I was glad to see you stick up for Alexys Tylor. I also agree with you that serious video bloggers need to move away from You Tube as it is proving to be an unreliable and intrusive medium, You and Alexys are setting the example on all this. Keep it up!

how do I put my topic on board

hello is anybody in here

where is Tonya now?

time to go to H&R block

tried sending ascripture tree ,did youget it if not let me know

Im stressing about filing taxes. I didn't file last year bcz I was out of the country... and now I'm a year late and $1,000 dollars short

-TonyaTko

Booo I'm reading some of your stories and I'm starting to wonder aboutcha!

-TonyaTko

aight steve...just click on your name on the top right of your screen. that should take you to your main page. on the right will be options for editing your bio, avatar n what not

Hi I was going to put in a bio, but I guess I am not able to see where I could do that? Does anyone know?

one of these days i'm gonna connect with an awesome uppercut. somtimes i wonder if i have the power to throw a hadoken fireball. nah prolly not. still it would pretty nice to be able to shoot lasers from my eyes. well maybe not because it would probpably hurt. if i could be any super hero i'd want to be the incredible hulk. nobody would mess with me! i'd own the world! still i wouldn't want anybody to know i was the incredible hulk. i'd want his powers but i'd still would want to look like me. if i was the hulk i'd also like to be able to choose when i could turn off my powers. i still love the challenge of lifting weights and competing. i'd probpably use my powers tho a lil just to impress people every now and then. i'd do chin ups for an hr straight...i bet i'd get a decent crowd and probpably would be asked on a few dates. i'd be like, "not tonight ladies, tonight is chest and tri's." then i'd walk to the water fountain while flaring my wide lats. yea...my wingspan would be teh awesome!

i don't buy clothes. well i don't dress for style. i just build my body. if i could, i'd wear a grey t shirt and shorts everyday. shoot i'd wear the same pair of clothes everyday if i had to. back in high school i'd wear the stupidest shirts to school and my PE shorts because i didn't give a **** bout style. i'd wear like an Aids Walk 97 shirt to school or a shirt with holes and pitt stains on it. as long as i had my awesome muscles i couldn't give a ****. i was still getting play from the females who wanted to grab my arms and reps from the dudes telling me i was f'ing yolked.

yea that **** was bad ass. during lunch i'd do chin ups at the basket ball court and walk into class looking nice. the best feeling in the world is feeling peoples eyes on you. i don't think i have a problem with narcissism because i strive to be humble and try to put people ahead of me but, damn it feels good to be big! yea...i can't wait to hit the weights tommorow. i want some scary forearms

i use to whine when i didn't get my way. i was a little ***** in that sense. like a few months ago my bro had me on speaker phone and i didn't know but he was next to my cuz who "used" to look up to be because he thought i was a tough sob. i was bitching about somthing i think having to do with my ipod. i actually sound like a 3 yr old crying for a toy when i do this. when i found out from my bro that my cuz heard the whole thing i was pretty embarassed and vowed never to be a lil whiny sob again.

when i was a kid i used to pretend i was a Kung Fu master. the old ones from those older Chinese movies who used those bad ass styles like the eagle claw or the crane style. there was this one kung fu character that i would always immitate who would fight with one hand behind his back. i'd always force my little brother to battle me kung fu style. he didn't always like it but i think he felt a lil sorry for me or either he was bored so somtimes he would fallow along.

when i didn't have sombody to battle i'd take my broom aka bo staff and practice my kata. i'd fight imaginary opponents, somtimes 6 at a time and i'd visualize that i was so bad ass when i whooped that ass. one day my pops was coming down the stairs as i was taking on an army. he just stood there watching with a blank stare for a couple minutes when i was fighting these imaginary foes. when i finally turned towards him i was startled and and really embarassed. i tried to play it off by sweeping the floor, lol man was that dumb

GAWD I used to love that show... I watched it recently and mr sandford for some reason seemed extremely ignorant!... But those were good days werent they? I am going to come back and watch this L8r!

-TonyaTKo

UMMMM.... WTF???? LMAO!!! HHAHAHAHA WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I remember I was hammering on a fence in the backyard when Dad approached. He was carrying a letter or something in his hand, and he looked worried. I continued to hammer as he came toward me. "Son," he said, "why are you hammering on that fence? It already has plenty of nails in it." "Oh, I'm not using nails," I replied. "I'm just hammering." With that, I returned to my hammering. Dad asked me to stop hammering, as he had some news. I did stop hammering, but first I got a couple more hammers in, and this seemed to make Dad mad. "I said, stop hammering!" he yelled. I think he felt bad for yelling at me, especially since it looked like he had bad news. "Look," he said, "you can hammer later, but first-" Well, I didn't even wait to hear the rest. As soon as I heard "You can hammer," that's what I started doing. Hammering away, happy as an old hammer dog. Dad tried to physically stop me from hammering by inserting a small log of some sort between my hammer and the fence. But I just kept on hammering, 'cause that's the way I am when I get that hammer going. Then, he just grabbed my arm and made me stop. "I'm afraid I have some news for you," he said. I swear, what I did next was not hammering. I was just letting the hammer swing lazily at arm's length, and maybe it tapped the fence once or twice, but that's all. That apparently didn't make any difference whatsoever to Dad, because he just grabbed my hammer out of my hand and flung it across the field. And when I saw my hammer flying helplessly through the air like that, I just couldn't take it. I burst out crying, I admit it. And I ran to the house, as fast as my legs could take me. "Son, come back!" yelled Dad. "What about your hammer?!" But I could not have cared less about hammering at that point. I ran into the house and flung myself onto my bed, pounding the bed with my fists. I pounded and pounded, until finally, behind me, I heard a voice. "As long as you're pounding, why not use this?" I turned, and it was Dad, holding a brand-new solid-gold hammer. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and ran to Dad's outstretched arms. But suddenly, he jumped out of the way, and I went sailing through the second-story window behind him. Whenever I hear about a kid getting in trouble with drugs, I like to tell him this story. -- Jack Handey