TranceAddict Forums (www.tranceaddict.com/forums)
- Chill Out Room
-- Write the bio for the Turner & Romano myspace!
Pages (4): « 1 2 [3] 4 »
Is anyone gonna get the snoop dogg reference?
| quote: |
| Originally posted by dj_bas That'll never happen |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by Clovis Is anyone gonna get the snoop dogg reference? |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by medinaM5 bong hits since 10am? |
the young girl myra romano was doing shopping in the supermarket when she heard someone telling her "hey hey u dropped something on the floor"
she looked back and saw this guy with his cart full of groceries and meat
and asked "what"
the guy replied "your smile"
myra laughed because she thought it was lame but the guy introuced himself as rob turner ...they started speaking a bit but myra was already attracted by rob
they started speaking about music and rob told her he was a kind of musician .....myra was impressed and they went on shopping together watching them closely into the departments of the supermarket
when it was time to pay rob finally said "hey wanna come over i'll show you my turntables?"
myra couldnt resist......
and that's how the wonderful team of turner and romano started
and they lived happy in their sweet studio giving birth to dozen of tunes
-the end-
it's maybe lame but ewww it's ok i suck at writting story 
| quote: |
| Originally posted by Frenchie How cute, joint myspaces. |
Ahhhh it's you two who did the friend request on myspace, i get so many requests i usually ignore most of them lol
I'll add you when i get back from work.
| quote: |
| Originally posted by Wicked Neo Ahhhh it's you two who did the friend request on myspace, i get so many requests i usually ignore most of them lol I'll add you when i get back from work. |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by RJT It's not as if this is some "cute" pointless couple thing we're doing - We do actually play shows together. |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by l�cid because honestly, being a whore is tough work, and we're both lazy. |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by RJT Seriously. You people all need to do our work for us - haven't we done enough? |
| quote: |
| Originally posted by l�cid actually the true story of how the idea of Turner & Romano came to life is pretty good... i might try writing it up later just to see if i can sound all professional and awesome. |
once upon a time, rjt & myra decided to become dj's. after many years, they became very skilled. then, in a horrible accident, they clogged the tubes and got died.
buy our music!
the end
ever since rob turner was unborn he'd always dreamed of making polka music but after a smack in the head near birth he was forced to spin music to satisfy his bassinstructor. he worked hard on trying to change the relationship between him & his instructor but was beaten to it by some random bint by the name of myra romano. she managed to get the bassinstructor to mow her front lawn naked for the rest of his life or until he could answer the mystery of the woodchuck that couldn't chuck wood. rob however was left on the streets, shameless and bored and was forced into duty at a shit disco playing the macarena for 12year old girls. in 1998 he managed to sell his hair of knowledge to gain more skill in his trackselection but was jipped by the seller. without his hair of knowledge he ventured into some other forms of expressions such as interpretative dancing, onehand clapping and blindfolded raving. after failing in all these ventures he want back to the only thing he could now do. creating mixmeister sets and selling them to bald turkmenistani kids for exchange of food. one month after that he met myra romano and she held a gun to his head and told him that if he wouldn't like her and be her djpartner for the rest of her life, she would lorraine bobbit him and leave in a forest in the west of jukkasj�rvi,finland. after that, not much happend really.
I'm pretty sure we have a winner 
Might I suggest Xenocreator's post in this thread: http://www.tranceaddict.com/forums/...d=&pagenumber=3 ?
no bio can be considered valid without mention of the inspiration provided by the Crackheads. I demand the bio be reworked!
| quote: |
| Originally posted by Moral Hazard no bio can be considered valid without mention of the inspiration provided by the Crackheads. |
Turner & Romano: butth4x!
Montanas.... re-energised!
ever since rob turner was malested by a goat he'd always dreamed of making snot bubbles from his nose but after a smack in the head by a penis he was forced to do push-ups to satisfy his very small arms. he worked hard on trying to change the relationship between him & his goat but was masterbated by some random species known as the 'myra romano'. The myra beast managed to get the goat to mow her front lawn naked (without fur) for the rest of its life or until he could answer the mystery of the montana that couldn't tan mona mon tan mon tan moo. rob however was left sitting on the lubed dildo, hot and sticky and was forced into volleyball lessons at a beach playing the game for 70year old grandmas. in 1882 he managed to sell his pubic hair of gruffnuts to gain more scrutum skin in his scrutum skin ball sack area but was jipped by the blunt scissors. without his pubic hair of jizzy gruffnuts he ventured into some other forms of expressions such as donkey impersonations, cow milking with his feet and blindfolded after dinner mint nibbling. after failing in all these ventures he want back to the only thing he could now do. creating genetically enhanced creatures and selling them to corporate executives for exchange of sex. one month after that he met the myra romano and she held her boobs to his head and told him that if he wouldn't like her and be her a nude jello wrestler for the rest of the goats life, she would have a party and invite all her girlfriends to a forest in the west of yo mummas bum hole. after that, everything happend, like swallowing eggs whole, swallowing bannanas whole, swallowing electrical cables whole etc.
yeah, bit to much xeno
| quote: |
| Originally posted by montana yeah, bit to much xeno |
*procrastinating on my last paper for this semester bump*

One fine August morning Rob Turner was aimlessly staggering out of a club after 10 straight hours of dancing his ass off to pounding house music from the decks of one Danny Howells. Turner was so disoriented that the intensity of the 10 AM sun surprised him and caused him to fall to his knees in the middle of a large puddle. The spray of his descent spattered across the chique red stilletos of a posh young woman casually opening the door to her stretch limo. The woman turned, and seeing a scruffy, unshaven heap of humanity at her feet, sneered and threw down some loose change. Turner, aware only enough to realize a handout when he saw it, choked on the bile in his throat leftover from a rough period in dirty bathroom stall, and sputtered, "how dare you?" The woman, abhorrent that this putrescent being could be so insolent, kicked him squarely in the face, got in her car, and signalled to the driver to leave at once. Turner, now completely dazed and confused, rose to his feet, and, realizing the time, passed out in the puddle.
When he came to, he was no longer on the sidewalk, but huddle in the corner between a chainlink fence and a dumpster, spooning a homeless man that he strongly suspected, judging from the stench, was dead. Confirming his suspicion, Turner rose to his feet, and surveying the situation, saw the limousine from that morning parked at the end of the alleyway. In somewhat more firm possession of his faculties, Turner began moving toward the limo, in the hopes of securing a good look at his tormentor. Soon the woman came into focus, standing underneath a streetlight in a scandalous cocktail dress that seemed to radiate as brightly as the sun itself. At that moment, Turner knew he loved her.
Before he could reach to her and call out, the woman disappeared into a crowd hastily pushing forward into his favorite club. Turner couldn't remember who was spinning that evening, but it no longer mattered. For this woman, he would withstand even LORD OF BASS in the hopes of getting one more glimpse of her beauty. He pushed his way through the VIP line as people peeled away in horror. Turner was exuberant; he was going to get in without a ticket! Then a giant brick of a man loomed into view, and with one fell sweep, blackness replaced light, and Turner awoke once again in the alleyway. Only this time, he was completely inside the dumpster. Not to be denied, Turner made the decision to labor on to win the hand of his fair maiden. Quickly making the decision to sacrifice even his own personal dignity, Turner leapt to his feet, and quickly removed the grill covering a nearby sewer. He climbed in, and soon had traversed a narrow passageway leading to the very bathroom he had spent such intimate time with the evening before. As his hands brushed aside bile he was sure must be his own, he revealed a secret access door used by plumbers to unclog drains destroyed by coked-out drug runners puking up their wrapped packages.
Turner quickly climbed through the door, and within seconds he was back on the dance floor. Some women shrieked, but Turner paid them no attention. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before he was thrown out once again. For a brief moment he had the clairvoyance to realize his life might be at risk. But then all hesitation vanished. He saw her, dancing happily with some jerk. He pushed his way through the crowd, and, reaching her, grabbed her ass. She punched him.
Turner woke up in a jail cell the next morning, naked and hairless. He no longer stunk of bile and urine, a product, no doubt, of the delousing he had received while unconscious. He remained there, without even a chance to make a phone call, for 24 hours, before the guards dragged him by his arm before a judge. As the judge revealed the details of the sexual harrassment case about to be brought before him, the court doors opened and in walked the woman of Turner's dreams. "Myra Romano," the judge boomed, "how nice of you to make it. This, I believe, is the creep that felt you up?" Ms. Romano looked Turner up and down, and ignoring his pleading eyes, announced that he was indeed. Though Turner's fortune had taken a turn for the worse, his mind was lost in wonder. To him, when she spoke it was as if angels had issued forth a heavenly chorus even more beautiful than the vocals in the Arcadia remix of Tiesto's 'Fly'. His life would only be complete if he could summon all of his resolve to speak his heart to her.
"Myra Romano!" Turner bellowed, to the surprise of all inside the court. "I think I love you!" Astonished, the courtroom was completely silent. Murmors soon issued forth, before Ms. Romano stood up, walked over, and looked Turner straight in the eye. "Love is such a powerful word. What makes you so sure of your heart?"
Turner was beside himself; he could scarcely speak a word. "Why, I know not why I am sure. All I know is that I am." Truer words had never been spoken, and like in all times when absolute truth is revealed, evil and doubt retreat, exposing the depths of human emotion. Romano's heart crumbled, just a little bit, at the honesty and humility at her feet. Here was this wretched man, cast aside by society and good fortune, who held on to the only thing he had left in this world: his love for her, and his hope that she may one day return it.
"Your honor," Romano sighed, barely holding back her tears, "please let this man go. He has done no wrong by me, and I forgive him his wretched state."
With that, she turned, and burying her nose in her hankie, rushed forth from the chamber. The judge turned to the bailiff, and whispering a terse command, signalled that Turner could freely take leave. Turner, amazed at the turn of events, bolted for the door, eager to overtake Romano before she disappeared forever. He arrived at the steps of the courthouse just as her limo appeared. As she opened the door to get in, he shouted out to her. Her brief hesitation did her in; he was upon her. As she whirled to meet him, he quickly placed one finger on her lips. No words, he signalled.
They stared into one another's eyes for an eternity, each saying more than ever could be said verbally. In that moment, Turner knew his undying passion was returned. They parted ways only after the promise of a rendezvous the next day. That night, Turner returned home, and after six straight hours, had created a perfect mix in her honor. Unbeknownst to him, Romano had suffered a bout of insomnia herself, and had put together the most amazing dj set in her life for him. The next day, when they met for dinner at a local McDonald's -- after all, Turner was dirt-poor but still old-fashioned -- they exchanged gifts, and in that moment, history had been sealed. Turner and Romano were created: a team that would change the DJ world and come to be known as the most powerful duo of all-time. Sasha & Digweed; Clovsha & Basweed; Bonnie & Clyde; Tom & Jerry; none would ever garner the commercial success to be achieved by Turner and Romano. Romano and Turner consummated their partnership with a passionate session of butth4x -- the first time Romano had ever allowed that on a first date. The rest, my friends, is history.
Too long?
Please tell me you didnt write all that.
Powered by: vBulletin
Copyright © 2000-2021, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.