If...

a bog would sing, it wouldn't make peat while it flopped.

...I would have read that post while drinking, Pepsi would have come spewing out my nose.

...I would've read that post drinking, Pineapple-Banana Smoothie would've come spewing out of my nose (and that'd be very painful).

if only i were alone for just a second

kicky hadn't been caught with his hand up her pants, the parents wouldn't be looking to snipe his ass......

If this topic had stood a snowball's chance in hell of having a long life it would have been evidenced with more posts by now.

If I don't stop picking my nose soon, my head will cave in.

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling

If six inches were a foot, I'd be a porn star.

If porn stars were named according to the volume of semen produced, my screen name would be Hugh Jeruption.

If I'd havem just laid off the booze, I wouldn't be making a complete ass of myself right now.

If I hadn't of invited my in-laws over, I would be in bed now, sleeping all snug and cozy....

If I knew this were my last day, I'd be doing something significant right now. Or would I?

If I weren't sleeping I'd know what I was typing right now...

if wishes were horses, all rides would be free