Template:MainPageVandalism

!!!!!!! SCROLL DOWN TO FIND THE START OF THE TEMPLATE !!!!!!!!!

Ladies, the template won't might not work properly if you use wiki table code like ! and | at the start of a line without creating your own table. It won't break, but it definitely will look god-awful on the main page. You've been warned.

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...don't. Just forkin don't.

wuv

DO NOT REMOVE THIS MESSAGE

(From the Admins: SERIOUSLY, DON'T)

{From Seppy: yeah, what they said)

^^I ATE MYSELF kfsok oisjo isdjfoidsclk srfijkcjirfk,fvknc mxkhbiuf jb ncxmkbmhukjf ncxhy bujcjm hkib ugfH

^^ Or else what, big boy? Ya gonna get the US Army on us? Heheheheheh

^^ Yeah, THEY are gonna get the US army on you. I on the other hand, are British. So suck it.

^^ But you obviously AREn't English, or at least don't use correct English grammar! score one for the Yankees I, on the other hand, AM an American. YEE-HAW!!!!!!!!111

^^ stfu pl0x. I own j00. I speak dah grammir g00d tbh. Alz0 ur s00pir ghey. S0 i win s0n. OLOL.

^^ I spkz gud eenglish, i learn it from a buick

WHERE'D MY CLEVER IDEAS GO?

This template is supposed to change quickly, fast, immediately and now, to be whatever anyone passing by wants it to be at the moment. (Barring obscenities, of course.) It's not supposed to be good or interesting, just random.

So please don't expect something you made to be there when you check back; it will have been absorbed into the general vandalism. This page is a free release to be able to change what is on tandit}}he template without repercussions of pissing someone off for overwriting their work.

(QUICK VERSION: It's here. Now shut the knife and fork up.)

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You make me love you love you yeah, with a little ELP from my friends!! - I once bought a guitar made of a butter tub and elastic bands for one million sugar grains. It was my most favourite instrument ever. Beats the crap Fender come out with. I wouldn't brush my granny's hair with that tosh!

Gok One: "And were done here! Now, what do you make of your new body?" Jane: "I prefer my old one" Gok One: "Well tough turkey twizzlers, 'cause you're stuck with this one for the rest of your life! Unless you go through a very lengthy, painful and terribly awful ordeal" Jane: "What do I have to do?" Gok One: "It's simple... kill the Batman" Jane: "OH NO! IT'S THE KOMEDIAN!" Komedian: "HAHAHAHA! You may die now!" Jane: "Wha-wait. You're Liquid now?" Liquid: "Admit it, Snake. I'm the better one!" Snake: "Actually, now that you mention it... Dad did like to shoot at me while I was driving on my bike" Liquid: "That's nothing. He used to floss with my nappies. Then I had to wear them. You have no idea how disgusting that was"

“Ain't talking about Fontana. Ain't talking about potato-headed Bombay. Talking about the Illinois Enema Bandit!”

~ Ray White on assistant to the Illinois Enema Bandit

Jesus taught his evil minions with interpretive dance, and getting them hammered on Mogen David 20/20, a vile and questionably Kosher wine-like substance. He's coming back as Predator. There will be a podcast.

I was warned. I read Blankey, and the threat was spelled out for us all, there, in the article, in black and white. It's like death and taxes; you never think it might happen to you. Today. my blankey rose up against its master.

Its eyes were on fire, legs akimbo, as I watched, frozen, unable to move. Static electric fingers shot out as if blankey willed it so. And the teeth! They were close, and acrid, brutal and yellowed from blood and hair asundered from former owners.

The prophet spake true. It was only the skills of two towelies that saved us from observing Ramadan.

<blink>This is annoying.</blink>

I found a lump on my toe today. It had me a little concerned. I mean, there was this lump on my toe, you know? That's not supposed to happen, right? See, it was all lumpy and weird and on my toe, so you know what? I panicked. Went and investigated this lump on my toe.

Turned out it was actually just the bone jutting out a bit. Toes don't have much flesh to them.

^^ The same thing happened to me. I was just feeling my ear up like I do every Sunday.... and I found a lump in my lobe. 'Bout the size of a small pea. I picked at it a while, till I broke the skin and started to bleed. The wound healed, but the lump remained under the skin. Turned out it was cancerous, so I had to get my ear amputated. And that's why I am a man with no ankles.

Greetings from the universe of sentient poop, where the joy of persimians removes all thought of hastening. Camelids and eyelids have lids in common. Redeem yourself before the gooch of gnarl, else face the peril of comatose holiday spirit. You have been warned.

EVUL! IT'S TEH MAJIC! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM<<WRfeioioggriogriirioioiogrroirio!~

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||= _/00 |? 1337, _/00 1`/|< |>3|\||535 (and blarp)

Type your translation here: No, not here, over there on that piece of paper. Then throw it in a bucket of water.

THE THING IS, I'VE GOT THIS PROBLEM SEE? EVERY TIME I SPEAK, WORDS COME OUT. And that's the reason I'm sitting in this mental institution, Billy Boy.

Yippie-ky hey, muppet chucker!

FKArhnerE E qR QRqr wT AWET awR WrA Wet AWetewr FSAEF asEFWaTF waegAwetgaW::::::::::::::::::::::::E gARS gAErg AergERA ARg ARg ARg AEg AERg ASRG REghrehg RAEyhWERJWKLA, rf/; W awERt ERty AREt AERGY ERG er gER RA AETG eG yeary gerG A Aerg drgh trhUYTS herTY erser yera aerT Aert er ar aertg Aery qen m

oxygen saturation test

8=====D

I think my words speak for themself.

You're disgusting.

Like a hotdog in a bun made of dog turd.

Case in point. >.<

Make a million in a second! Rob a millionaire.

Excerpt from a Christian text comic book.

Tremble, you blasphemers and heretics, for your batteries are low, and Jesus is gonna kick your ass! Go ahead, run if you like. Gather up all your flexible intent, your wrinkly gee-gaws and petrified relatives. Put them in a sack, and run for the hills. You won't get far. Carl Palladino has pictures of you, doing... things... to his horse.

L

What the L is that? ------->

AN L.

Oooo, vandalism... I tried vandalising something, once. It was horrible. I had this lovely idea, embedded stuffs in embedded stuffs... whoever checks signatures, right? But it failed. It failed so utterly.

The vandalism itself succeeded, mind. I just couldn't get around it any more than anyone else could... and now I'm stuck with a userpage template that's impossible to edit without manually entering the urls for it...

Vandalism is hard. Don't denigrate it, people. It takes skill to do it right.

True dat. Banned from Wikipedia 5 times. Never blanked a page or put jibber jabber. Doing vandalism right is making the stuck-up admin chuckle before banning... at least that's the way I see it. --T3 15:38, 26 Serpeniver 2010 (UTC)

But you do know how? How? Could you, by any chance, teach me? ~ *shifty eyes* (talk) • (stalk) -- 20100926 - 19:27 (UTC)

Join us again for Vandalism Weekly, with me, Johnny Bumfarts, next week.

It has come to my attention that recent comments in the vandalism section have become rather highbrow. All I have to say to this is flugnoflarbex. Ma *hah*!

MEDICAL ALERT High fructose corn syrup will now be used in lieu of altitude sickness. Climb the port magenta for a Taoist interpretation of your X-rays.

Chiropractors please come around back to collect your money, and remember; if you killed your patient, you won't get paid.

Self-proclaimed Messiahs need to make an appointment. Please have all your blood work, rejection by the popular masses, holy scriptures and dietary laws (if any) registered with the nurse out front who looks like Margaret Thatcher.

Drug-seeking potty-mouthed narcissists and bestiality enthusiasts may apply for work, but will not be seen by medical staff under any circumstances.

The following message is brought to you by the Mickey Mouse Corporation.

Typical liberal lies. Scooby Doo couldn't lead his way outside a ham and DVD player sandwich. The Esteemed Donald Duck is the only good candidate in this election.

Message ends.

Is this thing on?

Vote Scooby Doo. Or Donald Duck. They're both equally qualified. Blarg.

DPL can kiss my expertly polished buttocks :(

I promise that each and every one of you will eat my shorts or else!!!!!!!!!!! OH YEAHH!

I will kill each and every last one of you.

Wut TuW Wut TuW Wut TuW Wut TuW Ladies and gentlemen, please stand for the national anthem of Argentina.

Deutschland, Deutschland uber alles!

Tell me something to write here, now. What, you want me to write 'shut the folk up?'

Finds and exterminates George Formby

MEGAPHART BONAPARTE.

I ate the poisoned toad. Little did he know that I am immune to toads. AH HA HA HAAAAA. AH ha HA ha Ha HAAAAAA.

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Monkey farts.

MAD GIBBER!!! mad gibebremad gibbermadgibber madgibberMAD gibletsmA DGib BERMAFHIN *poof*

Excuse me while I eat my sandwich....

Excuse me while I kiss this guy.

Illogicopedia. Now with free turd!

Super Mario ate my hamster.

Corrosive anti-vandal paint .. all in my eye.

Monster: OMNOMNOMNOM

Pretty lady: Help!

Jim: I'll save you!

Jim pulls the pretty lady out of monster's mouth, preventing monster from experiencing a terrible case of explosive diarrhoea. Jim is then awarded the key to monster city.

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Fooper's Fun Land is a happy land where children play. The air is clean, the cows moo contentedly, and the sun is always high in the sky. Unfortunately that means the sun /is/ in the sky. However high it is in that particular plane it is still in the sky, i.e. the atmosphere, instead of being say, 149 million kilometres away, where it would best serve fertile conditions for life. As you would expect, the gravitational pull of the sun at such a close distance instantly proved too much for the little planet and the cows didn't stand a chance.

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O_/                     \_O
/\_  oh shit the cops   _/\
_/ \                   / \_

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"Woah, This template still gets archived? I thought society had moved on since them days."

"You'd think so wouldn't you Ted. Come on, this is something to complain to the Guardian about."

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An Englishman, an Irishman and an American walk into a bar. The American is too overweight to fit through the door and collapses. Attempts to resuscitate him prove unsuccessful and later that night he passes away. The Englishman, distraught at the loss of his friend, turns his gun on 19 others and eventually himself. The Irishman is crushed to death by the crowd fleeing from the gunfire.

^^^ I lol'd--Fishalishalish 00:57, 9 Yoon 2010 (UTC)

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So, whose moldy bread is this? No ones? Ok, I'll just, er, throw it away...

/gobble

Delicious

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Hyyiytrtruitr by Mrboxcube