, and googling for myself to see what my many female conquests have been saying about me, and then I stumble on an old thread that died a whole year ago, but now is all dredged up again with people talking shit about Brian Parmesan! Why, when folk complain so much about haters round these parts, do they drag up some old news and raise it up for new discussion? Why can’t a man go about his own business without getting newly frowned-upon by newly het-up chicks? Do you read old newspapers like from the 1930s and get all outraged at the shit that happens? What the hell’s wrong with you?

 

Well, I hope you’re all well, ‘cause I sure as shit ain’t been. Remember my tale from a year ago? Well, that Coldplay-listening fag who expelled his air onto me from his behind put me in a worse state than I ever could’ve imagined. That hospital situation that I described to you back then was only the beginning. He farted me into unconsciousness that day, but the particular and immediate effects subsided pretty soon. After a week, I rode on home, and I was fine and dandy for a little while. But then I noticed symptoms. Long-drawn-out symptoms. And it was the beginning of a slow decline for me. My condition worsened until finally, I was dragged back to the hospital by my mother, Irene, and she complained loud and hollerin’ to all the doctors that I had the same ill effects as before.

 

Now, Dr. Barney Cumpston is a good man. He’s been our family physician for generations. He examined my buttocks that day, and my wrists, and my thighs. Every part of me. He lifted my testes up and felt around good in that li’l sweaty bridge area behind, that spot where the ladies have their thing. Nothin’ doin’ there. They did me a goddamn cat-scan for my head and then some gay-ass therapist from Europe or some place asked me about my childhood. Nothing doin’ in any of those places and I could’ve told ‘em that already. Finally, the good doctor examined my teeth. He looked in long and hard and then he pulled out some tiny object with a pair of silver tweezers.

 

He examined it closely and then, with a big breath, he said I got the big C.

 

Damn.

 

Cancer, I thought and I whispered it all fearful like, but “no, sir, you don’t have that particular illness”, the doctor said in his rich and comforting baritone. Well, I scratched my head and looked all befuddled while the doctor took his seat, looking all kindly and wise and quietly pleased with himself for knowing the answer. But Irene, my ma, jumped in then all alarmed and quizzical and interrupted him, asking ‘well, what is it, doc’, and he replied then that I had a bad case of the Coldplayitis. Well, it seems that Coldplay-lovin’ fag who bent down and blew that lyrical air at me must’ve sprayed some solid inadvertently, because stuck between my teeth was a little, brown nugget that I’d been licking and mixing with my food for about three goddamn months!

 

Well, the doctor rolled out that nugget, smudging it along his finger, then he examined it under a microscope. He read aloud what he could see.

 

“Confidence in you,

Is confidence in me,

Is confidence I high speed

 

Can anybody stop this thing?

Before my head explodes,

Before my head starts to ring?”

 

Goddamn, I was fuming to hear that! Those were the very same words that felled me that day. That’s okay in short doses, but no reasonable man can take such guff for a prolonged period. Consider my symptoms here, dudettes. My brain was all fried and my general health had taken a severe and long-term knock; my stomach had turned all yellow, I was bald on my head, flaccid in my underwear and I had wild and stupid delusions of godhood, like I was some crazy seer or something. For six weeks, I wore a robe around the house like a strung-out homeless guy, uttering profound but meaningless sentences like I knew some shit that others didn’t. And then to top it all off, three musically competent but unimaginitive non-entities kept coming to my house with their instruments and tried to play their music around my words. They said we’d be famous, like that band, Coldplay. But then, my brother Harvey came back from I-raq and kicked them all out hard onto the street. Harvey fixed me up good. He slapped me round the head every hour, gave me beer to drink, fags to wail on and strapped some headphones on me with a constant diet of Kid Rock and Bon Jovi. And finally, he got Shirelle and Bambi from the strip joint on Main to visit us and I got lap-danced in regular rotation until I was up and fighting and showing those ladies a real good time.

 

And that’s what happened.

 

Now, Viva Child, I sense some hostility from you, though perhaps I’m misreading your post. But damn, girl, are you even a compatriot of mine? I see the flag on your profile there, but do you really live in the good ol’ US of A or what? And if so, why are you salivating over a bunch of skinny-ass limeys when we’re practically on a goddamn war footing? I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, but ‘Great’ Britain, under the guise of ‘British Petroleum’, is busy pumping their commie, possibly homosexual, oil onto our great coastline, hurting our birds and depriving us of fine gasoline that we could use for our automobiles. Let’s hope our blue-ass democrat of a president can finally prove he’s a true American and has the balls to start shooting up some o’ the limeys’ assets, starting with freakin’ Coldplay. Besides, girl, you ain’t immune to the Brian Parmesan Effect. I say to look me up. You come runnin’, all searchin’ and googlin’ and getting all excited at the goddamn alpha-male runnin’ around in your midst. But I understand this phenomenon all too well. You probably know some guys in your hood and they’re all limp and faggy and shit and they listen to Coldplay and you must be a touch bitter about your situation. Now, there’re too many chicks with that kinda problem and I aim to correct this world as much as possible, but don’t go getting your hopes up. You couldn’t handle Brian Parmesan.

 

But note here, speculators, that I never cared for no goddamn Coldplay. Nor do I care for the other tools who may be pollutin’ your boards. Fans or haters, they’re all ripe for wailing on, all fine targets for the fists of Brian Parmesan. And I’m a guy with brains, see, but I ain’t got time to be reading no fool Plato. A punch from Brian Parmesan is worth the weight of a thousand philosophy books. I’ll re-draw the soul of the world in my own sweet way. (And Thalia babe I’m here with a rose ‘tween my teeth for you, hon, been scrawling my poetry to you all over the mounds of bodies of Coldplay-lovin’ fags that have met their end through contact with me, with Brian Parmesan). No, my friends, I came here only because Coldplay offends me. I had to tell my story. Now, let me go about my business.

Holy SHIT Brian's back!!

 

I missed you so much my highly articulate and intriguingly hero! *takes flower out off his mouth and holds it happily in her hands* :cheesy:

Your stories always captivate me. I hope you're not suffering that bad from this horrible disease and get well soon! :(

This thread seriously made me laugh. :lol:

 

"Sometimes, when I expound my utterings in song form, I topple around on the podium"