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Messages - Eater of Clowns

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There was a yo-yo store next to the restaurant I went to in Concord, NH a few weeks ago.

They were selling $200 yo-yos.   :sad:

Or Kill Me / Re: NIGGERS!
« on: Today at 12:13:56 pm »
I've seen some pretty aggravating RAW hero worship before, but I have to say that this is the first encounter I've had with a guy who hates gays because he wants RAW to buttsex him.

The funniest part is for all the self congratulating he's doing about saying what he wants to say, he has no awareness of everything he's saying without intending to.

If this is about the 30 foot length of squirrel tails I sent you, I'm sorry, I really thought you'd like it.

In Communist America, DA POLICE fucks YOU:

Rhode Island, a couple of years ago from outside the Twin River casino if I'm not mistaken. His justification was that she spit at him. Can't recall the outcome of the case against him.

Why's everyone get all offended when they find out that I hate them?

I hate 7 billion people. Get over yourself; you aren't that special.

I am the main character.  Some walk-on villain parks illegally and gives me  red-ass, I'm gonna get offended.  This is a direct violation of my contract.

If they didn't want it parked on they shouldn't have a put a curb there. That hatchback defied space. It fit three grown men over six feet tall and fit into a spot intended for shopping carts. It gave one of the construction workers vertigo because he thought he was viewing it from a mile up. I never even sold that hatchback - I lost it, like a set of car keys.

I still don't believe you're really over 6' tall.  It is an optical illusion of some kind, or perhaps you are just very tall for your height.

Feels like a bit of a waste walking around with all that height all the time. I store most of it up in my teeth and just use it as I need to.

My hating a person is like the perfect attendance award for the human race.

Why's everyone get all offended when they find out that I hate them?

I hate 7 billion people. Get over yourself; you aren't that special.

I am the main character.  Some walk-on villain parks illegally and gives me  red-ass, I'm gonna get offended.  This is a direct violation of my contract.

If they didn't want it parked on they shouldn't have a put a curb there. That hatchback defied space. It fit three grown men over six feet tall and fit into a spot intended for shopping carts. It gave one of the construction workers vertigo because he thought he was viewing it from a mile up. I never even sold that hatchback - I lost it, like a set of car keys.

Why's everyone get all offended when they find out that I hate them?

I hate 7 billion people. Get over yourself; you aren't that special.

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Ingress
« on: September 19, 2014, 11:29:02 pm »
I believe you can submit suggestions for new portals.

I did, that's how I got the one on my street. The process takes a very long time. It's just that I'm surrounded by tenement houses and pharmacies.   :lulz:

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Ingress
« on: September 19, 2014, 07:18:40 pm »

The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Ingress
« on: September 19, 2014, 07:14:35 pm »
Man this game sounds a lot more fun in big cities. I have one portal on my street, that I created, and the nearest ones are miles away.

Also, I hoard my portal keys. I have a half dozen or so from Colombia. I can look in on them from time to time and see how they're doing and look back on my trip.  :)

The aliens are all partying and we aren't invited.   :sad:

Or Kill Me / Re: NIGGERS!
« on: September 18, 2014, 10:29:32 am »
Damn that is edgy as fuck.

Literate Chaotic / Re: Comic Reviews and discussions
« on: September 17, 2014, 05:07:04 pm »
Yeah, I found my desire to follow Crossed waned pretty much when I began struggling to stay enthusiastic about any of it, except Si Spurrier's online epic Wish You Were Here. It's  by far and away the best arc, and closest to Ennis's original, twisted vision. WYWH delivered, every week with short, but quality serialisation, but it ended a few weeks ago. (good ending too) So I've been following Spurrier's other ongoing free online offering, Disenchanted, and I'm pleased to say it's up to his usual standard of complex, but followable plot driven Fairy (I know, right?) Shantytown shenanigans. It has the potential to become truly massive, and has growing wiki support so it looks like it's going to run and run. Avatar only have Disenchanted being serialised at the moment, but as a showcase for their stable of talent, their free webcomics are the Jewels in the Avatar Crown. Warren Ellis's FreakAngels is a staggeringly epic piece of literature, and beautifully drawn and painted by Paul Duffield, whose artwork I'd put up there next to Jacen Burrows. And Ellis seems to be able to manage long, epic Graphic novels with an ease and flair that's up there with Neil Gaiman easily. Grant Morrison is peerless when he's on form, but his consistency hits very flat spots, and his ability to tie all the loose ends up in a satisfactory ending is his obvious weak point (Invisibles) But I'm still a big fan of his work.

But Alan Moore is a comic book God. He's at least a generation older than  . . . . well, he must be older than Stan Lee was, maybe even  . . . well, his Methusalah like beard suggests well over 100 years, and he probably augments his vitality with mainlined Chaos Magick from some ancient Hebrew God he has trapped in a lead box somewhere. His stunning work on "From Hell" has me convinced he actually WAS Saucy Jack himself, how else would he know all that minute little details? If the Victorian Police who worked the (first ever forensic investigation any Police Squad) case were around today, they'd haul the old bastard in for some very serious questioning. But enough speculation, Moore practically invented the Graphic Novel format with "Watchmen", and set the bar so high that the only worthy peer competition was Gaiman's Sandman. He also took a well ropey Monster comic that no-one else wanted to bother with, because frankly, the whole thing was based around a walking, talking, depressed compost heap looking for revenge upon some hokey Frankenstienian Mad Professor, who's Niece he was in love with, and turned it into the flagship for any quality excercise in ret-conning old characters, "Swamp Thing". That was his opening into DC, and the American Comic Market, and the title ran and ran, outselling Batman, and Soops and making the other DC writers up their fucking game considerably. Then there's V for Vendetta, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Watchmen, Promethea, and the launch of DC's "Vertigo" titles on the back of "Watchmen" I think, because it was certainly aiming for a different demographic than DC was catering for at the time.

Vertigo paved the way for a whole wave of British writers and Artists that took America by storm really. Warren Ellis, Grant Morrison, Neil Gaiman, Jonathan Hickman, Brett Ewins, Mark Millar, Pete Milligan, Jamie Hewlett, Paul Cornell, And artists like Simon Bisley, Kevin McNiell, Bryan Talbot, Sean Philips, John MCcrea, the list really is endless. But more than anything, I think he inspired a whole generation of young British Talent, to write, write, write.

And before he even had a sniff at the American market, he was instrumental in the developement of 2000 AD, the benchmark for all those Brits who went across the pond, most of whom (Ellis being the main exception) had cut their teeth on Judge Dredd, Strontium Dogs, Slain, or ABC Warriors. Moore wrote some beautifully crafted serialised stuff for Fleetway and 2000AD like Halo Jones, Skizz, and lots of Dredd. But the most entertaining thing he's been involved in lately is his ongoing epic squabblefest with fellow Chaote and writer of no mean caliber, Grant "pass the anusol" Morrison. When interviewed, niether of them need much of a nudge in the other's direction to add some slow burning but long lasting fuel on the pyre of their Mage-Wars.

I'll drop this quote from Sci-Fi stalwart, Michael Moorcock,, regarding Morrison who in all fairness, DID start the whole bitchfest about derivitism or some such highbrow bollocks by being so fucking precious and sensitive, and continued to "not really give a shit" just as painfully for like, over 25 years now.  Anyway, Moore's friend, Michael Moorcock, on Grant Morrison.

 :roll:  ~ “I’ve read the work of Grant Morrison twice. Once when I wrote it. Once when he wrote it."~ Shots fired!

(Moore and Moorcock have almost come to blows over which one of them Morrison has plagarised more over the years)

"The only bone of contention between me and Michael Moorcock is which of us Grant Morrison is ripping off the most. I say that it’s Michael Moorcock, he says it’s me. We’ve nearly come to blows over it, but I’m reluctant to let it go that far"

That's very prudent of you Alan. Moorcock may be 20 years older than you, but he's the size of a Grizzly Bear.

Moore, in July, 1990 ~ "The reason I haven’t spoken about Grant Morrison generally ( :eek: ) is because I’m not very interested in him, and I don’t really want to get involved with a writer of his calibre in some sort of squabble"  ~ Well, how's that coming along then Mr Moore?  :evil:

And a little something from the long winded and very erudite Gwant Mawissun on accusations (Not from Moore I hasten to add) he copied Moore's style to get an industry break in America.

Morrison ~ *clears throat* ~ "Doing my own approximation of the “in” style to get gigs on Marvel UK books was, I thought, a demonstration of my range, versatility and adaptability to trends, not the declaration of some singular influence it has subsequently been distorted into over four decades – mostly by Alan Moore and his supporters, in what can sometimes feel like a never-ending campaign to undermine my personal achievements and successes and to cast me, at all times, in a subsidiary role to the Master"  :kingmeh:

Ouchy wowchy Grant, would you like some whine with that cheese?  :) What? there's more?

Morrison on Moorcock ~
~"On the basis of the “couple” of things of mine he claims to have read a long time ago, to insist that not only do I rip him off on a regular basis but his friend Michael Moorcock too? Can anyone tell me from which Michael Moorcock novels “Zenith” and “Animal Man” were plagiarized? (And if Moorcock made any complaints to DC in the ’90s, I never heard about them."

"Not content with deliberately misinterpreting a mere ten pages of my fifteen hundred page comic series, Moorcock – this “sweet, sweet man” – continues to this day to jeer and spit abuse. Here’s Alan Moore’s mate Michael Moorcock"   

Morrison quoting Moorcock, on Morrison  ~ "As far as I’m concerned my image of Grant Morrison is of someone wearing a mask, a flat hat and a striped jersey and carrying a bag marked SWAG.” ~

"Please Miss, Moorcock and Moore keep picking on me!" ~ Miss "Oh do sack up and stop whining Morrison, it's not very becoming. Now dry your eyes, blow your nose, and just ignore them."

""But . . but Miss!~ "MY practice of Chaos Magic during the 1980s and early ’90s clearly played into Alan Moore’s decision to declare himself a magician in 1993."! ~

Miss (probably Karen Berger) "I WON'T tell you again Morrison, you sound like a smug little Princess"

GM.~ "But it's just as plausible as Alan Moore’s outlandish attempts to claim that my entire career rests on two stories he wrote 30 years ago!" *sniffs*

Miss Berger ~"Right, that's it, you're fired!" fuck off, and take that pile of shite "Gideon Stargrave" with you . . . send in the Ellis boy on your way out"

Additional quotes by "Miss Karen Berger "based entirely on speculation, and gleeful faux-spite towards Grant Morrison.

Whom I actually revere as a writer, admire as a Chaote and a Thelemite, but I'm buggered if I can follow that garbled Porridge wog patois he speaks with (And no doubt campaigns for the dissolution of the Union with) Probably got all his wedge invested nicely in North Sea Oil too . . . .

 . . . . . Well you're not having it Scotland, We English found it, drilled it, and sold it to the fucking Ruskies and the Septics. You can pay $20 a gallon for the shit we import back from the Dutch.

Same as we do! And make no mistake me Boyo, we can still jump on any Terrorist / Republican sedition nonsense, just as hard as Longshanks or Good King Billy ever did!

SO, if you all vote "Yes" we're putting a 60% Export duty on Buckfast, just because we can! Can? Cans of Tennant's Super are to be rescheduled as a Class A Drug South of the Border, so you can keep the "oul Purple Can" to yourselves. And Irn Bru. (We only used to ever use it as Screenwash anyway . . . )

You can still have the concession for selling "Lucky Heather" to the Gyppos, and we'll make sure the EU still buy all your cheap, blended Scotch. Malt Whisky however, can now only be sold through the Royal Franchise of  "The Duchy of Cornwall Ltd" now. Got it? We'll send Harry Hewitt up with the details on Friday, if you're not still in The Union . . . Got that?  . . . . .

Wow, where did all that come from? Must be some Nationalistic Jingoism left from my WWI You tube comments thread,where I've been roundly bashing Septics, Belgians, Prussions Serbs and of course, the fucking French for  . . .well, over 2 years longer than WW1 actually lasted now.

Apologies to any Scotsmen I may have inadvertently abused, offended, or outraged with that dyspeptic little outburst, especially my man Pent the Gent, probably paddling covertly round the Border Coastline like a pent up pissed off Armada of paddling Tartan Terror representing the possible magnitude of what could quite credibly become The Scottish Navy's S.B.S. Or even the Whole Scot's Sea Defence deployment

Who needs English Trident equipped Nuclear Subs, when you have Pent paddling a Claymore equipped Tartan Kayak around Scapa Flow  In fact, I can see Denmark and Norway stepping up their own Sea Defences on the strength of that alone. I seem to have wandered a little bit off topic, but it's the vote today. And you know what? No-one in England really gives much of a fuck either way. Props if you boot the Westminster Crew to the kerb, it'll be worth it, if only to watch Cameron Baaaw and bleat like the little pissy panted bitch he is. It'll leave his coalition of Cawksukkin Cunts completely rekt, and what with a General Erection just around the corner too. I can see Boris leading the Tories this time. Like a Giant, Albimo Downs syndrome kid with ADHD and pockets full of Ritalin. Yet another Bullington Bastard at the Helm. Unless something awfully loud and "splodey happens in the House of Commons in the meantime. Metaphorical my scratchy English arse, I mean Semtex. Shape Charge. Big Dirty Barrels of six inch nails, tipped with depleted uranium, and radioactive ball bearings. And if anything does happen, It wont be the Muzzies, it will be the disgruntled Militant tech savvy "Phones 4 you" Crew, with backing from the redundant Lib Dem Shadow Cabinet. Who now have a Liberal Party reduced back down to the popularity they had under Jeremy Thorpe. The Dog murdering little Iron. Norman Scott, thy poor dead Labrador art avenged. OK, I'm done for now, I have to go and hunt down a Doner Kebab and a four pack of Stella Artois. Bye fer nao!


GIGANTIC storm coming through, thanks to Mexico not controlling their hurricanes and letting them out of the yard.

Sky is black, we're supposed to get 6" of rain by morning, and this shit is supposed to continue until Monday night, which means we'll lose a bunch of roads.

Now you know how we feel.


I mean, after that little warning shot called Sandy you sent us a few years ago to see if Richter was paying attention turned and decided to have a Jersey Shore vacation it was only a matter of time before your rain divinity backfired.

The rains are coming to Arizona. A flood will spread across the land, seeping into the withered pores of the desert's skin. Sand-tainted effluvia will run deep into Tucson's mummified heart, swelling its size until it bursts like over-ripe fruit or a body left in the sun too long.

The rains are coming to Arizona. The steady drumming, the unending pummeling of the desert will cover other noises. It will mask the beating of Tucson's awakened, swollen heart. As that creaking, ancient organ squelches and contracts with renewed malevolence it will pump more vile pus into its spore making. Tucson will bloom like mold on damp walls. It will send its spores into the sewers. Into the sea. Into your lungs. And it will thrive, torpid and malicious, until the rains recede.

The rains are coming to Arizona. Everything will be covered in that metallic-sand scented slime that is Tucson's spreading disease. The rains are coming but they will not last long enough to drown Tucson. And when the rains are spent, when the sky is once more bare, then the sun returns. That burning ball of hate and evil will pound, pound, pound Earth until the last bit moisture has been wicked away, burned to steam and then nothing. And when everything is as desiccated as it was before the rain, when it has all withered once more into an inert husk . . . then beware the spores.

Damn good writing there, CPD. Damn good.

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