Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and I'm home bound

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cwkej79U3ek

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

{LINK REMOVED}
y u do dis[www.420yolo.com]
aint nobody got time 4 dat[akk.li]

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The road to Mount Olympus

7 June, 2013 - Chris Benoit | 1 Comments

Dale is king,
Dale is swole,
What can we do,
To bless his sole.
From the great depression,
To his divine intervention,
He has had a sexual abstentation.
From Mount Olympus he came,
For he could not disclaim,
Why he felt ashamed.
For many of the human population were beta,
As he could not behold,
The non-lifting 20%+ body fat that was uncontrolled.
As he taught his ways to the non-shredded,
He felt a sense of being lightheaded.
For he could not believe,
What the general public had achieved.
From fat and lazy we once were,
To shredded and chiselled, we concur.
To all the non-believers who once did not believe,
We will show you what we have achieved.
Shredded and serrated we have become,
You can suck my cherry plum.