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| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| Aged |
Posted - Nov 25 2002 : 10:47:45
Aged's transport had begun its docking sequence with the orbital base. He had been "summoned" by Arcane to come inspect Arcane's latest project. Despite all of Aged's objections, Arcane had insisted that Aged come in person - he'd even sprung for the transport fare.
As Aged waited for the planetary lift, he checked his message pad - yep, he was still broke. What had happened? That question still haunted him - how had he managed to blow every C-bill he had? Aged stepped onto the lift car and began the descent planetside. What was so important that Arcane had sent for him?
Planetside, Arcane greeted him and the two old friends boarded a ground shuttle. They chatted idly for a bit, Arcane trying to be supportive of Aged's financial woes, but he refused to reveal the purpose of this visit - for now. The shuttle crested a hill and a huge factory began to come into view. Aged gave Arcane a quizzical look and Arcane nodded.
Once inside the factory, Arcane led Aged into a huge hangar and there it was - a beautiful new dropship, with the name "Geriatica II" emblazened on it's side.
"Nice! Does it have magnetic gyro bearings?"
Arcane nodded, smiling...
"Does this mean you plan to get us back in business?"
"Yes it does."
"Cool, but we'll need some mechs too. Where do you plan to get them?"
"Oh, I've already managed to acquire a few. Come see. I've got one in particular I want you to see."
They left the hangar and headed down a long hallway until they came to a door labled "Mechbay 1".
"Mechbay 1?"
Arcane smiled, "Yes, I've got 3 of them. One for lights, mediums and heavies. One for assaults. And one for experimentals and weapons system testing. This is the one for experimentals and weapons system testing."
They entered Mechbay 1 and there before them, stood a Bushwhacker in giraffe camo with Aged's coat of arms on the legs and Aged's "special friend" painted on the nose.
"What's this?"
Arcane, smiled and handed Aged a neuro-helmet, "Hop in and give her a try. There's a surprise for you in there that I think you'll like a lot."
Aged, still shocked at what he saw, grabbed the neuro-helmet and climbed the scaffold to the Bushwhacker's cockpit. He paused a moment to give "Dawn" a pat as he always did. He told people it was for luck, but actually he just liked getting a nice close up view. Once inside, he fired up the engine as a huge door opened to one side of Mechbay 1.
Arcane came over the coms channel. "Take her out to the practice field and give her a weapons test."
Aged shoved the throttle full forward and guided the Bushwhacker out the door at full speed. Arcane just shock his head. Old habbits die hard, he thought.
As the Bushwhacker entered the practice field and came into the sunlight, the canopy darkened a bit and Aged noticed some target drones far off in the distance.
"Target those drones with weapons system 1 and fire away!"
Aged swung the nose of the Bushwhacker around and brought one of the drones under the targetting reticle. As it went red, he squeezed trigger 1 and the Bushwhacker quivered with the recoil of the guns. A loud sound came through the neuro-helmet like that of a huge buzzsaw and Aged felt a tingling sensation between his legs.
"Ooooh baby!!!!!! I like that!!! What the heck did I just fire?"
"You like that?"
"Oh yeah"
"I thought you would. That's a new RAC gun. Nice, huh?"
"Wow! I think I'm in love."
"Check out your target."
"What target?"
"Exactly."
Aged swung the nose of the Bushwhacker around to target the nest drone and gave the trigger a good hard squeeze. The tingly sensation between his legs was wonderful and Aged just couldn't let go. After a few seconds the guns jammed.
"Hey!"
"Oh you can't keep it full on for very long or it jams."
"Couldn't you just fit a liquid nitrogen system on it?"
"Sorry, there wasn't enough room - unless we took out the extra ammo slots, and I didn't think you'd want that."
"No, you're right. So, you just have to kind of baby it a little, huh?"
"Yeah, just give it a burst and wait a second or two. It cools down again pretty quickly. The air coolers aren't bad, actually."
"I could get to like this, but I can't afford it, I'm sure."
"Well, maybe you could earn it. I didn't build that dropship just for show, you know."
"Huh?"
"I'm trying to get the OMO back in business again. You interested?"
"Sure. That gun is enough to get me to give up women and drinking."
Aged had found a new love...
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| 20 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| Eccentric-OMO |
Posted - Jun 15 2003 : 11:11:40
To: All OMO
From: Eccentric
Location: OMS Geriatrica
Subject: Drop your brews, and grab your crews
Distribution: via ComStar Main and subnet Channels
***Encrypted message follows***
***Stand by for Decryption
***Load *.*,8,1
***Loading...
***Decryption in Progress...
***Displaying decrypted Message...
***Message as Follows:
Hey you old flighty bastages - thanks for disappearing on me, and leaving me stuck with all this mess to handle. You will all find tokens of my appreciation stashed somewhere among your personal belongings.
Listen - why you guys are out lounging around, getting drunk, and chasing tail, you can thank me for staying behind and minding the shop. Anyway - rumour among some of my special contacts is that a rogue group has begun production again of some old favorite, but discontinued chassis - as well as some new weapons they have been developing. At this point, the rumours remain unconfirmed (hence this just being a stand-by), but there is a high degree of confidence that something big is definately in the works.
I figure that we will probably want to get the jump on this and get our hands on some of this tech. We definately won't want some of our "friends" (like Wolferine Solutions) getting the first grab on this stuff and putting it into play before we get the chance to analize it. I'll continue to monitor the subnets, and provide more info as it becomes available. So if you guys could tie a knot in it, and start the long process of sobering up enough to be able to walk and breathe at the same time, ya might want to figure out where your blackouts have deposited you, start getting your gear out of the pawn shops and bars where you've traded them off, and plan your way back to the ship.
***End Encrypted Message***
***Message re-encrypting for secure storage.
***Send reply? (Y/N) |
| Eccentric-OMO |
Posted - Jun 15 2003 : 10:52:37
Eccentric sat in the office of Easy Eddie's Payday Loan and Title Pawn, sorting through all the paperwork he needed in order to pawn off the Geriatrica. As he worked his way through all the paperwork, cursing to himself aboutbot the paperwork and the OMO's disappearnace..."Freakin' inspection papers...emissions tests...damn bastages still haven't paid me, and just dump the ship on me to take care of while they..."
*chirp* His comm implant chimed. "What the..."
Eccentric realized that in his boredom, he had set the ship's comms computer to monitor the news feeds for anything interesting - and to alert him when anything of potentially great importance to the OMOs was noticed on the ComStar news feeds.
"Uhhh...I forgot a few of the forms I'll need for ya, Eddie. I'll be back in a bit with everything finished off..."
Rushing back out to his HumVee, Eccentric gunned the engine and raced back across the spaceport. Well, ok - it wasn't really *his* HumVee - but he was sure that Easy Eddie wouldn't mind too badly, considering all the money he was about to make off this deal.
"Ok, computer, " he said when he reached the comms room, "What do you have for me. This better be good, you rusted out old..." the words died in his throat as he sank heavily into the nearest chair, mouth gaping in awe.
Furiously drafting, then encoding a message to be put out on the public nets, where hopefully the other OMOs would stumble across it, Eccentric announced the stand-by for a general recall.
"Business is about to pick back up, boys" he said. "Word on ComStar is that there may jut be some new production runs of some old chassis favorites, as well as some new weapons in the works that we need to get the jump on obtaining..." |
| Aged |
Posted - Jun 14 2003 : 22:38:26
"Would you stop hovering over me!?!?", the tech complained. "You're blocking my light! I'll never get this thing fixed if you don't leave me alone!"
"Did I tell you about swapping the sound system?", asked Aged impatiently.
"Yes, about a dozen times."
"And, what about the reactor? I read that the model I'm running may not have enough oomph to get the job done."
"Yes, I know to check the reactor."
Aged paced about the hangar.
"Look, if you can't fix it to where it's running up to spec, I need to know. I mean, C-bills are no object." Aged lied, "I need this thing to run fast and shoot straight."
The tech shook his head and went back to work.
Aged continued, "Uhh, but if you need to rebuild it make sure you contact me on my private comms. I don't want anyone to know what I've done."
Aged really just didn't want to paymaster to audit his accounts. He'd been transferring C-bills into his account quietly ever since Petri cleaned him out (with Arcane's blessing). He knew nobody would ever think that 2 wrongs made a right.
"Hey, you'd better stand back a bit. It's about to get a little loud.", shouted the tech. He'd figured on doing this part of the diagnostics later, but Aged's persistent "advice" was driving him nuts. Sliding his noise mufflers over his ears, he started gunning the ventilation system.
"I'll just be over here...", shouted Aged.
The tech was oblivious.
Aged continued to pace just outside the hangar. "I can't believe this. It's been weeks since I've seen any action. This has got to work.", thought Aged. |
| Eccentric-OMO |
Posted - Jun 14 2003 : 06:19:20
Frustrated and bored, Eccentric wandered the empty passageways of the Geriatrica.
When he first joined up with these guys, things seemed pretty enjoyable - between Festus and Aged, they always seemed to be getting the group into one mess or another - usually resulting in the need for some combat. Then one day, they all went for their accustomed afternoon nap - and they had all disappeared, leaving Eccentric alone with the ship and the mechs.
At first he enjoyed the solitude - taking the opportunity to peruse through the lockers and cabins of his teammates, getting to know them a little better. Tiring of this, he began tinkering in the mechlab, seeing how he could tweak and refine some of the primary battle mechs. Then, out of sheer boredom as time wore on and on, he actually began *cleaning* the Geriatrica.
Eccentric's patience was wearing thin (as was the pilfered supply of booze that the OMOs had left behind - except for that "Canadian Brewski" stuff he had found stashed away - that stuff just wasn't fit for human consumption!) As the days and weeks wore on, he picked up a little "side action" with a group of renegade recon pilots who, wanting more action that nust "spot and run" had taken thier light mechs and formed a renegade unit known as "the Light Brigade," and operating as a wolfpack to take down some of those overconfident assault and poptart drivers (Eccentric really hates poptarts, in case he never mentioned it.)
Sighing, as he realized that he had finished off the last of the booze on the ship (except for that "Canadian Brewski" crap) and began seriously contemplating taking the title for the Geriacrica over to Easy Eddie's Check Cashing and Title Loan so he could buy a bit more booze to occupy himself while he waited.... |
| Aged |
Posted - May 28 2003 : 16:56:10
As the milky whiteness of unconscientiousness began to give way, the burly figure of Festus in a white lab coat began to appear before Aged's eyes. Instinctively Aged's arms moved wildly about between himself and Festus. "No way am I going to let the spoon cut me!", he thought. Aged began lining up all of the profanity he was going to use just as soon as he regained enough control to speak. "^%$#, *#^%@, *$%@#%!!!! ...", the queue was growing each second.
"Just relax", said Festus. "You've just gone through a nasty ejection. ... Haven't you ever driven an Owens before?"
"Huh?", speech was finally making its way back for Aged.
"Don't you know you have to arm the ejection seat before ejecting? Otherwise it just blasts you right through the canopy. That could bash whatever brains you still have straight down your backbone and out your..."
"What the &%*^ are you talking about?", Aged interupted. "I would never drive one of those swivel-hipped target drones!"
"Uhh, well that's what you were just driving and you were pretty enthusiastic about it too."
"Where's Medi? I don't trust you in that lab coat. And, get the &%^$ off my arms so I can shoot you!!!"
"Yeah right! Like I'm going to let you up.", said Festus. "Oh and Medi's on leave. You're stuck with me since I'm the only one left with any sort of medical training. Deal with it. Just relax and enjoy my gentle bedside manner." A twinkle entered Festus' eye - it always happened whenever he knew he had the upper hand.
"Spoon! Lemme go!!!"
"Retread, come 'ere and grab Aged's sidearm."
"Dude! How'd you like that Owens ride. We made quite a team out there, huh? Wasn't that a blast!!", chuckled Retread.
"You bastard!!! You tricked me. You drugged me or something!!! Or did you just inject me with some of that twisted DNA you've been messing with?"
"I didn't do anything at all. You were drunk. You kept muttering something about how 3 beers gave you just the right edge. ... Next thing, I knew you were yelling at everybody to jump into those Owenses in the spare parts mech bay and go kill some stuff. I told you to wear pants, but you wouldn't hear of it."
Aged lifted the blanket on his stretcher ... "Oh ...", Aged began to wince and shake his head.
"Yeah, next you and me were chasing after an Atlas. Man, you were hootin' and hollarin' like crazy - talking about how great that Owens handled.", explained Retread.
Aged began rubbing his temples. "Would you guys mind leaving the room and turning out the lights? I need to hide for a while."
|
| Aged |
Posted - May 21 2003 : 16:23:04
There it was again! That snarling sound. Aged's eyes darted around the room. "Am I asleep?", he thought to himself. "Can't be, this is too real."
Aged scanned the room for a light switch and found one a few feet away. Sliding with his back to the wall, he quietly made his way to the switch. His hand slid up the wall and turned on the lights.
Suddenly a grotesque creature resembling a cross between a baboon and a whale of some sort jumped at Aged. Recoiling in shock, he slipped on the floor and began frantically back peddling on his butt like a terrfied crab.
"Whoa there big fella!"
"Huh?", thought Aged. "What the heck is going on?"
It was Retread. Aged had heard about him. Long ago he had been a professor of genetics and zoology at a university. Rumor had it that he'd begun experimenting with gene splicing in some very unusual ways. His ways had been unusual to the point of being declared unethical by the university's board of regents and his research was halted. All remaining grant money had been impounded for other "more appropriate" research projects.
The story went that afterward Retread went a little off, vowing to continue his research and taking some of his colleague with him. Together they sold items on the black market and opened up a zoological park. Eventually rumors surfaced that they'd actually made a sucessful full scale gene splicing - some sort of scorpion/coyote mix.
Most people tended to avoid them as being too far off in left field, but one day Retread showed up on Solaris wanting to try his hand at driving a mech. Arcane was in town and suggested he try an old Owens that nobody every wanted to drive. The thought was that the experience would be so bad that Retread would give up in frustration and go back to his little "zoo".
Ah, but what Arcane didn't consider was that he was already dealing with a truly twisted mind. Retread actually liked the Owens! In fact, he could even kill things with it. Repeated attempts to get him in a more worthy chassis failed - he was rooted in that Owens and nothing, no scorpyote or babale would get him out of it. And now, there were suggestions that some of his colleagues were interested in trying their hands at mech driving.
"Hey Aged", said Retread, "don't worry about barney here, I've got him."
"Man, that thing scared the crap out of me."
"Hey, do you know where I might find a mech or two for a test drive?"
"Uh ... You know, I might know where I could lay my hands on a Chimera..." |
| Petrified-OMO |
Posted - May 19 2003 : 19:37:12
Spiff was glad the crowd was leaving, man, was he ever glad to see the lot go. He heard rumors about them before and knew they had a knack for "getting back".
- - - - -
Confused was the last to follow his fellows out the door. He didn't really notice that Spiff barred the door to Jake's Place after he left. All he saw was the whole group staring, gaping, at a truck. A couple, such as Aged and Titanum, grew green and puked before turning towards Petrified with loud and ruccous cursing. 
Confused, still wondering about the little mech walked past it all, and called back to the group over his shoulder: "Hey, I'm heading to 'Antony's Dive'!" With that, Aged ceased trying to make Petrified into a war trophy and perked up: "Ahh, yes... now for some REAL beer."
With that the OMO left down the road for Antony's Dive, leaving behind Jake's Place and the truck from which an unpleasant smell wafted with the simple words: "Joe's Goat Farm" |
| Confused-OMO |
Posted - May 19 2003 : 16:56:07
As the telly shut down for the night confused again shut his eyes and saw the dim glow of the bar looking around to his surprise there were many old men about luckly for confused the pixies had gone but with the small mech rubbing up against his leg he felt comfort.
Reaching for drink the last orders bell rang out across the bar. It cant be a dream it must be real there are no last orders in dream time goodness me. the drink took effect the small mech stopped rubbing against Confused leg and became enraged with passion and mounted the Stool, the Stool had recently been passed by an elderly gentleman who wished his identity to be kept quiet. The heat from the stool and the attention paid by the small mech soon attracted a crowd of flies who gathered well..... like flies on sh.t.
Back to your mech back to your mech the cry came from all gathered in the bar, but by that time it was closing time and all the mechs were taken there was only a rather scruffy Sunder in the corner.
When Confused boarded the Sunder the young Pixie that normally sits in confused armpit suddenly woke up and pointed out that the Sunder was only a Ford Escort and it was time for work.
When will confused get back into a mech when will those horrible but lovely fairie folk go back to their own bar and get out of Confused arm pit hair Who knows not me.
|
| Festus-OMO |
Posted - May 18 2003 : 13:02:24
Festus sat back and smouldered as he Watched Their newest memeber sitting, hogtied to a chair as Petrified pulled his head back and Smellyfart poured some of Fes's precious "Private Stock" down down his gullet.
How in the heck Aged had found it he had no idea, but it was obviosuly time to find a new hidey hole. Actually Festus didn't mind them drinking it, but it really got on his nerves when they used it to remove grease, unplug pipes, and etch metal surfaces.
The cheers of "Welcome!" and "OWO" rang throughout the sim chamber as the newest OMO, Eccentric was initiated into the ranks.
Eccentric, formerly known as DerangedLunaTec, had shown alot of patience as the group put him thru various trials. First was the, "WHO THE HECK IS POSTING ON OUR BOARDS" test.
Then the "IGNORE HIM, HE WILL GO AWAY TEST". Followed by the,usually very effective, "LET HIM PLAY AND TALK TO HIPSTER TEST".
He had stuck it out. He had put up with everything.
Fes was especially glad to have this new recruit. It was the first time in a long time that a new fella came along AND brought with him a reason to tear a strip offa someone too. The Whole Wolverine Solutions busness had ended well, and it looked like that Company had suffered a rather "drastic 3rd Quarter loss", due to the disappearance of 6 battle mechs from their training facility.
All 6 were now sitting in the hangers of the Geriatrix, having real weapons mounted on them instead of simulators. Sure, it was a bit underhanded, some might even suggest criminal, but nobody pushes OMO around.
Fes reached into the cooler full of ice, grabbed on of his homebrews (funny, there were still alot of them in here. Oh well, more for him), and twisted the cap off. Poor Eccentric, if he thought the multiple Artillery Beacon explosions in the simulator made his head hurt, wait until he woke up in the morning after a few of Festus' stolen brewskis. |
| Eccentric-OMO |
Posted - May 18 2003 : 12:18:40
"Geez - did you put turbochargers on that Fafnir or something," crackled over the comm channel.
Deranged sat back and chuckled, replacing the beer bottle back in the cupholder of his slightly modified Faffie. Having unlimited access to the nearly forgotten simulator pod in the back of the old training center had it's advantages - not only did he have plenty of time to toy with loadouts and modifications, but he could also work on his special cockpit "comfort" ideas as well...
"...I've never seen one move that fast," the comm channel squaked again.
Time to get back to work. man, these guys were making it tough for him. Night time, heavy fog....and no radar. Not to mention the couple of fast little buggers that kept sneaking up behind him and flaming him to shutdown.
A moving light in the distance, and the reticle turns red. Tracers from the quad RACs reached out and sent a little leaded love to one of his tormentors.
"Ow, crap - that hurt" said the comm channel. Deranged chuckled. Satisfied, he saw yet another explosion light up the darkened factory floor. Not him this time. The buzzer sounds, and in the simulator pods, the final tallies flashed up - well, all things considered, he didn't think his 12 kills were all that bad. of course, there were the 24 deaths...
The cockpit of the simulator slams open and rough hands grab him, dragging him out and tossing him into a chair. One set of hands held his arms behind the chair, while another pulled back his head. The foul-smelling liquid poured into his mouth, and down his throat, as he heard the guys discussing "so what should we name him?"
Man, this stuff was horrid. Not that he minded a beer or something stronger every now and then - but he could swear that this stuff had been fermented in the stomach of some dead and decomposing beast, then strained through someone's old dirty socks. Well, at least it did make his belly feel warm, and was making his head a little light...
After numerous suggestions were made (accompanied sometimes by laughter, other times by "what the...?") finally they seemed to come to an agreement...
"Welcome, Eccentric-OMO! Cheers and OWO!" |
| Retread_OMO |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 22:18:51
And as I was released from my straight jacket for the forth time, I was still wandering how I came to be in the OMO mental asylumn. |
| Arcane |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 16:54:51
LMAO |
| Aged |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 16:51:13
 |
| Petrified-OMO |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 16:39:18
Back at the bar...
Spiff, the bar tender, knew his patrons would be ticked when they discovered he was out of beer. The Mech-heads, as he called them, were avid beer drinkers and would often trash bars when the tap flowed dry.
"Hey Jake, tell me that truck arrived." Spiff anxiously called into his comm mic.
"Man, let me tell you, those Wolverine creeps hijacked it again."
"(#*&$%^!!" Spiff hated them, they were ruder than a Canadian Dentist being fondled by bears, and tended to take things they had no right to. "Don't tell me that."
"Man, you gotta call Joe." Jake was serious. He knew Spiff was a good hand as a Bar keep and could handle many a fight, but beer dry Mechers were more than enough to burn the joint down. "Call Joe, they'll never know the difference anyways."
Jake was right there. Many Mechers lost their sense of taste and smell sitting in those over heated metal scraps. Spiff knew Joe was good about making the best mock beer around and often the most snoobish of Mech-heads couldn't tell the difference.
"Ok, I'll call Joe." Redialing Joe answered quicker than usual - the 20th ring now, "Joe, I need you to run me your best."
"Hey, I just sold a fresh lot to Antony's down the way, but I think I can get some older stuff from the basement I keep on hand... you know those mosquitoes hate the stuff." In the background the pastoral sounds of goats could clearly be heard.
- - -
Aged decided to take Petrified up on his offer for a beer. At least the old fool won't shove a Carmen Machia.. whatever, in front of me Aged thought.
"Man Arcane," Pet said "that was sure one helluva drop. Let me get the first round - only fair you know since poor old Confused sucked up most of the larger last night"
"Yeah, sure was, Still can't figure out how you know where to drop those Long Toms though."
"It's all in the smell Arcane." Petrified raised his mug to Aged and both men were satisfied with the healthy clank from their mugs colliding. "Bottoms up!"
Spiff turned from the two, trying to stiffle a snicker... |
| Aged |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 15:43:06
Aged recalled the events in the bar from a few nights ago...
It all started when Confused sat down next to him and started talking about jay-walking or something. Then things got really weird. Petrified was buying him those sissified coffees that Arcane so adored. Festus had taken a dump in Arcane's mech and somehow, Aged had been blamed for it. After all was said and done, all Aged knew was he was broke and that somebody needed to pay... (Oh, and he had a pretty good idea that DLT didn't like poptarts.)
Maybe a beer sounded pretty good after all. ... as long as it wasn't goat piss. |
| Arcane |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 15:24:30
That is purely a Festus trick... Aged wouldn't stoop that low (probably couldn't even if he wanted to) 
Here lets fix this... 
It wasn't well known in the club but Petri was clinically blind (which explained quite a lot actually). Take for example the fact that Petri was always buying Aged a Carmel Macchiato and calling him Arcane. Aged, a not so reformed beer drinker, mostly drank milk and ate cookies these days. He would just sigh, shake his head in dismissal, realizing the futility of trying to tell Petri he WASN'T ARCANE and he DIDN'T LOOK LIKE FESTUS, and would sip on the mostly warm milk drink until Petri would leave.
"How can Arcane drink this crap", he muttered to himself repeatedly the whole time, "I knew he had masochistic tendencies but, really, this is ridiculous"
Petri was starting to get on Aged's nerves, though. The rumor he had started about Aged being lactose intolerant was just about the last straw. That and the fact that Petri was also spreading rumors that Aged was pulling ol' Festus tricks in cockpits.
He knew that Arcane would never believe him capable of such a display but the rumor did hit close to home. He wondered if Arcane would figure out that he had enlisted Festus' skills to do the job proper.
"Well, it serves him right", Aged muttered to himself as he left the command center. "He should know better than to screw with my personal account. I guess it's time to 'fix' Arcane's personal hologram."
Whistling "The Bitch is Back (an old Elton John song)", Aged stepped up his pace. He was anxious to get to work. "Won't Arcane be surprised", he chuckled. |
| Petrified-OMO |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 15:02:08
hmmm, I see the point of confusion here. Some people, who are lactose intolerant, will have gas or even diahrea. It is that combination I was thinking of.
Of course, if you like Carmen Miranda, please, drink yourself into a tizzy. |
| Aged |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 14:57:32
Ok, let's see: drinking Carmen Miranda's until I'm hyper or farting in Arcane's mech from drinking too much milk.
Choices, choices ...  They're both so tempting. |
| Petrified-OMO |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 14:37:05
What?! You didn't think that was funny? |
| Aged |
Posted - May 12 2003 : 13:58:07
Uhh. ok ... nevermind |
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| Old Men Online |
© 2002 Old Men Online |
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