Whether it's your first Bonnaroo or you’re a music festival veteran, we welcome you to Inforoo.
Here you'll find info about artists, rumors, camping tips, and the infamous Roo Clues. Have a look around then create an account and join in the fun. See you at Bonnaroo!!
... something so amazing the human mind can hardly fathom it. something so phenominal that ordinary men and women can't even handle its awsomeness. Petey's doozer stick was the michael jordan of doozer sticks. The mount everest of doozer sticks. Really it might not be able to be called a doozer stick at all, but something entirely different, such was the degree to which petey's doozer stick stood above all other doozer sticks. Perhaps it could be called a super doozer stick, or maybe a doooooozer stick. In all honesty petey did not know wtf to call it, but he knew what he had to do with it, it must be destroyed. Just then he heard a light knock upon the door to his cabin. Petey walked over to take a look out at the security monitor. "F*CK!" he said to himself, "anyone, why couldn't it be anyone else in the world. just not him," the one man who stood in his way. Through the security cams dusty lens he could just make out the outline of a peg leg against the setting sun. How he got here didnt matter, and why he came merely an afterthought. He took out his trusty six-shooter from the locked case in his top drawer, lit his last p-funk, and opened the door.......
Post by oatmealschnappz on Apr 26, 2007 1:32:21 GMT -5
....The thunder of the shots was almost unbearable in his tiny parrot ears! Sickened by his thirst for revenge, he vomited as he reloaded again. "This sick bastard must pay!", his only thought. The thought that drove him to this point. The thought that would eventually lead to his death. As the bullets and confetti rained down on him, he knew what had to be done! Finally, once and for all, he knew he had to...
Last Edit: Apr 26, 2007 1:34:21 GMT -5 by oatmealschnappz - Back to Top
Post by billypilgrim on Apr 26, 2007 11:51:00 GMT -5
Memories of his days with the USC cheerleading squad came flooding back and with them, memories of Rebecca, sweet Rebecca. That summer on the beach, the fabric of her bikini strained to the limit, a single bead of sweat dripping down her . . .
One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain. So hit me with music. Hit me with music, now, yeah. Hit me with music. Brutalize me with music.
