after all this time, mike foulks still does not know how to think. that is why he is always questioning how others would do things. he does not have a clue. now he wants ahmeds ideas.
well why don't you go ask your phantom CCO members what you should do, fike moulks? can you not think of ONE idea about what to do, and try to convince drivers to join you? at least the UTCC says they have a plan and committees to discuss what to do. thats where an organization needs to start, with ideas and plans and invitations to participate. (UH OH, now mike might know what he should do--shoot... that's ok, he still wont' know HOW to do it. he'll need an idea man and then some drivers who'll actually do the work, and plan how to do it--oh yeah, then they'll realize they don't need fike moulks anymore. hmmmmm)
Re: Re: I'm doing my long eared beast -- Ahmed R exposed
Hey, give 'im a break. He's doing his long-eared beast, aint he?
Hey! "Ahmed R" could be an anagram of "Red Ham".
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Replying to:
after all this time, mike foulks still does not know how to think. that is why he is always questioning how others would do things. he does not have a clue. now he wants ahmeds ideas.
well why don't you go ask your phantom CCO members what you should do, fike moulks? can you not think of ONE idea about what to do, and try to convince drivers to join you? at least the UTCC says they have a plan and committees to discuss what to do. thats where an organization needs to start, with ideas and plans and invitations to participate. (UH OH, now mike might know what he should do--shoot... that's ok, he still wont' know HOW to do it. he'll need an idea man and then some drivers who'll actually do the work, and plan how to do it--oh yeah, then they'll realize they don't need fike moulks anymore. hmmmmm)
Boohoohooo Mike: "plenty of arrows for the "real enemies" AND Peter Enger...I simply pick up the ones that Peter Enger, Donald Nathan, Yi Tang, Wolf Weiss (and his "company") have continuously fired"
Get it right Ham Omlet:
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
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,
That undiscover'd country from whose bourne
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.
