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Topics - The Wizard Joseph

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Discordian Recipes / DECLASSIFIED drink recipes by TWJ
« on: October 03, 2015, 04:39:21 am »
Just posted this one in Discordian Society 2015 FB group. Might as well more stably mirror here. I'll add more by and by as those darn FOIA requests come due. Hope all yalls enjoy!

The Wizard Joseph's Golden Apple Potion

Elements of the Operation:
1 Ltr of sour mix
1 Lb of fine clover honey
1 bottle of The Knot 100 proof Irish whiskey
1-5  1 Oz bottles or measured shots of Fireball cinnamon whiskey
Large supply of Manzanita Sol apple soda or other, more authentic, Mexican apple soda equivalent to a 12 pack
1 empty 2 Litr bottle.

Step 1:
In large sauce pan heat sour mix and honey, stirring constantly, until honey is fully  dissolved, DO NOT boil. Allow to cool until no longer steaming by removing from heat and continuing to stir. Pour cooled mixture into 2 Liter bottle and add The Knot and then add Fireball to taste, none is fine. Fireball makes it stronger of alcoholic content and flavor, but cinnamon whiskey is not for everyone. Contents of bottle should be vigorously shaken for aeration proir to serving if you don't have a shaker for step 2

Step 2:
Add solid ice cubes and liquor mix to shaker glass, about 2 oz per serving.
Add about 3-4 oz apple soda per serving, cap and shake vigorously for about 8 seconds while holding cap down firmly.

Set down shaker on table and ease pressure off the cap, cap should pop off gently and readily or you used too much or too little soda respectively.

Pour into Collins glass over hollowed bar ice or solid cubes, NOT crushed ice.

Recipe serves appx 24-30 people. At full "5x cin strength" each is about a shot or beer and a half by alcoholic content, but the honey seems to speed alcohol uptake. Best to savor, but should not rough the stomach if you desire a bender unless you are sensitive to cinnamon.

Makes for a happy, giggly drunk and honey taste lingers on lips.

You're welcome!  ;)

Or Kill Me / I Must Know More, For There Must Be No More.
« on: October 02, 2015, 06:03:19 am »
In my guts I know why I woke depressed and stayed so. I get terse when depressed and was fortunate not to have to deal with people much during my work day. Even now I'm in a very dark mood, joyless and angry. I can still feel, it's not a total eclipse, but there's been a very bad moon risen over me today. This evening, about a hour before I went home, I found out about the college shooting in Oregon late this morning.

Something snapped.

Shootings are the
new normal.

This cannot stand.

Somehow in my heart,
I already knew.

I don't care who chooses to believe me anymore than I care who may disbelieve. By all accounts I've seen so far the shooting started right around the time I was just waking for work. I almost never remember my dreams from deep slumber in terms of particular details, but sometimes I feel the last bits of my dreams as I wake. I remember feeling as though something had been kept from me or like a bunch of "people" had crowded in front of something I needed to see. There was a distinct sense of manipulation or betrayal, and desperate anger.

I remember feeling a dire urgency and although I didn't really have the time I thought about diving back into sleep. Sometimes I can pick back up this way and even return some memory from the interrupted dream. Instead I chalked the half rembered feeling up to thinking about my past while going to sleep in preparation for writing more of it this weekend. I figured so for most of the day. I also figured the depression was a similar reaction, but this felt different.
It rankled.
It still does.
It has both,
teeth AND legs.

I've got the basic story down as well as a fairly detailed Yahoo article can do, and likewise am still finding things out. I'm not "here" to worry about the deets right now.

There will be a season for
that and more.

Right now this is about the trend I'm seeing and what it represents.

I copied the attached pic from Yahoo. It's going everywhere right now anyway and figure they wouldn't mind me borrowing it to make my non-profit point.

The trend is higher highs and higher lows quarter over quarter and the recent uptick indicates a terribly bloody bull market indeed. Moloch has learned to franchise and it's opening more new wounds every year. Schools would be what you might call tempting targets, neh? I wonder whose dollars are riding this bull. I do.

All mystic bullshit aside, it's too much blood for the market to ultimately bear and MUST BE STOPPED.

But how? The hordes of shrieking, egotistical and terrified monkeys taking various sides in the inevitable shitstorms to come are now a major part of the problem, and they have cash! LOTS OF CASH IN A POLITICAL WAR-ZONE AND A NEED TO BE RIGHT!!

Actually stopping the trend is impossible without a serious market intervention. But how? What is driving this freak storm up to such heights? How can we examine and understand the forces at work in an engine while it's already malfunctioning and running wild?

Wanna lose a hand?
Heads are popular
Thanks "ISIS"!

Maybe it's just me,
but could it be the sea
of blood we've wrought
elsewhere coming home?

It's all bound to return

No time to think about that shit now though! Oh no! There's no plug to pull, no emergency stop switch, no fire suppression or pressure vents, and it would seem the Boss' message box is full.

I only know that
if I want there to
be No More;
I must Know More.

Even if I can't figure out how to stop it I have to try.

There must be

should any try,
do not fail.
I hate being
when I'm busy,
and it seems
I've been quite mad
all day.

Apple Talk / Apocrypha Discordia
« on: September 10, 2015, 03:07:26 am »
Apocrypha Discordia
A collection of mythological rumors and and historical asides that either expand upon the otherwise unmentioned details of a given story or claim special knowledge of an historic event "left out of the history books".

The annals of Dustrael, last of the watchers would qualify. AD may be a worthy fictitious reference book for my own story lines. It might also make a fun project proposal to pitch to

Sample story from:
The Annals of Dustrael,
Last of The Motherfukkin' Grigori (sic)

The Real Story: Adonis
Section 1

Now some of the few monkeys on this grubby mudball that even know the name of Adonis know at least one actual fact about the fool. He was really pretty looking.  He was SO damn fine that even the goddesses just had to check him out, like all the time. Yes, pretty he was. He was so pretty that Aphrodite, Miss Thang herself, went and started seeing him like ALL the time. This got to be a problem because all the other goddesses started slackin' and jaw jackin' on about how good he was lookin' and how Aphrodite was always hogging up all his face time AND all his below the waist time. Now Aphrodite ain't really into sharing, not part of a goddess' upbringing.

The goddesses were all so obsessed that the male gods weren't getting any at all, not Ares, not Hades, definitely not Hephaestius' gimpy ass (sic again..). Even big daddy Zeus noticed that Hera was spending an awful lot more time chatting with the other goddesses and taking long trips into the countryside below Olympus. This suited Zeus just fine mostly. Zeus always gets his and now he didn't have to sneak around as much. Problem was all the male Gods were getting uptight and ornery as fuck, especially grump-ass Hades and that hot headed little snot Ares. Both of them just HATED Adonis. Ares hated him because Aphrodite had been his main squeeze, and now wouldn't stop playing monkey-stick with Adonis. Hades hated him maybe more because he had to listen to Persephone goin' on and on about him anytime she was in Tartarus, about half a year at a time.

Thing is, Adonis might have been pretty, for sure now, but what most who maybe heard of him didn't bother to look up was that he was also a product of incest. His mama, Myrrah, had tricked her daddy into getting with her during a festival by swapping with a village girl that was supposed to be her daddy's "festival girl".  He had partied so hard that he had had no idea who he was with by evening. Man, that dude could put em' away. Good times!

Anyways, so Adonis was what you might call real, real special. Just wasn't nobody manning the walls, if you follow me. Sweet guy though, he was a real people person at heart.

*background voice of Adonis, absurdly enthusiastic* "Adooonis!! I like helping!!!"

All Adonis really had was his looks and one other redeeming virtue.  I haven't used the word elephantine in a sentence for a while so we'll just describe it like that. Adonnis' primary redeeming virtue was elephantine, and well cherished by Aphrodite. Meaningful conversation was never really her thing anyway.

So the story you can go read varies but here's the gist of how it really went. Adonis liked to hunt. He wasn't good at it; nobody wanted to bring him with them.

*Adonis again, loud as fuck* "I see it! I see the stag! I'll get it! Adooonis!!"

Now most times this meant he and Aphrodite would go out and he'd hunt small game with a sport bow or sling, still couldn't hit the bottom of a canyon if he jumped in. Aphrodite would humor him and tag along, keeping him safe and letting him find game she killed for him and hid. He was ALWAYS far more enthusiastic after a good "hunt", so this became a very regular thing. It went on like this for quite some time in fact. Word got around. Eventually plans got laid to put an end to the situation.

The Real Story: Adonis
Section 2

For time out of mind Eris, we all just used to call her Woe back then, had grown to REALLY hate Aphrodite and just loved fucking with her mind at every opportunity. Oh and she was ruthless! Mmmm... so ruthless. Pretty much any time Aphrodite took a mortal lover Eris would be ready, behind the bar, in the alley, at home, any given stable really, to jump that mortal really quiet like and show 'em the good stuff. For all her looks and power Aphrodite wasn't the best lay ever, Eris was.

Eris would turn that monkey inside out on the sly every time, and leave Aphrodite wondering why they always seemed to "break" after a while and start staring vacantly at nothing, not even seeming to see her. Eris was always happy to suggest, when Aphrodite inevitably came by to gossip, that she just needed to find one that was more lively. This had continued for ages and had ruined kings, priests, adventurers, stable boys, particularly attractive beggars, and even a philosopher or two.

When Adonis' turn inevitably came Eris looked that silly mortal in the eye and just couldn't do it, elephantine virtue or not.  He was just too innocent. Truth was he was just what that vacuous Aphrodite needed really.

 Then crafty goddess Eris saw a use for his vacant enthusiasm that would be far more rewarding than the same old games. She patted him on the head and told him she had heard what a great hunter he was and that she was very pleased to finally meet him after all the good things Aphrodite had said about him. She said that if he could keep it a secret that she'd tell him what Aphrodite said she had always wanted.

*Adonis trying to be secretive and "quiet"* "I can be quiet! I keep secrets! III'm Adooo-" *claping sound, voice cuts off*

Eris told the pretty, silly monkey that Aphrodite had always wanted him to surprise her with a big trophy animal, but didn't want to pressure him, and that he had to be quiet about it, and never ever say anything, or her feelings might be hurt because she had told Eris in private.  Eris was sure he'd get a chance one day though and he should keep hunting with Aphrodite, until he could go and find big game one day, like the other men do. Then good old Woe put a finger across his lips and said "SHHH!", and Adonis nodded vigorously.

Now the rest of the story is well documented, but there's a few deets missing. I'll just fill them in as well as I can later, but don't got all night.
Shahrazahd yalls! I'll be back another night real soon. - Dustrael

Bring and Brag / poem fragments I don't know what else to do with
« on: March 18, 2015, 03:05:51 pm »
If I didn't respect you,
I would not correct you,
I would just leave you,
To stay on you knees,
Down in your own derp.

Oh hell what now?
Want me to bow,
 and lick the boot,
or else you'll shoot?
Shoot then, fuck you!
Rather eat a bullet
than bow to you,

Or Kill Me / THIS is an OUTRAGE!!!!!
« on: March 17, 2015, 03:11:58 am »
OH so you think it's LIKE THAT huh!? Well I barely got time to tell you this shit, but YOU'RE FUCKING WRONG!!

I've NEVER heard some foolass SHIT like that pour out someone's musty ass cake-eater before!  So you're just going to put some shit like THAT up on the INTERNET and not expect to be PUT CORRECT?? EVERYBODY with ahalfa workin' brain knows how ALL that shit ain't real fool, and now you're gonna bring it ALL up in here huh? YOU RETARDED, FINGERLICKING SHIT-KNUCKLE!!

FIRSTLY let me clear some a that bullshit that you just said up for you.

Your english ain't even any good. I CAN FIX THAT!!!
I'll cross your eyes and dot your teeths out for ya!
How about THAT?!?

WHAT? You think you can SCIENCE! HA!! Here's a pack of Occam's razors. Go FUCK YOURSELF as simply as possible with 'em!

Even IF there was some MISSPELT, MAJICAL fuckin' way that that shit could be rite you'd fuck it up worse than Crowley's heroin habit. You think you can hide behind some half-ass THELEMA or some shit and it's ALL ok no matter what shit you said, huh? BITCH!!!!! Put YOUR BALLS up ON the ALTAR and SAY THAT SHIT AGAIN!!...  Didn't THINK so punk.

OH WHAT? You mad? Gonna tear up and SWING!? WELL SWING THEN FOOL!!! I ain't afraid of a chump with two left feet AND saying some wrong shit. IMA take a half step over you while you trip over your feet WORSE than your tongue! Bet you NEED to back your BULLSHIT with your pussyass WANNABE "oh but people like me have fought for this" CRAP!! You CLEARLY ain't NEVER had a real fight in you life, go home.

Your shit isn't even worth my time.

RPG Ghetto / The Emperor's blockparty RPG ghetto style
« on: February 20, 2015, 03:33:28 am »
So there's this game that has a fairly modest but fanatical following out in the gamerculture called Warhammer 40k. Set in the year 40,000, humanity lives in all corners of the galaxy and has a central government of sorts on the world of Holy Terra. That would be Earth after several apocalypses, failed petty interstellar empires, and colonization attempts. Then something like the year 30,000 or so a hyper-human perfect being stepped up from the population of Earth, unified the techno-barbarian tribes, re established a peace with the Martian colony, and ultimately began the impossible task of establishing a unified Galactic Empire of Humanity. He is known only as the Emperor in all established records of the setting and was both the best and worst thing that ever happened to humanity.

To make a long, epicly styled, and marvelous story short, The Emperor is betrayed by one of his clone-generals and the Empire nearly falls to the forces of Chaos. I do not mean nice, cutesy chaos either. Raw forces of sentient corruption and madness that hunger beyond the walls of spacetime. The kind that make you eat your family for kicks and burn whole worlds to test a new toy.

The corrupted general is defeated but the Emperor is mostly slain also after the cataclysmic final battle. He had by this point long since ushered in a Platinum Age, you could say, as marvels of technology and psionic power beyond imagining called the Golden Throne allowed his spirit to cling to his mostly dead body and produce a beacon on Holy Terra called the Astronomican. This beacon is a guide to all ships traveling through the Warp to reach other worlds of the still enduring,  but stunted, Imperium of Man.

I won't take up the whole intro with explanation of the setting. There's A LOT. But I'm setting up this thread for general discussion of the game and the story. If you're a noob to 40k feel free to ask something if you didn't understand the stuff you're about to hear. READ THE THREAD FIRST PLEASE as the topic will develop Emperor knows where and your question may well have already been covered.

I would very much like to avoid the minutiae of game mechanics, but won't care too much if it's relevant to what's being talked about.  I just don't want to get bogged down too much by it.

I wonder if God's thought
just before saying 'Let there be light.'
might not have been
something like
'Damn man, THIS is really going to hurt'  ...

If God is
then clearly God
is acquainted with pain
and horror
more intimately
than even is
By far.

So the workshop,
and 'assistants' that God made
for making and molding
folding and holding
the material universe
as we know it,

what might be called heaven and angels,
existed in a painless way

before the fall,

where all
experienced pain
and some,
the unvictorious,

left to live in a partition
on the C:osmic drive
made to contain the pain
for now,
and called hell
by some.

And humanity got caught up
in this somehow also doomed
to unfamiliar suffering
and grim mortality

I think
we were always mortal
in body

for as long as our best science can make of it,

but that before the fall of man
our souls were developing
if in slow agony
and not in some
contrived contention.

 If before
all that fall
there was no suffering for the angels
then I think God must have been
holding out on them
from the Beginning.

It was not for them
to know
or endure,
yet for man
I think strife natural
a critical if oft
criticized development,

both an incentive
and test of sorts,

in the bio-evolutionary
and also spiritual sense.

And here was the danger.
This was a first for the Earth project team.

Apple Talk / E.D.S. - the true adversary
« on: January 17, 2015, 03:20:10 am »
The Telos Foundation
Dedicated to eradicating E.D.S. (Existential Despair Syndrome)

Telos cares.

Before you make the only life decision that can't be learned from.
Talk to Telos.

Before your suffering overloads your will and you decide to ultimately kick back, relax, and end your days with a few bleach coladas.
Give Telos a call. There's always a better drink to be had.

If you're contemplating jumping into the woodchipper at work because your family could do quite well on the insurance settlement and the bastards never do put up the safety rail.
Let Telos be your helper. We can help you understand how to send photos to O.S.H.A.

If the endless and meaningless dance of folly and flesh that passes for your fellow humans has you considering a mass murder spree and inevitable running mutual manhunt that would make I.S.I.S. cream its pants and possibly even start getting truly creative.

Tell Telos all about it. If nothing is impossible anything can be forgiven, even stupid. Patience and Grace are essential virtues; Telos can show you all of the best lesser evils.

E.D.S. is a real thing.

It often tragically wastes lives and has untold economic consequences for both the health care and junkfood markets.

We at The Telos Foundation have our entire beings focused on only one singular goal.
E.D.S. will be eliminated from the human experience.

Though this brazen goal may rightly smack of madness to the reasoning person we at Telos understand the critical need for nonsense weapons to fight a nonsense war.

Existential Despair does not reason.
Existential Despair does not compromise.
Existential Despair does not give up it's assault on humanity wherever it can find even shallow purchase in our lives.
To truly achieve it's founding goal against an implacable adversary Telos has no option but to commit totally.

As it stands that the current protectionist legal structures prevent Telos from monitoring for E.D.S. and eradicating it in homes, public and private offices, and various throughfares Telos must rely on YOU to know the myriad signs of E.D.S. and reach out to us.
 We exist to help, and we need your help.

Signs of advanced, dangerous E.D.S. may include, but are not limited in any way to:

Lengthy instances of staring at the wall, especially if characterized by low growls, eye twitching or rolling, or unacknowledged incontinence

Obsession with weapons and other deadly objects including excessive cleaning of or going to bed with said objects
(BE ADVISED: these may appear to be ordinary objects at first glance)

The appearance of holding back tears of rage, with possible hand clenching, oral foaming, and shaking
(this may be especially apparent while discussing "hot button" topics such as work, family troubles, romantic interests, politics, the environment, economics, faith, or any form of sport, gambling, or ontology)

Early signs may include excessive interest in books, games, television or any other immersive media in an attempt "to drown out the baleful din of this blighted world"

If you still hold to your surely reasonable doubts The Telos Foundation invites you to watch this short clip from the ground breaking film
"Full Metal Jacket"

The 2 prior videos in the "Gomer Pyle" series demonstrate the incredible effort that was put into treatment but, as the video in the link shows, ultimately the final attempt by the Sargent to reason with the poor man proved a tragic, preventable folly.

Do not allow the inevitable spread of E.D.S. to continue unopposed.
Work with Telos to put an end to the waste, without wasting yourself.

This message commissioned by The Telos Foundation

Telos, we will never stop helping
No matter what

Just something from my archive before I crash. Worked until 8 today and going in again at 5:30 tomorrow morning. I do things for these people and the cash that even God wouldn't ask of me.

Apple Talk / A variant Eris back story
« on: January 07, 2015, 04:46:34 pm »
Here is my most interesting current project involving Eris. It's all in one lump as I wrote it with a few notes from a friend in double parentheses. This one I also started writing spontaneously as the story hit my brain. The difficult part for me has been not the story but my attempt at expression. It fourth part is incomplete and there is a fifth needed to close the story.

I hope you folks enjoy!

Or Kill Me / I can't even...
« on: October 22, 2014, 09:33:53 pm »

So my job is a giant bucket of mouldering dicks that I appearantly must chew down like they're bratwurst while smiling and ensuring everyone that they are just de-lightful.

I can't even discuss openly the problems that I have with my work place with my own coworkers. I was just repremanded by some admin person for speaking to a couple guys working the cafeteria line about how the hospital is, once yet again, without needed linen. After days of short supply. "Customers could hear" she said.  Like she was quoting scripture I clearly needed in my life. I said "I'm sorry. I guess earnesty has it's drawbacks" I'm reasonably sure emails will be sent for that second bit.
The cafeteria guys asked ME. There were no customers around.  Just an eavesdropping fuckwit.

It's upsetting to me to see an organization with its head so totally shoved up ass that it can't see any problem with the fact that it's totally blind.

The view must be marvelous in there.
They know what's going on.
There are open door policies.

 If there was a problem it would be brought up, right?
 Except in conversation with co-workers of course. Can't have that. People could hear. Folks might make informed decisions that do not benefit the hospital. It's about what's good for the business.  There's bratwurst available in the cafeteria today.

No for real... $3.60, top quality, excellent flavor!

Apple Talk / On Who I Am & What The Hell I'm Doing On Your Lawn!
« on: October 04, 2014, 08:35:27 pm »
When I first showed up here at PD I had basically just decided to dive in and see what would come of it. I had a head full of preconceived ideas about Discordianism, that mainly proved WRONG, and a heart full of agendas that have since proven unworkable or that I need much greater maturity to enact. And some few that I realized were BAD IDEAS, thanks to this place and it's denizens, even if I could get them off the ground. 

Moreover I was in the throes. The Goddess Eris had really worked me over good. My head was quite firmly wedged twixt my butt cheeks but not totally up my ass. She's such a peach. These days I feel I've extricated myself, but still stand as a bit of a shithead.

I portrayed myself as what I imagined myself or hoped to be, not what I am. I won't call this a mistake anymore than I would call puking at a wild party a mistake.  I had the poison in me, did it to myself.  Had I missed the metaphorical bucket THAT could have been tragic. For me. Just another day at the bus stop for the regulars here.

There's a lot that I've learned about the folks here just by reading what's been shared. I have not truly reciprocated much to date and have no wish to just be some creeper that pops in and out.
So here's who I am.
I'm a dude from Wisconsin. I'm the product of multiple improbable circumstances wrapped up in a plain paper bag.

My mom descended from a long line of  mostly Irish trash and suffered a shattered home, several tragic deaths, and much abuse before being taken in by very loving, if somewhat ignorant, Iowa Baptist foster parents. I have many scattered cousins and half or full aunts and uncles all over the country on her side. I'm not very close with most.

My dad was born to a Roman Protestant Mason father (figure THAT one out)  and a nondenominational Sicilian mother(a match ONLY in America) that had been excommunicated from the Catholic Church for marrying a sonofabitch and shortly after deciding to divorce him to save herself. She moved from Jersey to Wisconsin where they met. My dad's parents stayed together until Death kept his appointments. It was not peaceful or easy, but it was familia. A big one, boomer generation style.

My folks raised me and my 2 younger brothers, 18 months and 3.5 years younger, as well as they could. It is said that parenting is the last great profession left exclusively to amateurs. They did their best to keep up with the Joneses in boomer fashion and raise nice little super babies. It didn't last long, but in our early years my brothers and I got better education than most by far.

 I was weaned on classical music, baby books on anatomy and science, the B.I.B.L.E. and also folklore from around the world read to me as a child by my dad. My folks had purchased a huge encyclopedic set for the purpose long since lost. I got as much Childe Roland, Jack the Giant Killer, and Japanese or African fables as I did David and Goliath etc.

I could identify what season from Vivaldi's Four Seasons was playing in kindergarten. I knew my larynx from my esophagus, and that skin was called a dermis. I knew not to run widdershins around a church three times unless you really meant it. I knew God loved me and everyone and that He was down for some serious giant slaying.
My parents had lovingly built a freak and I had trouble as soon as I had to mix with the genpop in public school.

More later... as I can.

Techmology and Scientism / The new wave of Art, Information, and Technology
« on: September 20, 2012, 03:51:45 pm »
I'd like to open up a thread on the greatly expanded powers of expression that this new interface format we all use here can make possible. The thread is inspired by the Ted Talk given by a fellow named Aaron Koblin.
Here's the Ted Talk.

This was brought to my attention from a wise old acquaintance of mine and friend of my mother. It is still so wondrous and strange to me to be living in times that allow for such swift and free exchange of ideas!

I want to encourage ranting and emphasize artistic depictions made possible or greatly enhanced by information and other technological advances.

In the TT Mr. Koblin showcases several projects, but one of them took my breath away and gave me a solid bone chill.

Here's a link to the most direct result of the project.

It's a video with many many frames submitted by the "masses." We need to abolish that fool-ass moniker.
It's thousands of thousands of thousands of souls all full of image and wonderment. Nothing less, swallow your jadedness and coffee and deal with it!

If we can find means to encourage creativity and growth, if we can find means to truly interconnect and collaborate without referencing the malware softwired in our heads, then we will see an explosion of creative art and will that will make the current era of the internet and it's achievements seem like the warm-up of the grandest symphony ever heard by man.

If we fail to enthrall and enlighten the jerks sitting in the back with gasoline and matches, however, it's going to be fire in the theatre. I suspect even that can be contained, and the show will still go on.

Apple Talk / Yankovich's got a grip on first world problems!
« on: September 18, 2012, 12:15:35 am »
This is some funny shit.  Real long song called "Trapped In The Drive-Thru" I been sick all day and it just perked my day right up.

Apple Talk / Touched By A Goddess
« on: September 10, 2012, 02:52:28 am »
The following is s short story from the material that I plan to use for business purposes. It's a rough draft and I hope to eventually make it into a short still-motion video. A format I call Stillies.TM no really TM If you happen to like it enough to share I'm OK with that as long as it's credited to The Wizard Joseph and a link is provided to If you don't like it I'm sorry, but it's the best I and my muse can manage right now.  It has been heavily influenced by some of the information I've come across here and everyone here has my deepest thanks for their influence.

Touched By A Goddess

Things can get pretty lonely here in Root City.  Every day slips into the next and the next differentiated only by the number
of gunshots I think I hear each night and their proximity. The people have no time for a common single white male of
unexceptional looks and meager pocket book.  I decided to take out an ad on to see if I could meet someone,
anyone, that would respond well to a little teasing.

The add ran thusly:

To trade: One coffee table in exchange for conversation and possible hand-job.
No picture necessary, come as you are no matter what you look like.
Prefer a tall, leggy conversation partner.
Not really "in to", but curious about bondage.
Please contact Melvin Melville PH#: (%%%) %%%-%%%% 1123 Cross Rd. Root City, WI #8
SERIOUS responses only please.

I submitted the ad at about 5 O'clock on a drizzly Friday afternoon. After it failed to generate any immediate response I
stopped refreshing the screen around 3 a.m. and went to bed. My last thoughts before drifting off into a dreamless sleep were
along the lines of "Fucking bitches, guess none of them can take a joke."


I woke with a jolt in my nerves and a foul sweat soaking the sheets of my bed. I grunted incoherently as I looked with
sandpapery eyes over at the clock next to my bed on the coffee table.  It was jammed in with the rest of my possessions and
the piles of garbage in my dingy and unkempt efficiency apartment. It's cheery red face read 4:00. Judging by the sunlight
lancing it's way into my optic nerves this meant 4 p.m.


With limbs heavy and mouth tasting nasty from over sleep I hauled myself up and put on some shorts as quickly as I could. The
pounding continued as I tried to shout with thick vocal cords, "Hold your horses Goddamnit! I payed the rent on time last
week! Are you a cop?"
The result was more of a croaking sound.

I hobbled through the living room, kitchenette combo area, past the bathroom that had no door and was in a shameful state. I
had just enough time and presence of mind to notice the fresh, deep cracks across the middle of the door before I had it
open. What I saw took my breath away.

She was incredible! Her hair was jet black and loosely held behind her head. She was at least two inches taller than me and
dressed in a long, dark purple jacket, a matching tight, flesh form leather corset with gilded fittings, a short, dark red
vinyl skirt, various dazzling jewelery, and wore knee high black boots over perfectly smooth legs the color of a sandy beach.
Most striking was the deep purple and gold leather mask that covered the upper part of her face and framed violet and green
eyes so vivid and intricate that they just HAD to be contact lenses. She seemed to be in her late thirties or maybe an
incredibly well preserved fourtysomething.

There was a nonchalant smile on her scarlet lips as she leaned slightly against the right side of the door frame. From her
left hand a short cat of nine tails style whip with a long haft and Y shaped brass pommel dangled off of a loop attached to
her wrist. I could not help but notice the life-like dagger tattoo gracefully drawn between her smallish and alluring breasts.
It disappeared tantalizingly into the top of the corset and I could just see it's path down her abdomen through the front

I placed my forearm up against the door frame and leaned on it, mirroring her angle. I smiled without showing my grimy teeth
and said, "Well, hey there beautiful! What's your na.."

I never saw her move. A horrible blossom of pain opened up in my solar plexus and lungs. I doubled over. I couldn't gasp much
less breathe. I would have hit the ground then and there, but an impossibly strong grip on my forearm, the one I had leaned
on, prevented me from pitching forward. Instead I found myself abstractly noting the cool smooth feel of that whip's pommel
on my clavicle as she thrust me back into the room. The grip on my wrist released just as my balance pitched all the way back
and I sprawled out onto the floor of the kitchenette. I nearly puked, both from the pain and the fact that my head was now
resting in old pasta sauce I should have cleaned off of the floor a week ago.

I heard her soft, even footsteps walk into my room. I heard my own groans. I heard the door close gently and felt the rush of
air as it did so.
I heard her Voice. An impossible thing of multiple voices some quietly laughing and jeering while others were nearly sobbing.

Over all of them there was a velvety, almost sympathetic and almost mocking voice. It said to me, "You must be Melvin. Melvin
Melville? (get up you weak little shitstain!) (awww, he's just so  damn cute like that) I'm here about your ad and the table.
Am I bothering you? Is this a good time? I'm on a pretty tight schedule myself. (so don't waste my time you wretch) I'll just
get straight to the point. (hehehe)"

She brought her leg back and soccer kicked me in the side of my leg as I lay there trying desperately to re-orient myself.
The blow landed squarely in the middle my femur and I felt hot painsations. It was exactly like how I've imagined being shot
must feel. As she smoothly withdrew her boot I noticed that the tip was a black and glossy metal.
She stood there in my kitchenette for moments that seemed to be ages taking in the sights and smells of my room. She was
literally sniffing in short deep bursts like an animal. I vainly tried to climb the cabinets and counter top that divided the
kitchenette from the living room I slept in and get some footing.

"STAY DOWN UNTIL I'M FINISHED ASSWIPE!!" The voice sounded like a freight train crashing into my ear. I expected the place to
shake and some helpful neighbor to start banging on their wall and call the cops. Neither happened. I felt my resolve give
way as it dawned on me that the shout had been IN MY HEAD! I tried to scream. I managed to gurgle and slump.

The woman brought in one last, long, deep breath and sighed. She tisked a few times and seemed to be making a decision. I
thought it best to simply lay there on the floor in agony and paralytic terror. I hadn't even had my coffee yet.

She continued to look around as she bemusedly said, "Here I thought you were going to be a big fat shit ready for flushing.
(you lucky little punk) But you are in fact just a useless little fuck. (does it hurt baby, huh?) Look at this place!  You
have every advantage in this hogwash patriarchal society (Louie's such a clusterfuck), and you CAN'T SEEM TO DO A THING WITH
IT!!" Again I felt the thunder in my head. I still couldn't brace for it.

"Let me show you around this little life of yours." She fluidly bent over and grabbed me firmly by the arm and the waist of
my shorts and lifted me onto my feet. I was eye to eye with her for a few moments as the shorts firmly wedged into my
asscrack.  I'll never forget them. Ever. And her eyes seemed so kind and sad, and mad. As soon as my feet cleared the floor I
was moving away from them. I crashed through the door-less portal and onto the bathroom sink. The cheap porcelain cracked and
the even cheaper plumber's tape my scumbag landlord had used to fix a persistent leak gave way. I knew this because the cold
water began to spray out in a high pressure stream. I was beyond pain at this point, but noted a few dull spots in my back
that would doubtless make their voices heard later.  She walked casually toward me from the Kitchenette.

"It's a good thing I got to you first little boy. Why, if you had actually managed to find some poor girl desperate enough to
take you up on that bullshit ad you placed you might never have grown up at all! (maybe you just needed a maid, jerk) Look at
all this mess. REALLY LOOK!(have a taste too asshole)"

She grabbed me by the shaggy hair on the back of my neck and dragged me effortlessly, head first, to the toilet.  Naturally
the seat was up. Naturally I had not flushed the fucker.  She held me there, my nose millimeters from the amber water and the
seaweed brown streaks on the side of the bowl.  It so happened that this position put my forehead in the path of the icy
water streaming out of my sink. For a terrible moment she said nothing as I watched the water stream off of my nose and into
the bowl. I had no fight left in me. She was just too strong.

"You see? And then when you're done you do this," She flushed the toilet and the musky, salty brine became a flavor in my
nose and mouth. "And This!" She slammed the seat down on the back of my neck. "AND THIS!!" She did that screaming thing
again, brought down the lid onto the crown of my head, and threw me back out through the doorway. The toilet seat broke free
and came with me, wrapped around my neck.

I never knew what it was like to fly across a room before. It's not as fun as you'd think. My refrigerator had been doing
nothing this entire time but humming contentedly until I crashed into it sideways. I think this is when my nose broke, but
I'm not sure. Laying there in the angle between the fridge and it's now open door is definitely when I noticed the blood. At
first I thought it might be ketchup, but I had no ketchup in the door. I was real sure of at least that one fact when I
realized that she had come to stand behind me. I hadn't heard her walk up somehow.

She got down on one knee and sort of cradled me and the toilet seat. Her hands were so warm. "Oh you poor thing.. (not that
poor, douchebag) It looks like you have just nothing to eat. Maybe THAT'S why you're such a pathetic fuck. Let's see, what's
this here in the back?"

She reached across me deep into the fridge, and her breasts, just ever so lightly, touched my nose. It's how I discovered it
was broken. Her body slid back over me and she withdrew what my gamer circle and I refer to as "The Horror." It was a plastic
container that at one point had held Grandma's casserole, months ago. It was now an ecosystem. One I had never had the guts
to check on and throw out.

Her sharp nose wrinkled as she opened it. She seemed to contemplate for a moment. She put it back on the edge of the shelf and
threw the lid away. "You haven't been THAT naughty. Maybe you do need a woman to take care of you. (after you grow up
shitbird) You look so damn tired. I keep forgetting how you mortals can be so flimsy. (and no useful stamina either!) Let's
just put you to bed, M'kay? Would you like to just get some rest?"

I wanted to tell her to just get the hell out. I wanted to tell the crazy bitch to fuck off and die! All I could manage was a
look of resignation and an attempt to nod. She was already nodding vigorously and smiling with a sick and fanatic enthusiasm.
I could hear the soft tinkling sound her earrings made as she did it.

I was dragged by my arm across the kitchen and through the little gap between the counter top and the wall that served to
almost bisect the shoebox I was living in. The carpet in the living room burned my back and nearly took my wedged shorts off
of me. I was already clenching out of sheer survival reflex. I was dumped bodily onto the mattress and box spring on the floor
that served as my bed. The psycho knelt down next to me.

"Here let me just tuck you in and..." She paused and looked down to where my thin and dirty blanket had drawn back as she
placed it neatly over me. Her eyes had fixed on the videos and magazine laying there. My porn collection. All I could think
was, "NO! nononono..." as my body went cold everywhere except my groin. That was all too warm and the sensation was

"What the fuck is this? "Dirty, Dirty Slut Butt?" "Ho Or Dare: College Edition #23!?" "Bang That Hole Till It Squirts!?!?"

As she got more and more worked up she began to tear out pages of the magazine and rub them in my face. I barely noticed
this. The piercing shriek in my head had become a living and furious thing trying to fuck it's way out of my head through my
sinuses and ear drums. I seriously thought I was going to die!


I just barely heard the horn of a car blaring out in the street. The woman stopped immediately and looked out. Her face
swiftly went into a moment of mild shock followed by a serene and playful happiness. For a moment all I could think was that
she looked so radiant in the light from the window. I was so sorry. It was so obviously my fault that things had turned out
this way. So beautiful...

"M'Kay, so I really do have to get going, hope you enjoyed the convo!(gonna go see a better man than you)" She looked around
the room and spotted the only table I had. "This must be the table! So, awesome then huh? Here.. uhm..just get yourself
cleaned up, you little idiot. Thanks for the table! I really do need it for another project." She tossed me a slightly clean
Root City Cogs jersey of mine from on top of the table.


"Aw, he's always in such a hurry. Bye now! It was just great getting to know you Melvin Melville. You never know, we may just
see each other again some day.(You better have your shit together you twerp)"

With that she one handed the table and walked away toward the door dumping all of my stuff off of it. I barely noticed that
the clock read 4:07 before it's cord got pulled from the wall as it crashed into the floor along with all of my game books. I
noticed that her boots had five inch heels. She had just a perfect apple shaped ass. She left the way she had come in. She
just gently opened the door and closed it behind her carrying her table and dragging her whip loosely against the ground. I
could hear the table bump and scrape against the wall as she headed down the hallway. I heard a plop that could only have been "The Horror" falling off the shelf and hitting the floor.

I was going to be damned if I didn't at least watch her go.

I managed through unaccountable will to drag myself to the window I had heard the honking coming from. There I saw a beaten
out old, grey Volvus parked crookedly on the far side of the street. The door on the driver's side was open and a huge man in
shabby hand-me-down business clothes was standing there smoking a black cigarette. He expression was a bit worried and he was looking at my building.

He looked like he was about to start honking again when I heard the building door open and the sound of metal heels on
concrete. The big guy's face lit up in the purest happiness I'd ever seen, even on a child. He met her half way across the
road and planted a lingering kiss on that radiant monster's lips. He took the table from her and opened the back door to put
it in the Volvus while she scrambled on hands and knees through the drivers side door and sat down in the passenger seat. The
dude had to jiggle it a little but managed to make the table fit.

Their voices carried to me on the air. "Ah, Pretty One. I hope that things have gone well?" The man's voice had an accent on
it that I just couldn't place. "Hm? Oh yeah baby, everything's fine! Peachy keen you know?" "I heard you keening and thought
that there may have been troubles.  I need not have worried." "Let's get the fuck out of here baby. That guy was a total
stain." "I worried that I may have needed to ask Great Garbage for another favor if you screamed much longer. I already owe
it so much" "Can we not talk about your creepy friends and just get the fuck out of here, like NOW?" "Of course, beautiful
Eris. We have so much yet to do."

With both of them seated, the door closed and the car very slowly accelerated away. If only I could afford to call an ambulance.

I was shown this video by one of my friends and collaborators just last night.
This is CLEARLY the truth, brought out into the public eye for to free us all!  Also the funniest video of it's type I have ever seen. Ever.

Now just hear the man out!

Looking into his account I think there's a real gold mine here!

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