Originally posted by AikoBowmann, dear master of smartasssedness,
Send him a mushy poem first. Or better, post it here.
Why do you come here, if not to play chess,
Why won't you play me in a private match,
Give me the pleasure to speak of my snatch,
While your pieces do find a place on the bench,
And you curse me loudly, then call me a wench.
It'd pleasure me so to get you on the board,
To strip you down naked, after your king I've scored.
Leaving you wretchedly wrecked in despair,
To run back to forums for a quick repair
To your ego that feeds on those recs so damm sweet,
Those recs that you cherish, that harden your meat.
Originally posted by SJ247You are Dr. Seuss !!!
Bowmann, dear master of smartasssedness,
Why do you come here, if not to play chess,
Why won't you play me in a private match,
Give me the pleasure to speak of my snatch,
While your pieces do find a place on the bench,
And you curse me loudly, then call me a wench.
It'd pleasure me so to get you on the board,
To strip you down naked, after your king I'v ...[text shortened]... that feeds on those recs so damm sweet,
Those recs that you cherish, that harden your meat.