Fill text

does anybody have a good “filltext” for me?
Sort of like the LORUM IPSUM ya, know what i mean



usually I just write “Text” like 3000 times…

The quick, sly fox jumped over the lazy, brown dog. Repeat as desired.

Open up MS Word, type


and hit enter.

where 5 is the number of paragraphs, and 30 is the number of times you want the sentence

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

to be written.

Copy and paste where you want it.

Super neat!

Never knew that! Thanks for pointing that trick out flex =)

This should go straight to the Best of Kirupa :stuck_out_tongue:

You guys are welcome.

hat off to you sir… NEVER knew that, nor would have thought of it!! :bandit:

Thanx, for that! :-))


Thats incredible and a definite time saver. Definitely got my vote for the best of kirupa!

There is also if you type a colon and a right or left parenthesis you get a smiley or frown face, but thats common knowledge:)

Personally, being a Brit, I always use this little ditty from the Bard:

<i>To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there’s the respect That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover’d country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?</i>