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Messages - MelloYelloClock

#322
You know what? I'm tired of you. Goto hell.
#323
Mrs. McGruder's House / LAWL
November 01, 2005, 08:11:41 PM
Clock Crew BBS > Davey Jones' Wardrobe > lol u guys are so nerd  
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 Welcome, MelloYelloClock.
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 Today, 07:49 PM    #201  
♥radio tube
high tech
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yay, we just topped 200 posts. lets keep going
     
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 Today, 07:51 PM    #202  
TrickyClock
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And I made it to 200, I am just damn great =)
     
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 Today, 07:52 PM    #203  
♥radio tube
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these spam threads are the greatest  
     
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 Today, 07:52 PM    View your Warnings   #204  
MelloYelloClock

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  I remember  

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I remember when this smilie(  ) went out of CC style.
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 Today, 07:53 PM    #205  
TrickyClock
1337z0r Clockz0r
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Quote:
Originally Posted by radio tube
these spam threads are the greatest  




Indeed radio, indeed... They're just so damn hot!!111  
     
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 Today, 07:54 PM    #206  
HypercubeClock
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Quote:
Originally Posted by MelloYelloClock
I remember when this smilie(  ) went out of CC style.


It's time for a RETRO COMEBACK!!!11!
           
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Quote:
Originally Posted by CorpseGrinderClock
I'd have to say it's not hard to be a clock. Bieng a worthwile clock, well, that's a lot harder
 
     
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 Today, 07:54 PM    #207  
♥radio tube
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            oh yeah
     
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 Today, 07:56 PM    #208  
HypercubeClock
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COME ON EVERYBODY! IT'S TIME FOR A COMEBACK!!!1!
     
POST TEH ROCKERS!!11!
           
W00T TEH ROCKERS ARE TEH 1337 J00 N00Bs!!!1!
 

























Okay, I'm done now.
     
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 Today, 07:57 PM    #209  
TrickyClock
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 Today, 07:57 PM    #210  
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omg teh noob rockerz          
     
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 Today, 07:58 PM    #211  
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 Today, 08:00 PM    #212  
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attack of the animating emoticons
     
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 Today, 08:03 PM    #213  
TrickyClock
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=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(S=d8sdsdfruigtigttgihjyjhy0ijhyjih yijohyjyhjhyjhyijohyijohyyhjihyhjyoijhioyjh7io6jhi 67ojhi67jiho6j7oi76hji67ojhi76jhio67jiho76jiohj76o ihji67ojhi76ojh67ijhi7o6h767i6i67i67ii7676i76i
     
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 Today, 08:03 PM    #214  
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Quote:
Originally Posted by TrickyClock
=(=(=(=(=(=(=(=(S=d8sdsdfruigtigttgihjyjhy0ijhyjih yijohyjyhjhyjhyijohyijohyyhjihyhjyoijhioyjh7io6jhi 67ojhi67jiho6j7oi76hji67ojhi76jhio67jiho76jiohj76o ihji67ojhi76ojh67ijhi7o6h767i6i67i67ii7676i76i



quoted for no reason
     
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 Today, 08:08 PM    #215  
TrickyClock
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Quote:
Originally Posted by radio tube
quoted for no reason


You too lol.
     
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 Today, 08:08 PM    #216  
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lol
     
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 Today, 08:08 PM    #217  
AlbinoClock
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oh
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FLA(2004) FLA(MX)  
     
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 Today, 08:09 PM    View your Warnings   #218  
MelloYelloClock

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#324
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#325
Mrs. McGruder's House / I remember
November 01, 2005, 07:52:47 PM
I remember when this smilie( :rockin: ) went out of CC style.
#326
Where is sherclock holmes when you need him. :sherlock:
#327
Quote from: HypercubeClockThere isn't a difference between stupidity and spam, is there?

You are sentenced to 40 years in clocktopia prison.  :judge:
#328
LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower, as a signal light, --
One, if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country-folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison-bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street
Wanders and watches with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry-chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the somber rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade, --
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night-encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay, --
A line of black, that bends and floats
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now gazed on the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry-tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and somber and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns!

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet:
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock,
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When be came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadows brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket-ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read,
How the British regulars fired and fled, --
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm, --
A cry of defiance and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beat of that steed,
And the midnight-message of Paul Revere.


Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1860
#329
Quote from: PirateClockhow do you know all this isn't a dream and you coverd in pudding actually is reality wich you briefly awoken from.

This happens every time. It was CHOCOLATE PUDDING. Not splooge. I get this in school because I have tooth paste on my lips.
I am not gay, so just lay off.
#330
Mrs. McGruder's House / dream
November 01, 2005, 06:26:24 PM
I had a dream I was drowning in pudding.
#331
quick links.

When Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat to a white man forty years ago on December 1, 1955, she was tired and weary from a long day of work.


At least that's how the event has been retold countless times and recorded in our history books. But, there's a misconception here that does not do justice to the woman whose act of courage began turning the wheels of the civil rights movement on that fateful day.


Rosa Parks was physically tired, but no more than you or I after a long day's work. In fact, under other circumstances, she would have probably given up her seat willingly to a child or elderly person. But this time Parks was tired of the treatment she and other African Americans received every day of their lives, what with the racism, segregation, and Jim Crow laws of the time.


"Our mistreatment was just not right, and I was tired of it," writes Parks in her recent book, Quiet Strength, (ZondervanPublishingHouse, 1994). "I kept thinking about my mother and my grandparents, and how strong they were. I knew there was a possibility of being mistreated, but an opportunity was being given to me to do what I had asked of others."


The rest of Parks' story is American history...her arrest and trial, a 381-day Montgomery bus boycott, and, finally, the Supreme Court's ruling in November 1956 that segregation on transportation is unconstitutional.


But Parks' personal history has been lost in the retelling. Prior to her arrest, Mrs. Parks had a firm and quiet strength to change things that were unjust. She served as secretary of the NAACP and later Adviser to the NAACP Youth Council, and tried to register to vote on several occasions when it was still nearly impossible to do so. She had run-ins with bus drivers and was evicted from buses. Parks recalls the humiliation: "I didn't want to pay my fare and then go around the back door, because many times, even if you did that, you might not get on the bus at all. They'd probably shut the door, drive off, and leave you standing there."


Forty years later, despite some tremendous gains, Parks feels, "we still have a long way to go in improving the race relations in this country."


Rosa Parks spends most of her year in Detroit but winters in Los Angeles. Her day is filled with reading mail,-"from students, politicians, and just regular people"-preparing meals, going to church, and visiting people in hospitals. She is still active in fighting racial injustices, now standing up for what she believes in and sharing her message with others. She and other members of the Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self-Development have a special program called Pathways to Freedom, for young people age 11-18. Children in the program travel across the country tracing the Underground Railroad, visiting the scenes of critical events in the civil rights movement and learning aspects of America's history.


Says Elaine Steele, Parks' close friend and cofounder of the Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self-Development, "Mrs. Parks is a role model that these students look up to, and they feel very honored and privileged to be in her company. And she's very gracious to accompany the students to these activities."


February, Black History Month, seemed a relevant time to evaluate youth and their sense of history. But Parks thinks bigger and broader. "We don't have enough young people who are concerned and who are exposed to the civil rights movement, and I would like to see more exposure and get their interest," she says, pausing to reflect, "but I think it should just be history, period, and not thinking in terms of only Black History Month."


Parks is quiet, soft-spoken, and diplomatic. But she is firm in her belief that enough people will have the courage and dedication to make this country better than it is. "And this young man that's taking over the NAACP, Kweisi Mfume, I admire him a great deal," she adds. About Louis Farrakhan, the leader of the Black Muslims, she says, "Well, I don't know him personally, but I think it was great that he spearheaded the million man march."


Parks has met many renowned leaders and has traveled throughout the world receiving honors and awards for her efforts toward racial harmony. She is appreciative and honored by them but exhibits little emotion over whom she has met or what she has done. Her response to being called "the Mother of the Civil Rights Movement" is modest. "If people think of me in that way, I just accept the honor and appreciate it," she says. In Quiet Strength, however, Parks is careful to explain that she did not change things alone. "Four decades later I am still uncomfortable with the credit given to me for starting the bus boycott. I would like [people] to know I was not the only person involved. I was just one of many who fought for freedom."

In August 1994, Parks was attacked in her home by a young man who wanted money from her. Of the event, she writes, "I pray for this young man and the conditions in our country that have made him this way. Despite the violence and crime in our society, we should not let fear overwhelm us. We must remain strong."


Parks' belief in God and her religious convictions are at the core of everything she does. It is the overriding theme in her book and the message she hopes to impart: "I'd like for [readers] to know that I had a very spiritual background and that I believe in church and my faith and that has helped to give me the strength and courage to live as I did."
#332
Comedy Goldmine / ehh, im not all for pictures
September 10, 2005, 01:30:52 AM
I don't like pictures  :o
here i am

#333
General Discussion / VOTE FIVE CLOCKLINGS
August 20, 2005, 02:10:01 PM
tat was Grand! :fifen: