The Sancho And Juicehead666 Random Chat Thread!

LOL no he woke up about 2 hours later, went to the washroom and we all snickered and went quiet. aboot 2 minutes later we heard "WHAT THE FUCK YOU COCKSUCKERS!"

he came out and someone said "hey Howard someone just called you, did you hear them?"

 

yeah I'm not in the tourney anymore. just @ a table. how many chips you got? sit down, I'll give you 100,000 chips.

 

ROFL ... priceless response!

 

Stephen King - The Gunslinger, for the third time.
Fucking good book that is !

 

LOL yeah that was fucking funny. took him about 30 minutes to wash it off.

 

excellent! have read it a few times myself. thankee sai.

 

his face must have been rubbed raw by then ..... LOL

 

just watching some Criss Angel Mindfreak.

 

The Man in Black fled through the dessert, and the gunslinger followed him :mrgreen:

 

i've got no chips inuk, never played, signed up once just to see the action, no deposits made.

 

don't get me started on that guy... I hate him!

 

it was pretty funny man!

 

any phun members that need chips just let me know, I'll look you up.

I gave Ray 100K.

must have given away 1.5 million play chips. I have 3 million play chips.

 

I love his up close magic skills, but hate him.

 

The wind, except for occasional gyrating dust-devils, was constant.

 

he's a self-obsessed douche bag, Blaine's street magic is far superior imo!

 

well, I'm phunlostboys out there. hook me up and we will go at it.

 

later there LB!

 

The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what might have been parsecs in all directions. White; blinding; waterless; without feature save for the faint, cloudy haze of the mountains which sketched themselves on the horizon and the devil-grass which brought sweet dreams, nightmares, death. An occasional tombstone sign pointed the way, for once the drifted track that cut its way through the thick crust of alkali had been a highway and coaches had followed it. The world had moved on since then. The world had emptied.
The gunslinger walked stolidly, not hurrying, not loafing. A hide waterbag was slung around his middle like a bloated sausage. It was almost full. He had progressed through the khef over many years, and had reached the fifth level. At the seventh or eighth, he would not have been thirsty; he could have watched own body dehydrate with clinical, detached attention, watering its crevices and dark inner hollows only when his logic told him it must be done. He was not seventh or eighth. He was fifth. So he was thirsty, although he had no particular urge to drink. In a vague way, all this pleased him. It was romantic.

 

woohooo! just won 65K with a full house!

sat down with 25K