Such would simply be based upon preference, one would presume. Each browser appears to hold an advantage in some field (or general nostalgic value for others), and as such it is again dependant upon what you yourself may wish for within a browser. For example, Google Chrome is apparently quite fast, whilst Mozilla Firefox is perhaps the most customizable browser present in my current opinion. A list of the comparisons and preferences for each browser may be found here.
I am not surprised that Luxord's mannerisms reflect that of a character in an H. G. Wells novel.
A very happy birthday indeed, madam. It may be no coincidence that your birthday falls on that of Louis Armstrong's as well.
I do indeed love Jumping on the bandwagon With threads sans humour
Advertises hugs for hurt Shadows.
James Joyce would immediately be the winner of this competition. Spoiler: Not a very lovely entry “When I was but a wee lad, your aunt and I lived in a little old house tucked away in the nooks of sprawling suburbia. Things were newer back then – just set up, ready and willing to embrace a new wave of humans that were to be more united in both living quarters and ideals – and as a result, rarely did I see any vegetation around me, save for some wise old trees that would act as guardians. Most of the days would be chilly; frozen with the soft waking breath of a crisp winter morning, and those guardians would have shed their leafy hauberks, revealing an inner skeleton I would rarely see. The skeletons always seemed so delicate – frayed, gentle – and yet, with the furious storms that passed by our neighbourhood, they were, perhaps, the strongest out of all of us – resisting the villainous winds with a noble integrity. Yet my friends and I, young as we were, would huddle up beneath our covers when we would glance towards the rain-drenched windows, viewing the ghastly rapping upon the wet glass that the hands of those demonic monsters outside our homes would create. It would keep our poor souls up all night, and never would we get a wink of sleep when the storms arrived. Of course, your aunt knew better. 'They're trees,' she would constantly bark out whenever she found me huddled in bed like a fox. 'Just trees. They ain't nothing else, so stop worrying and go to bed.' Just trees. I would always tell myself that. Eventually, I reached a point where they stopped meaning much to me – much to anyone, truly. It was more what we thought of the trees than what they were – just trees, nothing more.â€
Oui oui oui.
I do not believe so - there must be indeed members who are smarter than myself. I do believe I may be able to name off quite a few.
Enjoys large bladed weaponry.
Oh, there certainly must be! I do hear tales of those who passed through university at the age of twelve or some such.
Oh no, there are most likely those younger than me who are smarter than I am.
This is the song that plays whenever I am attempting to move through my extremely messy room.
I assure you it is quite true, madam. I sadly cannot place my birth certificate on the forum so the only such substantial proof I may have is...
Voldemort has stolen all of the vowels.
14, madam - and thank you dearly for the comment.
Ah, technically at the time I was 12 but I had only turned as such recently. However, I must thank you dearly for finding that song, madam!
:33 < oh come on equius! you'd be purrfect for roleplaying!
A fixed action pattern is most certainly a basis for further possible behavioural and social development, it would appear.
Now, now, sir, we do not require any unnecessary existential crises from creatures with the inability to produce advanced philosophical thought. I do not wish for a repetition of poor Nibbles' incident.
