MOUSE TRAP

9/26/2009 6:33:57 AM

BEST GAME EVER

9/26/2009 7:01:36 AM

the board game

or the arcade/console game?

9/26/2009 7:10:10 AM

9/26/2009 7:12:11 AM

damn

they REALLY fell for that shit

9/26/2009 7:12:33 AM

if anyone has a spare mouse trap arcade cabinet lying around, let me know, I'm an interested buyer

9/26/2009 11:24:29 AM

ya roll your dice, ya move your mice. nobody gets hurt.

9/26/2009 11:49:02 AM

9/26/2009 11:59:07 AM

the ball used to always get stuck at the bottom of that blue piece on mine.

9/26/2009 12:00:09 PM

I don't think I ever played the game all the way through

I would just set up the traps

9/26/2009 12:01:15 PM

i don't think anyone ever actually played the game. i was disappointed to learn that i couldn't rearrange the pieces in that game.

oh, and lol at people that insist on removing but not killing the rodents in their house.

9/26/2009 12:15:35 PM

MOUSE TRAP

12/18/2009 8:30:29 PM

MOUSE TRAP

4/26/2010 2:09:48 AM

Quote :

"Enter two Players, King and Queen. P. King. Full thirty times hath Phœbus’ cart gone round Neptune’s salt wash and Tellus’ orbed ground, And thirty dozen moons with borrow’d sheen About the world have times twelve thirties been, Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands Unite commutual in most sacred bands. P. Queen. So many journeys may the sun and moon Make us again count o’er ere love be done! But, woe is me! you are so sick of late, So far from cheer and from your former state, That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust, Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must; For women’s fear and love holds quantity, In neither aught, or in extremity. Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know; And as my love is siz’d, my fear is so. Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. P. King. Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too; My operant powers their functions leave to do: And thou shalt live in this fair world behind, Honour’d, belov’d; and haply one as kind For husband shalt thou— P. Queen. O! confound the rest; Such love must needs be treason in my breast: In second husband let me be accurst; None wed the second but who kill’d the first. Ham. [Aside.] Wormwood, wormwood. P. Queen. The instances that second marriage move, Are base respects of thrift, but none of love; A second time I kill my husband dead, When second husband kisses me in bed. P. King. I do believe you think what now you speak; But what we do determine oft we break. Purpose is but the slave to memory, Of violent birth, but poor validity; Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree, But fall unshaken when they mellow be. Most necessary ’tis that we forget To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt; What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. The violence of either grief or joy Their own enactures with themselves destroy; Where joy most revels grief doth most lament, Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. This world is not for aye, nor ’tis not strange, That even our love should with our fortunes change; For ’tis a question left us yet to prove Whe’r love lead fortune or else fortune love. The great man down, you mark his favourite flies; The poor advanc’d makes friends of enemies. And hitherto doth love on fortune tend, For who not needs shall never lack a friend; And who in want a hollow friend doth try Directly seasons him his enemy. But, orderly to end where I begun, Our wills and fates do so contrary run That our devices still are overthrown, Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own: So think thou wilt no second husband wed; But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. P. Queen. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light! Sport and repose lock from me day and night! To desperation turn my trust and hope! An anchor’s cheer in prison be my scope! Each opposite that blanks the face of joy Meet what I would have well, and it destroy! Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, If, once a widow, ever I be wife! Ham. If she should break it now! P. King. ’Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile; My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile The tedious day with sleep. [Sleeps. P. Queen. Sleep rock thy brain; And never come mischance between us twain! [Exit. Ham. Madam, how like you this play? Queen. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. Ham. O! but she’ll keep her word. King. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in ’t? Ham. No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i’ the world. King. What do you call the play? Ham. The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is the duke’s name; his wife, Baptista. You shall see anon; ’tis a knavish piece of work: but what of that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung."

4/26/2010 3:17:04 AM

[Edited on April 26, 2010 at 4:08 AM. Reason : i feel like marko for posting this]

4/26/2010 4:07:44 AM