Messages

I won't do.

I have too much malice. Perhaps you may wish to swap something fot it.

2 bags of skittles and a klondike bar?

Why do you hate america?

Because it's far away and hollywood killed me slowly with their crappy 80s action movies. The meaning is to get revenge on hollywood but until then, you'll do.  :E

(oh, and hating america is all that rage nowadays.)

The gun begins a gunpoint. The essence of a gun is only valid when it have been pointed at you. The same goes for a knife or even a fork. You and your wife a ,Äúdiscussion,Äù and she pulls the fork at you. You don't think oh my fucking god that thing can kill me, quite painfully too. How do I make her see it MY way? Because I can compromise, but really, I know I'm right.

The fork can kill you.

Everything he touches, fades. The apple fades. The vase fades. Doors seems to go transparent when he walks through them. Idiots run after him, only to stop by the door. The locklight is enchanced to give full detail.

There is a man and a woman. They are in their house. Their two children are sleeping in their own bedrooms. The dog is in his house. The lawnmower is where it should be. In their bedroom, the man and the woman have oral sex, anal sex and they are also using artificial phallic symbols. Outside, there is a man. The man sits in his car, except it isn't his, they give it to him so he can sit where he sits. The man and the woman have paid for his car. He sits up front in his vehicle. A box labelled Dunkin' Donuts is on the shotgun side of the car. The man is masturbating with the donuts. Occasionally, he briefly brushes his hot cup of coffee against the head of his cock, brushing back skin which was left by his priest. He bites his lip. His mind is there, in the vehicle. It's with a girl named Lucky, she said she had a motto and it churns over and over in his head and then she's there by the shotgun side saying 'you're lucky if you don't catch anything'. His mind returns and he sees out of the window. The man in the car eats the top donut. He flips on the surveillance system and he hears the man and the woman having sex. The man is being deepthroated by the woman whilst the man licks the woman at the spot where he thinks the clitoris is (he is a bit off, though). The woman has a cucumber in her hand which she penetrates her husband's anal opening with. The man in the vehicle has started to masturbate again. He is spitting at his penis, repeatedly. The dog is still silent. The man in the vehicle is breathing heavily. He finishes, smudging the vanilla even more before he puts them back in the box. He takes a grip at the steering wheel, closing his eyes and bending his head towards his legs. 'I mustn't run away. I mustn't run away. I mustn't run away. I mustn't run away.' The man in the house ejaculates and hits the clitoris for the first time as his wife moans. The man stops. 'That was good wasn't it, darling? Give us a fag please.' She nods, smiles, and cries on the inside. Her tears have reached the stomach and it is burning her from the inside. The woman starts shaking. The man next to her hears a fizzleish type of sound coming from her. The room is starting to smell with burning skin. It becomes hot to the touch and he thinks he can see a fire in her stomach. The man with the dog and the children panics. She grabs him 'the cucumber is the freezer. The atom is only alive when under attack. Stasis is the destroyer of rebirth itself. The icecream man will want to sell his van, buy it.' The man in the vehice is outside it, repeating his mantra before jerking upward and making a megaphone with his hands and he starts to scream 'Prying open my third eye. Prying open my third eye. Prying open my third eye. Prying open my third eye.' The man in the vehicle leaves with the vehicle.


The machine isn't. It also represents what you thought it didn't. The sound of one hand clapping is the sound of a tree falling in the woods or the sound of yuppies discussing if dolce&gabbana is too gay to wear or not. Then they listen to radiohead. Then they play Creep with mimicked voices and mimicked passion. One dame falls. She stops just before them and falls. The doctors told her parents that she died from a brain malfunction. It couldn't handle anymore crapshitcocksuckingmotherfuckinglovelickingcellularphonehonking great music performed by fuckeheads who wouldn't know the backside of a book even it it came running after him with pies, cookies and his mother's buttplugs. She was lucky said the doctor. Not everyone of us gets to die from crappy music. The doctor thinks about the case and reasons that it must have been put there by the government so that the mpaa can make money. He posts it on the internet and two days later the country is brought down by unknown shocktroops, all the uniforms are ostriches. They have crowns on their heads and they sing old russian drinking songs. The insurrectors kills everything in sight and fucks everyone with a pulse in the white house. They then proceed to buttfuck all living men of power with nuclear warheads. Then the firstborns of the revolution eats it and dies fat and rich. Haliburton rebuilds the country.

if it could be explained it would not be true

it could be true, but not to you.


(which sounds like something cheesy romantic hollywood stuff)

the peak would be kaada and patton.


ohwait, there are no peaks because the man IS A TOO FUCKING BIG GENIOUS!

the shrooms you ate weren't strong enough


the acid you dropped wouldn't be cleared by goat the turdburglar.


the truth that is to be told is only the truth for onself. if a truth is universal or can be understood by several people, it isn't the truth, merely truth. if the case is of truth.

that sounds like a standard trip on shrooms...


:D

http://www.salon.com/books/int/2004/07/22/moore/


(yea, you gotta watch a commercial before they let you in but it's worth it.)

slack is the ultimate to wear.

however

i want next part as a .mp3 or transcribed.

i want you to have a paper where it says the most important things you thought to tell.

then i want you to drink yourself loaded on sambucca and metaxa, then smoke a fat joint and tell me what the words are.

that sounds like fun. except for the sambuca, but I'll deal with it. it'll have to be a casette tape recording, as I have no way to record an mp3.

also, I forgot where exactly I left off, and accidentally deleted the first chapter from my outbox, so if you could PM me with the last few sentences...

nah.

not sending them to ya would just make it funnier for me:)

And Turd is an emo.

one strike!

[quote="Bathory's Sainthood"Yes, well, wtf, i'll like all asses in here
======)))$[/quote]

You got all except one of the words in the passwordsentence.




three guesses.


:E

yes it's true. i suck ass.


======)))¤

are you trying to tell me to stop slacking and get on with chapter 2?

What was Chapter 1?

Sorry sir.

You aren't cleared.

slack is the ultimate to wear.


however


i want next part as a .mp3 or transcribed.


i want you to have a paper where it says the most important things you thought to tell.


then i want you to drink yourself loaded on sambucca and metaxa, then smoke a fat joint and tell me what the words are.