7/24/2008 11:22:53 PM

[old]
Everclear

perfect shiny and new

7/24/2008 11:23:40 PM

bad memories come to mind

7/24/2008 11:24:16 PM

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

7/24/2008 11:24:17 PM

god everclear (the band) sucks.

7/24/2008 11:25:06 PM

meh

there's MUCH better shit to drink when your main concern isn't getting plastered...

7/24/2008 11:25:13 PM

where my flowers can bloom?

7/24/2008 11:28:40 PM

this is an ex song

FTL

(have fun with the sauce tho)

7/24/2008 11:29:35 PM

An AIDS garden?

7/24/2008 11:40:31 PM

oh lawd

7/24/2008 11:42:16 PM

PJ?

7/25/2008 12:19:13 AM

BJ?

7/25/2008 1:01:22 AM

ZJ?

7/25/2008 1:03:19 AM

If you have to ask what a ZJ is

7/25/2008 1:09:35 AM

Quote :

"How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays; And their uncessant labors see Crowned from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow-vergèd shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all the flowers and trees do close To weave the garlands of repose. Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear! Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men: Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow; Society is all but rude, To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen So amorous as this lovely green; Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress' name. Little, alas, they know or heed, How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! wheresoe'er your barks I wound No name shall but your own be found. When we have run our passion's heat, Love hither makes his best retreat: The gods who mortal beauty chase, Still in a tree did end their race. Apollo hunted Daphne so, Only that she might laurel grow, And Pan did after Syrinx speed, Not as a nymph, but for a reed. What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons as I pass, Insnared with flowers, I fall on grass. Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness: The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find; Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that's made To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide: There like a bird it sits and sings, Then whets and combs its silver wings; And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light. Such was that happy garden-state, While man there walked without a mate: After a place so pure and sweet, What other help could yet be meet! But 'twas beyond a mortal's share To wander solitary there: Two paradises 'twere in one To live in Paradise alone. How well the skillful gard'ner drew Of flowers and herbs this dial new; Where from above the milder sun Does through a fragrant zodiac run; And, as it works, th' industrious bee Computes its time as well as we. How could such sweet and wholesome hours Be reckoned but with herbs and flowers!"

7/25/2008 1:09:36 AM

I JUST WANNA SEE SOME

PAAAAAAAAAALM TREES

7/25/2008 1:16:21 AM

^don't start that shit

7/25/2008 2:48:24 AM