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Evening Reading

by Maarten Goldstein, Mar 20, 2002 5:37pm PST
Related Topics – Wack News

So as you might've noticed our page header has changed a little bit. We had to due to larger ads you're gonna see here soon. It's needed to keep this site alive, and hey, at least there won't be popups. We'll still have 468x60 banners, but they'll only be at the top of the page instead of two locations. Those Homepage/Bookmark buttons are IE only, if anyone knows of a way to make it work for Opera and Netscape, please let me know.

- Now this is the geeky story of the day. The laser keyboard. I want one! - Eh oh, Morpheus is tracking your site visits. Thanks Stelth. - Can't have an ER without a testicle attack story. - And we can't miss another Glitter story either. Thanks Cygnus X-1. - A story to make dognose happy, dogs can now have pacemakers as well.
Lastly, it's the penis museum.














  • #3000 --> http://www.shacknews.com/funk.y?id=3263862

    Two IE windows make this sorta easy, if boring. Mistakes are always possible!

    I wonder if Klerck's waiting in the wings.

    Joke: Last act of love

    An elderly man lay dying in his bed. In death's final agony, as he started to slip away, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the
    wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort forced himself down the stairs.Gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs defying the pull of Morpheus. With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.

    Were it not for the immense pain caused by his extreme exertions, he would have thought himself already in heaven for there spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table - were hundreds of his favourite chocolate chip cookies. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of
    heroic love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man? Mustering one great final effort, with tears in his eyes, he threw himself toward the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture.

    His parched lips parted: the wondrous taste of the sweet biscuit was already mentally in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.He felt renewed strength pulsate through his body. The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to one lone biscuit at the edge of
    the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by
    his wife......

    "Fuck off, " she said, "they're for the funeral."