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Topics - ThatGreenGentleman

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Apple Talk / A City Born Under The Bad Sun
« on: December 23, 2014, 01:24:30 am »
   Sunlight sneaked in through the slats of the blinds, landing on a pile of blankets on the floor. The shaky groan that came from the blanket bundle was the only sound in the musty old trailer. A man in his mid-twenties emerged from the blankets, blinking against the harsh sunlight and cursing under his breath. He couldn't remember what day it was, maybe it was Tuesday? No way to be sure, he and his friend never kept calendars, hell they didn't even have a clock anywhere.

   "Hey asshole, get up. It's Tuesday. Maybe." He didn't receive a reply. Shrugging he went over to the kitchen counter and cut the leftover coke into lines. He waited a few minutes for his friend to join him. No one came out of the back room. He grabbed an eviction notice and started going to town on the drug.

   About halfway through, his phone began to play Ride of the Valkyries. Shit. He began to scramble back to the pile of blankets on the floor looking for his phone. He had to find it before the song ended. He found it and answered hastily.

   "Mr. Ryker, sir, what a pleasant surprise, it's only Tuesday."
   "Shut it you drugged out shit stain. It's Thursday," replied the voice of Ryker. "I talk, you listen. Now, I bet you're wondering where your friend is, no?"
   "In his room?"
   "Wrong. I have him in my custody. Do you know why?"
   "Did he... not do well with sales?"
   "No. I thought you were the smart one, Sweet Pea."

   Sweet Pea swallowed hard, wondering what his idiot friend did this time. He thought back to anything his friend might've said but nothing was coming to mind. Realization dawned on him and he slowly turned to face the kitchen counter.

   "He didn't give you your share of the money," Sweet Pea said, barely above a whisper.
   "Correct. If you want him back, alive that is, you'd best make back the money he owes me. With interest of course. No one steals from Ryker and gets away with it. Failure to get me my money means your friend here gets to meet a wood chipper. Feet first. Do I make myself clear?"

   The call ended and Sweet Pea stood in the middle of the room, letting the reality of the situation sink in. Get the money or Cash dies.

Or Kill Me / The Golem Maker
« on: March 12, 2014, 03:23:15 am »
Ashes of bones
and a little bit of life all mixed together.
Bake it in blood and sweat in fire hotter than Hell
Give it teeth to bite and eat
and fingers to work and grasp
But give it no eyes to see
and no tongue to speak
Lest the Golem devour your soul.

   Long ago when the earth still whispered and people listened to its secrets there were golems. Such lonely creatures they were, born from fire and earth but no parents. Instead, there were made by people who knew the craft of building golems. No one remembers who made the rules about the craft, such as golems must never have eyes or tongues, perhaps so people wouldn't feel bad about mistreating them. Rules are rules though no matter how ridiculous they seem (such as "Never let a golem be bathed in the light of a full moon") and the Makers held to them with a death grip and no one questioned them. You'd think that with time people would start to treat golems better, maybe allow them to speak or see, but you'd be so very, very wrong. Nothing got better for them, it stayed the same for the most part. Golems were bought and sold, the more rough looking ones used for farm work or blacksmithing or other lowly work while the more well crafted, decorated ones were purchased by the rich to be used as nannies or stewards or entertainment. There were some, however, who served no one whether it be because they escaped or they were no longer needed or whatever the reason. They were the ones who usually turned to more unpleasant type of work.

   Things did change for the better for the golems, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The one to change all of this was a golem called Gol who had a shiny head of metal, which was uncommon for his kind during that time, and he was to be publicly executed with a hammer (supposedly he killed his master) if no one would buy him. Gol would hiss at any who tried to approach him to scare them off and so the hour of his execution was soon upon him and he surely would have died had a voice from the crowd not spoken up.

   "Wait! I wish to buy the golem!" The voice cried. The auctioneer shaded his eyes with a gloved hand, peering into the crowd to see where the voice was coming from. A small, round hand gripped his coat and tugged at it. He looked down. It was a small girl with a pouch of clinking coins. The auctioneer smiled.
   "Are you sure, young lady? This golem is very dangerous and I'm sure a child's allowance wouldn't be enough to buy it," the auctioneer told her in an overly sweet voice. The girl stared blankly at him and he soon grew uneasy.
   "I wish to buy the golem," she repeated with a slight edge to her tone. She then opened the bag to reveal enough money to buy Gol several times over. The face of the auctioneer looked like a gaping fish's. The girl counted out the money and had the man holding the hammer release Gol. The golem hissed at the girl but she merely took his hand and led him home through the winding brick streets and down alley ways. Gol never stopped hissing the entire time.

   Once they arrived outside of a ramshackle hut in an alley the girl looked up at the golem and pointed at a patch of dirt and said, "I know you can't speak but you can write. What's your name?" He let go of her hand and wrote with his index finger in the dirt G O L, though they were a bit shakey and he continued to hiss. She told him that his name wasn't very pretty or creative but she liked that it was simple to remember. The small girl told him she was called Lise.

   The hour grows late but the tale is far from over. Gather 'round tomorrow night for more.

Apple Talk / Where the fuck do I put this?
« on: May 23, 2013, 04:56:49 am »
Hey guys, don't know if you remember this guy but he made a video about labels.

Or Kill Me / The Strange Misadventures of Skull Kid
« on: April 13, 2013, 08:40:46 am »
     This is no story of a hero nor a villain, but rather of a person who just happened to be in all the wrong places at the right time. This person was not a valiant knight who rode into battle on horseback. This person was also not an evil necromancer who stood atop a tower, sending forth an army of undead. The point is is that this person was neither of those things because that would be silly and completely out of place, and you should feel ashamed for thinking this would be about knights or wizards. I mean really, do you take this for some sort of nonsense about swords being stuck in a rock? Where was I? Oh yes, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, this story is about a person whose name is Skull Kid, and he is not good or evil but he tries to do what he sees as right but that just leads him into a very steep downward spiral. Where should we start? At the end and work backwards? No, that will never do and I'll only confuse myself... Perhaps in the middle? That won't work either because that will confuse both you and I. The beginning you say? Why yes, that should work nicely. And here I thought you only came up with foolish ideas, maybe you'll prove yourself to not be a complete fool before the story is over.

     It was a warm summer day in the desert state of Arizona when this all began. An elderly couple, Maria and Juan, lived far out in the desert by themselves. Maria and Juan had been married for 50 years and all of their children had died before they could have children of their own. Sometimes Maria would forget this and wonder when Antonio, their oldest, would settle down with someone before the painful truth would rear its ugly head and her heart would grow heavy with sadness. Juan would drown his sorrows if he could, but the current state of his liver prevented him from doing so. They remained as happy as they could, Juan would tend to the small number of cattle they had and Maria would take long walks through the desert. Each day Maria would look to the sky during her walk and think "Please, send someone to take away our sorrow." Each day she got no reply.

     One day, however, she got a reply (assuming there was someone who actually heard her request). Maria was on a walk and had gotten to the forked tree that had a strange face shaped growth on it (it was positively grotesque for it looked contorted with rage and rather ugly) when a strange black door appeared. It was a plain door with an ordinary brass handle, in fact so unremarkable was this door that you wouldn't have given a second glance if not for the fact that it was standing up perfectly straight and had not been there before. Curious, the elderly Maria approached the black door cautiously before rapping her knuckles against three times then stepping back. The door swung open and out flew a young lad with an impish face which appeared to be covered in black and white makeup to make his face look like a skull. In fact, his whole body seemed to be covered in makeup to make him look like a skeleton. A short round man, who had thrown the lad out the door, muttered under his breath and closed the door behind him with a loud thud and then the black door was gone.

     Maria went to the boy to make sure he was alright and asked his name. The boy looked at her with a blank expression and merely replied with "Skull Kid." She asked him what happened and he seemed to struggle with forming words much less sentences. She smiled a wrinkled smile and ruffled his white hair, helped him to his feet, and took him back to her and Juan's home.

    Juan was shocked by the story Maria told of how Skull Kid had been thrown through a black door that led to nowhere, though both Maria and Juan were surprised to find out that what they thought was makeup was actually how Skull Kid's skin was naturally. Though his skin was strange, Skull Kid brightened Maria and Juan's lives immensely. Juan taught Skull Kid how to sing and play guitar while Maria taught him to read and write. Sometimes the elderly couple called would call him Antonio or Pedro by mistake and sadness would fill their hearts, but only momentarily. With each passing day Skull Kid grew taller and outgrew his clothes and the only clothing Maria could find for him was Juan's old mariachi outfit. The day Maria gave Skull Kid the mariachi clothing, she knew it was time for him to go out in the world, that they couldn't just keep him at their small ranch. With heavy hearts but sincere smiles, the elderly couple bid farewell to the strange boy at a bus stop not far from their house. As Skull Kid boarded the bus, all he took with him was the mariachi clothes he wore and the old guitar Juan gave him. Those were the only things he took with him to Tucson, for they were the only things he would need.

   End of part 1.

Or Kill Me / Stories from TGG
« on: November 21, 2012, 05:46:27 am »
Act 1 Part 1: A Storm is Coming

   He was unsure of what to make of this. When he had returned to the cabin on the border between the woods and the beach she wasn’t there. Instead, there was a note left by her. It rested on the table, just waiting to be read by him. In her beautiful, curvy handwriting the note read as this:

   I’m so sorry. I know you probably won’t forgive me, but please understand that what I’ve done, I’ve done for us. You and I both know the threats Courtland made and that he will not hesitate to make them happen.

   His face paled immediately and he took off running out the front door. Felicity couldn’t possibly be serious about this. The sky was clouded and gray, a storm threatening to make the sea turn violent, but he kept running along the coast. Finding her before it was too late was his top priority at this certain point in time, but then again, when wasn’t it his top priority to always find her, no matter what lifetime it was? “Felicity!” he shouted, but the winds were picking up, causing his voice to be pretty much drowned out. He called out her name until he finally saw her on the cliff overlooking the stormy seas. Picking up his pace, he managed to grab her by the arm before she had the chance to run away.

“Henry? What are you doing here? You need to leave, now. Before Courtland gets here.”

Henry took a few moments to catch his breath before saying, “Have you gone daft? What makes you think giving into his threats is going to make him leave us alone?”

Felicity replied with an irritated tone, “Well you’re not terribly bright yourself, Mr. Sassy-pants. Now get back to the cabin before-“

“Before what? Oh my, so sorry to interrupt my favorite young couple, but I’m just dying to find out,” came the accented drawl of the man named Courtland. Henry and Felicity flinched at the man’s poor word choice of “dying.” Obviously seeing that neither of the two would answer him, Courtland continued talking. “Since the lovely Miss Felicity here said she’d hand over the pendant, I advise that you should do that in the next 35 seconds before there’s one less lover.” Henry glared at the man while Felicity undid the clasp of the pendant that was currently hanging around her neck, and handed it to Courtland. He studied it with a thoughtful eye and a tight smile. “I thank you for your cooperation. Since you both presented me with such a lovely gift, it’s only fair that I give one of equal loveliness back.” Courtland proceeded to quickly draw his revolver from under his coat and shot Henry in the stomach twice. Felicity screamed and Henry fell to the ground as Courtland chuckled lightly. In his last moments Henry whispered “I love you” and then his eyes glazed over and his heart stopped beating. As soon as he died Felicity saw memories she never had flash across her eyes, and finally she understood everything. Past lives and always Henry was there, though he wasn’t Henry in them. She sobbed into his chest crying out “I’m sorry! So sorry, Henry. If I had only known!”

“That’s the problem. You’ll never know until he dies. This always happens in your lives. He always remembers, but you cannot until he has breathed his last.” Felicity glared at Courtland, trying to will him to go away, but to no avail. “I think I shall do you another kindness, since I’m feeling so generous today.” He smirked as he raised his gun for the second time this day and shot her.

The storm came crashing in as soon as the gun went off. Courtland walked away, finally getting what he wanted after 50 lifetimes.

Or Kill Me / More brain crap stories from TGG.
« on: May 17, 2012, 06:33:40 am »
   In the countryside of some country, far far away, an old man sits on the porch of his house. Looking out at the forest in the valley below, listening to the birds nearby, singing a song of sorts, his breath soft and his pulse slow. He turns his attention to the photo album in his lap, and with creaking bones he opens it. He smiles a wrinkled smile at the many memories and allows his mind to wander off down memory lane for a short while...

   He was born in a small house on Baker Street, on a rainy day in June. His parents, immigrants from Romania, named him Tera Lazarovici. His older sister, Byte, shared the same features as him, black hair, brown eyes, roman-like noses, etc. Although they shared the same facial characteristics, they differed in personality. She was a genius of science, he was a genius of the streets, which was important later on in his childhood. When Tera was 11 and Byte was 14, their parents abandoned them. With no where to else to go, they went to their grandfather's house. Their grandfather was a kind man, but very old. They were with him for about a week before he passed away in his sleep. Even though Grandfather Lazarovici died, he left the children his house and his robotics workshop, which was hidden somewhere in the house. For three days Tera and Byte searched the house high and low, until Tera found a crack in the wall. When the siblings pushed on it hard enough, a secret door popped open to reveal a messy workshop with robotic parts everywhere. But what caught their eye was the object on the main worktable. It was an advanced looking robot, that definitely looked more like a human than the robots they saw on the streets everyday. This robot was complete, except it was missing a memory core. However, lucky for them their deceased grandfather had already programmed the memory core and left it next to the robot, almost as if he knew he wouldn't be the one to power up his greatest creation. Byte placed the memory core in the back of the robot's head. As soon as it was in place, the robots eyes flickered on, and became a light blue color. The robot looked at both of the children, and then bowed and introduced himself as Nano before saying, "What is it you require?" The siblings looked at each other before Byte said to Nano, "We require someone to take care of us. Are you up to that task?" Nano nodded his head in understanding and bowed once more to his new masters.

End of part 1.

Or Kill Me / Juggalos don't seem to appreciate scientists...
« on: April 20, 2012, 04:24:58 am »
I think this song just gave me cancer...

Or Kill Me / Story Time.
« on: February 12, 2012, 05:27:02 am »
   The beautiful sounds of a piano vibrated and echoed throughout the halls of the house. The music notes bounced off the walls and ran into each other like playful children. The bright morning light filtered in through the windows, illuminating the room, revealing a black piano. This piano was so well taken care of you could see your reflection in it. The sad but loving melody came from piano which was being played by a young man, who looked very miserable. He looked as if he hadn't shaved for days, his eyes red from the many tears shed over a terrible tragedy. Booze bottles littered the floors, some having spilled their contents on the wooden floor. Curtains as green as the sea fluttered in a breeze, some leaves and fallen flowers drifting into the room. The man looked up from his piano for a moment and caught a glimpse of his wife's photo. His eyes filled with tears as he made his hands into fists and slammed them down onto the keyboard, causing an unsettling sound. "Abigail, My dearly beloved..." he whispered. He and Abigail and known each other since childhood, and had been married only a few months before the accident. He had been a broken man since her death, and her lovely picture constantly reminded him of their stolen future together. He got angry, how dare cruel fate take her away? He picked up a chair and threw it against a wall, smashing into pieces, flipped a table, but when he was about to throw a bottle at the piano he stopped. He wouldn't dare harm that piano, he couldn't, no matter how angry he was. He slowly shuffled back to the piano, sat down, and began to play again. He only knew one song, and he wouldn't learn any other. This was the song that was played during their wedding, and he refused to learn any other.

   Remembering was never so painful.

Or Kill Me / Nightmare Hospital
« on: December 04, 2011, 01:54:55 am »
Nightmare #1: The Crematorium

   He wakes up with his mind feeling a bit foggy. He looks around to see that he's in a hospital room, but something feels a bit off about it. From what he can tell, the room looks like something from a 1920's or 30's hospital (think of the Bioshock hospital, but not in ruin). He sits up and tries to stand but his wrists are strapped to the hospital bed. He starts to panic and shakes his arms furiously, trying to get loose. He stops when he hears the door open, thinking someone has come to help. Sadly, they came for a different purpose. He tries to form the words so he can convey to the two nurses and doctor, who are also 1920-30's themed, about how distressed he is about being confined to the bed. But before he can say anything the doctor says "Strap him down tightly, I don't want him moving around." The nurses nod their head in understanding and proceed to strap the man's legs, arms, and torso down so tightly that if he tried to struggle he'd get leather burned. the fear of what was going on showed in his eyes. One of the nurses then carted in a table that was covered in various syringes. The nurses laughed as the doctor began to stick the syringes in the man. He was injected with a strange green liquid all over his body, including his eyes. He began to writhe in pain, but he was still alive. The doctor looked disappointed and the told the nurses to "cart this one down to the morgue" and left the room. The nurses grinned maliciously as the moved the bed down the hall and into the elevator that led to the morgue. As this happened he screamed for someone to help him, but the other patients only had glazed over looks and did nothing but sit in their wheelchairs. When they reached the morgue, the same doctor was waiting for them, and opened up an oven. The nurses unstrapped him, but whatever it was that he had been injected with made him unable to move. He groaned in pain as they laid him in the oven. The closed and locked the door, and turned it on. He had regained some control over his body but it was too late. he banged on the door and shouted for them to let him out, but he faintly heard them laughing on the other side of the oven door. The flames licked at his skin at first, and then he was completely engulfed in flame, dying a slow and painful death.

   When I woke up, my entire body had a painful burning sensation.

Or Kill Me / Horrible Fairy Tales For One and All...
« on: October 23, 2011, 05:46:41 am »
... With ThatGreenGentleman as your dashingly handsome narrator. Now zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket so I can tell the damn story.

   Twas the night before Halloween and all was quiet in the small town of Lurchville. All the lights within the town were off, except the streetlamps that eerily lit the streets. There was a fog that had seemed to roll in only a week before and had yet to disperse. Not a soul was stirring, not a peep, save for the house that belonged to one Artemisia Strenold and her husband Jerome. They had spent nearly the entire month digging up graves and finding scrap metal and knick-knacks and doo-dads, for their creations. For you see, Artemisia and Jerome were barren, so they decided to make children of their own instead of adopting. However, if you asked anyone in town, especially their neighbors, the married couple was called "twisted", "creepy", "sick", etc. Upon the table where Artemisia and Jerome were working, there lay two small bodies. The flesh of the two bodies was covered in stitches where they had to attach the pieces. There was metal around their bones, to keep the brittle bones of the deceased from breaking. Storm clouds rolled in at an alarming rate, lightning and thunder blazing like guns. Artemisia and Jerome had waited for this day for years, the day when they would finally have children. They pulled on the chains and table rose, ever so slowly towards the lightening. They waited a few moments, and then the lightening struck. When the table came back down, their new children's hearts began to beat. The children, a boy and girl, both opened their eyes to reveal white irises, solid black pupils, and a black ring to complete the chilling gaze they had. The new parents quickly gave them names, Morticia and Lucien. The children soon picked up on how to display emotions, what they liked and disliked, everything they needed to know. Truly happy was the completely formed family, though the ending is not what they would've ever expected.

   The next night was Halloween, and the family decided to go out. However, the other residents of Lurchville had looks of horror and disgust, as the strange looking children and their strange parents walked down the streets, trick or treating like everyone else. Angered and fearing them, they soon formed an angry mob. Trying to protect their children, Artemisia and Jerome told Morticia and Lucien to run away. The parents tried their best to fend off the mob, but were badly beaten.

   Trying to find someplace to hide, the twins decided to hide in an old, decaying windmill. This might've worked, if the mob hadn't been right on their tail. The terrified children went all the way to the top floor and out onto the balcony of the windmill. As they looked at the crowd drawing near, they could feel their hearts beating faster and faster. The mob poured some sort of liquid at the base of the structure, and lit a match. Morticia did not know what it was, but Lucien did and his eyes got wide with terror. Within seconds the windmill was ablaze. The flames licked at their skin, and they screamed in pain and for the parents to save them. Morticia's heart began to beat so fast that it burst. Lucien, now alone in the burning inferno, held his sister's once again dead body and cried helplessly. His skin began to burn, and then his heart too, began to beat wildly and burst. His body slumped over his sister's, though whether it was because of rigor mortis, or because of his strong will to never let go of his sister, he held her tightly. The windmill then collapsed in on their corpses. And burned until it was nothing but embers left.

   Artemisia and Jerome had followed the mob all the way to the windmill. They had watched they're children burn alive (though their children actually died of their hearts exploding). Artemisia screamed out for her children while Jerome cried until his entire body was shaking. The entire town of Lurchville laughed cruelly at the grieving parents. When the townspeople left, the parents slowly approached the embers. They looked upon the forms of their dead children. The only reason they could see it was because of the metal they had once placed around their bones. Artemisia and Jerome decided the townspeople would pay. They wouldn't outright kill them like in the horror movies, oh no. They were going to make them suffer, like their children had in the inferno that had once been the windmill. The townspeople would pay, and they would pay with interest.

   Twas the night before Halloween, and though I disbelieved that it could not be, it was unfortunately so.

Or Kill Me / ¿Por qué?
« on: October 01, 2011, 01:38:04 am »
   Fuck you people at school, always walking too slow and holding everyone up! Fuck you people at school who randomly stand in the hallways talking about "What a whore Jane Doe" is. Fuck you people making out in the hallway for no reason, especially in the middle of the hallway. What do you want me to do, play limbo to get past you while you're sucking someone's face into yours? I have to shove people out of the way just to get anywhere, but you know what? I make it look FABULOUS. When there's a group of people talking in the center of the hallway, I walk right through them and they just yell "Fucking bitch! Watch where you're going!" And I yell back at them "BITE ME DOUCHEBAG!" and then they look as if I kicked a puppy into traffic. They can call me an asshole all they want, but it's their fault for always being in my way like a bicyclist being in a car's way. If you can't walk fucking fast enough, stay to the side or I will kick your ass to get moving. Make me late to class and I WILL EAT YOUR HEART OUT WITH SOMEONE SAYING "FINISH HIM!"  :argh!:

Rant over.

Or Kill Me / What is this? I don't even...
« on: September 30, 2011, 08:03:58 am »
   Waking up in an unfamiliar place, the boy notices that it's dark. All around is pitch black, but he can still see perfectly clear. The only problem is that there is nothing to see, other than the pitch black of course. The small child got to his feet, and began to walk, only hearing the clack-clack of his shoes. It seems like he was walking forever until he saw something in the distance. It was a faint light, but it was something instead of nothing. The boy ran towards the light, until it's shape came into view. It was lamppost, and next to it was the most comfortable chair you could ever imagine.  Upon seeing this, he felt a little disappointed. You would feel disappointed too if all you found was a chair and a lamppost instead of a way out of the darkness. He decided to rest in the chair for a bit, and as he approached he didn't notice that as he got closer to the lamppost, the larger his shadow became (not like he would've noticed anyways since it was so dark). As the small child sat in the chair, he pondered about how he got here and where he had come from. He didn't get very deep into his thoughts, because his shadow stepped into the light. It looked exactly like him, except it was pitch black, with red eyes, and what appeared to be small horns. Startled at the sight, the boy could do nothing as his shadow shoved him deep into the chair, until the boy was enveloped in the chair. He thought he would suffocate , but found that he breathe just fine. Soon his mind was engulfed with visions of a world that was familiar yet foreign to him. It was a place with blue skies and blue oceans, a place with mountains and grass. A place with sunlight and warmth, which was very much the opposite to this world of darkness and cold. He began to cry at the vision of a world he wanted so much to be a part of, until his mind was struck with the other images. Images of war, death, pestilence, and pain. He cried even harder and rejected that world that only moments ago he wanted so badly. He wanted to stay within the chair, for it was warm and somewhat comforting, like a cradle of safety that you never want to leave. Unfortunately for him, the same pair of black hands that had put him there dragged him back to the cold and dark realm where he started. When he opened his eyes, the red glaring eyes welcomed him back to the darkness. The boy realized that he was in this dark world because he was neither living nor dead. He and his shadow wandered off into the darkness away from the comforting chair and lamppost, he was at peace with not wanting to be a part of the world with warm light so long as he had his shadow to keep him company in the dark.

   And then I woke up and realized it was all a dream. But it was quite a comforting dream in a strange way.

Yes, I actually had this dream, more than once actually.

Or Kill Me / R is for Rant...
« on: June 11, 2011, 08:54:20 am »
   Religions irritate me. Especially Catholicism and Christianity. Mormons are a close second, but this rant is about the first two I listed. Sorry Mormons, no rant about you. On with the rant! I've pretty much grown up in communities that involved either Catholicism, Christianity, or both. Needless to say, most of them were, and probably still are, assholes. I never believed in either religion despite being baptized Catholic, but that was really only done to make my grandparents happy. Always thought it was silly and ridiculous to believe in a supernatural being that lived in the clouds. I still do think that. Because really, a bearded guy who lives in clouds who watches what everyone is doing all the time, and still hasn't been spotted by airplanes, doesn't sound silly to you? Hell, even religions were started when we were too dumb to even think things through clearly and people hallucinated at least two or three times a day. In this day and age, I really thought people would have moved on from religion to more important things, but no. Everything is either about God or baby Jesus, and it just makes me sick. I literally can't go on to FaceBook (even though I don't use it often) without seeing some status update or whatever, that has to do with "accepting God into your heart" or "Jesus will always be there for you!" Bullshit.

   Everyone thinks that God is everything that is good and holy, but to me he sounds pretty Malevolent. And kind of an ass. When Adam and Eve ate the apple and gained knowledge, he cast them out of Eden just because they were no longer ignorant. Yet people still worship him. Natural disasters happen and people say it was/is the work of God, even though people died. Yet they still fucking worship him. They say everyone is made from God and are his children, yet they mistreat each other thinking that they are better than others and don't treat each other equally. Yet they still worship him. They believe in teaching kids about staying pure instead of teaching them to protect themselves, and they act all surprised when their daughter is pregnant. Hell, even one of my best friends has a purity ring. When I asked him why is buying into that shit he said, "Because being pure until marriage is important." I literally face palmed the table... with my face. Sad thing is, is that me and my friend can't have debates about religion without it getting to the point where we get on each others nerves that we're practically ready to start punching each other in the face.

   What I actually find hilarious about the Christians and the Catholics is that when they say that in order to protect marriage, gay marriage must be banned. If they want to protect marriage so badly they'd make it illegal for heterosexuals to get divorced. And really, if we're all made from God or from his image, and someone is homosexual, transgender, etc. Then wouldn't that him those things too, even just a little bit? Because apparently, Catholics and Christians have this idea in their heads that their God is a straitlaced kind of guy, who thinks homosexuals, transgenders, etc. are the devil's work. Which again, complete bullshit. Every time I hear someone say something that gays, transgenders, etc. are an abomination and should all die, I call them out on that. I say things that make them embarrassed for making such ignorant and bigoted comments.

   So you know what? Fuck you, and fuck your "God" cause I don't need him or believe in him.

Does not put up with your BS, because really, just who are you trying to fool?

Or Kill Me.

Or Kill Me / Inspiration has struck... Possibly, maybe...
« on: April 09, 2011, 08:19:16 am »
This I suppose is going to be a short story. Don't like it? Then GTFO, cause I'm not gonna deal with anyone's shit right now, or else I'll have to kill a mother fucker.

Dedicated to someone important, not saying who.

   There was a time when The City was whole. Though that was many years ago, and is really only remembered as a fairy tale for youngsters. But in a certain section of The Slum, there's an old man who remembers what The City used to be like, he'd even seen it fall. He was in fact, part of the reason why it DID fall. He knew secrets most people from his time never knew, and they will probably never know, considering he is the last of his generation. He has more wisdom, experiences, and more memories in his thumb nail than most people in either side of The City have in their entire existence. He keeps a pocket watch with him at all times, because it has the picture of his dearly beloved in it. It also has something inscribed in it too, but we'll come back to that later. Oh yes, I think I should tell you his name so I don't have to refer to him as "he", or "him" the entire time. This old man's name is Juris.
   Now Juris has always been a kind man, generous too. He would always give food to the hungry, have a bed open for someone on the streets. But perhaps we should take a look into his younger days, just before The City had fallen. The year is 20XX and Juris is a young man, freshly out of university. As he was walking down a street in downtown, bustling with people, the snow was falling again. It wasn't unusual, considering it was a few days before Christmas. He had always loved the snow, probably because it reminded him of the very rare and brief, good memories of his childhood. He was heading to a very "unusual", rather "unique" store, where he worked. The only reason why he had accepted a job at this unique store was because the person who owned it was someone he had fallen head over heels for.
   Now this person, is the same person who's picture is in the pocket watch, but I'm getting ahead of myself here. Where was I? Oh yes, now I remember. Juris opened the shop's door, the bell rung. Inside this peculiar shop, were strange creatures in cages in varying sizes, old tomes that are possibly centuries old, odd lab equipment that was half off (because of the shifty jobs they had been previously used for), and many odd-bits that are unidentifiable. He called out, "Anyone here?" and a muffled noise from the back room was the reply he had been looking for. "Juris! It's about fucking time you got here you lazy-ass." The rude person saying this rude statement was the one whom he loved. This rude person was buried under a mountain of books that had fallen upon them.
   After he helped the rude person out from under the mess, they told him he had something big planned. This plan had stemmed from something he/she (I'm keeping the gender a secret because I can) had heard from a reliable source. As he/she told Juris of this plan, something sinister was also planing something. And as these two plans would collide, all hell would break loose, but no could have known that, no one at all.

End of Part One.

Or Kill Me / Just some half-assed rant...
« on: January 23, 2011, 03:34:36 pm »
As the title says, this is exactly what this is. Maybe it'll turn into something amazing or just a total flop. Lately, the thing, rather person, who inspired hatred in me every time they just kept talking and talking, or laughed their annoying laugh, (I am talking about one of my annoying relatives, just so you guys know if you were wondering) is not around, which I suppose is a good thing for my mental health. But this person, I probably hate with a passion or something like that, and because I had so much pent up hatred, I could make somewhat decent rants. But now I can't seem to find the hatred, and I feel like the shell of my former self, and blah blah blah. So far this isn't turning into an amazing rant like I had hoped... oh well.I might as well stop here before I make this into a total shit pile, (pretty sure I already did) I think I'll go make pancakes... Or TACOS!!!


Oh, and here you guys, have a My Little Ponytm  :hosrie:

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