Forum Game : The Last Word

*looks on the bright side*

hmmmm...works for me.

This thread doesn't have enough drama.

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

How 'bout some Euripides?

GREAT among men, and not unnamed am I,
The Cyprian, in God’s inmost halls on high.
And wheresoe’er from Pontus to the far
Red West men dwell, and see the glad day-star,
And worship Me, the pious heart I bless,
And wreck that life that lives in stubbornness.
For that there is, even in a great God’s mind,
That hungereth for the praise of human kind.
So runs my word; and soon the very deed
Shall follow. For this Prince of Theseus’ seed,
Hippolytus, child of that dead Amazon,
And reared by saintly Pittheus in his own
Strait ways, bath dared, alone of all Trozên,
To hold me least of spirits and most mean,
And spurns my spell and seeks no woman’s kiss.

Learn something new every day.

now that we have some drama its time for stupidity,

Dee dee Dee

Awwwwwwws.... but the thread has been ripe with stupidity since day 1..

Nonono.. what this thread lacks.. is PIE!

SWEET GLORIOUS DELECIOUS PIE
(desu pie is fine too.)

Clearly you haven't bothered to read this thread before posting. Pie is in abundance throughout this thread, though I suppose there has been a deficiency of sorts for the last few weeks.

Pi r squared?

Nah. So far it's all been the round variety.

Meh, screw PI, PHI is where it's at!

After all, Mother Nature can't be wrong.

No, actually, pie are round.

Sheesh.

PHI, called so because its one H of a lot cooler than PI!


But not cooler than pie. Nothing is cooler than pie.

I just have to say, I hate having to use the library's computer. Oh well, I'll be back on in full force soon enough

I don't see anyone holding a gun to your head.

That's because they are being careful to stand off camera.

All I have to say is this:

Blah!

eh.

Huh?

Exactly.

Who?

say wha?