Making money off ringtones?



Seriously!! Didn't expect my thread to get jacked by some post count monkeys

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I gotta pee...

Flycell is supposed to be a good one dunno but really gotta go...oh wait nvm.
 
ACT I

SCENE I. A desert place.

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches
First Witch
When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
Second Witch
When the hurlyburly's done,
When the battle's lost and won.
Third Witch
That will be ere the set of sun.
First Witch
Where the place?
Second Witch
Upon the heath.
Third Witch
There to meet with Macbeth.
First Witch
I come, Graymalkin!
Second Witch
Paddock calls.
Third Witch
Anon.
ALL
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover through the fog and filthy air.
Exeunt
SCENE II. A camp near Forres.

Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant
DUNCAN
What bloody man is that? He can report,
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.
MALCOLM
This is the sergeant
Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil
As thou didst leave it.
Sergeant
Doubtful it stood;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald--
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him--from the western isles
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name--
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave;
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.
DUNCAN
O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Sergeant
As whence the sun 'gins his reflection
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come
Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark:
No sooner justice had with valour arm'd
Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage,
With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men
Began a fresh assault.
DUNCAN
Dismay'd not this
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Sergeant
Yes;
As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were
As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorise another Golgotha,
I cannot tell.
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
DUNCAN
So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;
They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons.
Exit Sergeant, attended
Who comes here?
Enter ROSS
MALCOLM
The worthy thane of Ross.
LENNOX
What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
That seems to speak things strange.
ROSS
God save the king!
DUNCAN
Whence camest thou, worthy thane?
ROSS
From Fife, great king;
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky
And fan our people cold. Norway himself,
With terrible numbers,
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict;
Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm.
Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,
The victory fell on us.
DUNCAN
Great happiness!
ROSS
That now
Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition:
Nor would we deign him burial of his men
Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
DUNCAN
No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.
ROSS
I'll see it done.
DUNCAN
What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won.
Exeunt
 
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Hello new friend, my name is Fred
the words you hear are in my head.
I say, I said my name is Fred,
and I've been... very naughty.

The story I'm about to tell,
I tell you, I will tell you well,
Is of my dear aunt Muriel,
and just how I've been... naughty.

Voila the farm. My aunt lives here,
with precious pup, and husband dear.
My heart beats fast as I drew near,
I feel so nice... and naughty.

I thought just how excited they,
must be that I would come today,
they'd shout "come Fred! huzzah! hooray!
Dear boy you look so... naughty."

That's when my tired eyes beheld,
a doggy dog, like dog, he smelled,
D-O-G, is what he spelled,
and that's how I spell... naughty.

Alone was I, with tender Courage,
and all his fur, his furry furrage,
which, I say, did encourage,
me, to be... quite naughty.

Courage... your hair...
it reminds me of the first time I knew just how,
I felt, about hair.

It was a day, I'd not forget,
the day that I first met my pet,
oh what a lovely gift to get,
I'd never felt so... naughty.

My fuzzy friend, is what he was,
this darling little ball of fuzz,
And oh, such fuzz, such fuzz, it does,
demand, that I... be naughty.

He looked at me, his fetching eyes,
and fetching fur did hypnotize,
and filled with joy, and filled with sighs,
and that's when I got... naughty.

Now, now... you shouldn't play in the toilet.

This dripping hair, this droopy curl,
unfold sweet memories of a girl,
whose tresses, oh, they'd twist and twirl,
and tempt me to be... naughty.

Barbara, my love was named,
and her fair hair, a mane untamed,
until one evening, I'm ashamed,
I got a little... naughty.

The look upon my young love's face,
was sweet as lace,
but in this case,
I realized she... needed space.

I never more was naughty...
well... maybe not never.

Dear cur, your fur and fleece remind,
of nothing found in human kind,
but for one fellow who did find,
me, to be... in a certain mood.

Into my shop, he walked one day,
with bush above, and beard bouquet,
that's no toupee I pray, no way,
I could help but be... you know.

I'd never seen such hair before,
his bangs they sang, his neck it beckoned,
eyebrows, armpits, all were reckoned,
soon I figured what the heck and,
guess how I was... naughty.

Sweet pooch, afraid I'll shave your tail?
Why now, that would be weird!

So ends our little story.

But then my landlords did resume,
to free me from that porcelain tomb,
and ferry to a private room,
your hero, ever doughty.

Good-bye dear aunt, I'll miss your farm,
and Eustace's ebullient charm,
and farewell Courage, what's the harm,
if I was slightly... naughty.

With love,
Fred
 
DwightShrute-

Your picture was funny, but your use of it was misplaced. I'm not making millions of dollars a month on rigntones, my clients are. For anyone to proclaim that the ringtone is dead is asinine. There are many viable, profitable, and growing companies involved in the ringtone biz.
 
DwightShrute-

Your picture was funny, but your use of it was misplaced. I'm not making millions of dollars a month on rigntones, my clients are. For anyone to proclaim that the ringtone is dead is asinine. There are many viable, profitable, and growing companies involved in the ringtone biz.

ohhhhhhh so u mad cus dwight is stylin on ya broke ass
 
DwightShrute-

Your picture was funny, but your use of it was misplaced. I'm not making millions of dollars a month on rigntones, my clients are. For anyone to proclaim that the ringtone is dead is asinine. There are many viable, profitable, and growing companies involved in the ringtone biz.


Not from around here, are you? lol