T'is the hour of the dawning of a VICTORIAN DISCOURSE, Vol. THRICE

Originally Posted by potus2028

Ah! Indeed, twas many a moon since last I encountered a thread such as this! Good morrow, men! How doth the Sabbath fand thee? I am currently ingesting a preparation of entheogen leaves whilst awaiting the sporting game betwixt the Cowboy Clan of Dallaschester and the Swashbucklers of Tampadale....
Thou hast twiddled thoughts o' thine Brownsingtons of Clevelandeth. Gracious be thy, as prayers intertwine thoust hopes o' intercourse.
 
Originally Posted by KAM WINSTON

Why do I imagine a lute being strummed as I read these replies?

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Originally Posted by iBlink


Why, I dare say, thou art wondereth whenst such thread shall reareth thine ugly head.

Gentlemen, gather round as I embark on a tragic of tales whichth involveth my thwarted attempt to covet the female my liking.

Twas twice days of old when I squired said young lady towardst the moors of yonder. Her well endowed boosom left a ting in my nickers. One might say I was aching to pummeleth her nether regions with the intensity of a thousand Excaliburs. Whenst I moved in to slay the beast, she informed me that she'd been visited by her wrentched aunt flow. Needless to say, I saddled my steed and rode off into the night, leaving the wench downst at the river with high hopes that a sorcerer might stumble upon her and damn her darkend soul to the pits of hell.
Thou tale hath brought flow from mine eyes.

I will sayeth, thou art commended for thy resistance to carnal instinct. For twas I in thine nickers, my pocketed lad Jimmyeth would have donned mine saber,and mine power to smash would hath rivaled Allah!

Upon reflection, I must sayeth, I art most savage.
 
I doth conclude, that all who harbor fear of glorious victorian discourse art timid, frail, and docile homosexuals.
 
þeodcyninga þrym gefrunon,
hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon!
oft Scyld Scefing sceaþena þreatum,
monegum mægþum meodosetla ofteah,
egsode eorlas, syððanærest wearð
feasceaft funden; he þæs frofre gebad,
weox under wolcnum weorðmyndum þah,
oð þæt him æghwylc ymbsittendra
ofer hronrade hyran scolde,
gomban gyldan; þæt wæs god cyning!
 
the replies posteth upon ye olde board of messages doth caused me to expell a hearty chuckle from the depth of my belly.

good show.
 
oh how doth i overlook thee thread of discourse amongst such distinguished gentlemen!!
 
The sun rises and bathes my mahogany-hued face in its benevolent glow...alas, but only this were not the harbinger of the time 4 work-going...therein lies therub...however, I daresay, how doth the morning find you?
 
Alas, here be the wretch of a woman thine has currently invested thine heart to.

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One might dare say, Lord Blinketh likes his women with the extra robust.
 
Bah! I much prefer those females who posess the caramelled complexion like that of hybrid Moors, and ample of chest...indeed so ample that I of the large handsmay struggle mightily 2 palm such a bless'd teat...this, THIS my friends, is the defintion of pulchritude!
 
Dear brethren. Thine angst tis displayed cordially. A fair lady she was, however, remorse succumbed thine prowess. Till forthcoming history class, thou heartshall flutter, and in turn, cloud thine brain stems with anxiety. She will be thoust, oh, she will be thoust.
 
This has to be one of the funniest threads i've read in months...im dyin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Originally Posted by LeroyTheGreat38


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The arrows of the thine great admins shall striketh thee with such prevalent force....thou shall be removed from the talk of Nike if such diction is not
 
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