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Posted: Fri Feb 23, 2007 10:39 pm
by alabamabronco
...fish eye

Bud or Bud light?

Posted: Fri Feb 23, 2007 10:42 pm
by Ducks be us
Bud

wieghted or water

Posted: Fri Feb 23, 2007 10:46 pm
by alabamabronco
wieghted

4 duck limit or 6 duck limit?

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 12:49 am
by champcaller
6

avery or drake

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 1:32 am
by MSDawg870
avery


browning or remington?

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 2:11 am
by greenheadgrimreaper
Remington

See your mom naked on the net or your grandma

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 7:37 am
by Bankermane
Your mama :D :D

Grizzly or Rincon?

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 7:47 am
by mudsucker
Rincon

Can't believe this has not been asked,

PAPER or PLASTIC?

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 1:06 pm
by greenheadgrimreaper
Paper

TOPS or French lights

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 3:18 pm
by Ducks be us
French Lights

Baked or Fried

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 3:28 pm
by RIPPY
fried

ugly face hot body--- hot face heavy body

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 3:29 pm
by Blackwater
hot face heavy body
(good personality) Bwahaaaaahhaaaaaa

Scotch or bourbon or whiskey

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 4:01 pm
by h2o_dog
Blackwater wrote:Scotch or bourbon or whiskey


uh, yeah.

To be, or not to be: that is the question: 8)
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 4:04 pm
by Blackwater
well i guess that kinda sums it up :D

Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 4:10 pm
by Greenhead22
Much Ado About Nothing :lol: