Not trying to be a dick, but please, don´t put the gear you own on your signature. It messes with the search function (at least using the code on Google).
Today I was trying to search about some equipments to check the forum´s opinion and it returned all the posts of some dudes that included the keywords on their signature. It was impossible to do the research.
So wait, you're telling me that not only does the gear of a retarded low-poster with little material contribution not interest anyone, but it also impedes the learning capabilities the internet was intended to promote?
Well, then here... this will contain NOTHING you will ever search for.
Johnny was walking down the street on his way to a bar to see his friends band play. The band was Gaping Gary. They were a gay metalcore band and they despite the tasteless name, were quite good. Johnny got to the bar with his clothes slightly damp. It had started to rain just as he arrived. He gave the door guy his $5 and got his hand stamp for the bar.
Johnny went to the front of the stage to watch the band Slurpy Slits wrapping up their set. The too were a gay metalcore band, albeit all women. They weren't good though. Johnny just liked the bass player, Susan. She was a hottie and very quiet and intriguing. Johnny was just dying to find out the meaning behind her nickname Queen of the G String. Was it a clever sexual pun or a blatant commentary on her horrendous bass playing?
Johnny met up wuith his friends From Gaping Gary and had a round with them. They laughed, drank and then the guys got to work getting ready to play. Just as they started playing, Susan walked up, drunk as hell and topless. Johnny was pretty stoked at first. But on second glance, he noticed she had as big a lump in her pants as he did in his.
Susan leaned close and whispered in Johnny's ear 'Stick your hand in my pants'. Johnny was reluctant and unfortunately, too sober to just dive right in just yet. He got them a couple shots of 151 and took her to the dressing room in the back. They were gettin it on and getting their clothes off. It was getting to be that time...
Just as Susan started unzipping her pants the lights went out. He was struck in the neck with something hard and knocked out cold. When he was found several hours later by his friends, he was naked, covered in pancake syrup and a box of a dozen golf balls was on the floor beside him, with only 2 in it. Johnny opted not to report this to the police for obvious reasons.
Johnny went right home, refusing to be given a ride from his concerned friends. When he got home he felt a double deuce coming hard. He ran to the bath tub where he yanked off his pants and proceeded to eject in a bi-directional matter. He passed out immediately after that. When he woke up the next day, he was absolutely perplexed. He was in a puddle of fluids and golf balls and an orange ferret was asleep on his belly with a note on it's collar.
'Dear Johnny,
You were great. Hope we can do it again soon. Tangerine, the ferret, likes fruit. Bring him back to me when we hook up next time.
Queen of the G String'
The moral of the story is, don't put gear or personal stats in your signature. YOU'RE FUCKING UP THE INTERNET!
