A love letter to you.

[Adios]

Roger, you are rocking ITT.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Roger, you are rocking ITT.

Just venting a little bile steam.

[Dysfunctional Cunt]

Fucking awesome Roger!!!



I wish my bile steam could speak half as well....

[Payne]

[Adios]

Looks like laundry day at a frat house.

[Luna]

Looks like laundry day at a frat house.

Pft.  Frat boys don't do laundry.  The haul the stuff that's too stiff to wear home on holiday breaks, where it is magically transformed to clean stuff by some spell their mommies use.

The guys over in facilities are discussing whether it's practical to burn one of the dorms to the ground and rebuild it, rather than decontaminating it over the summer.  Again.

[Jenne]

Payne, that pic gives me the willies.  Perhaps because I've been in a room with female folks prostrate just like that. 

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Heh.

[Adios]

Heh.

Point made?

[Payne]

Uhm, the pic was chosen to denote awe of a superior mutant.

Nothing else.

[Adios]

Uhm, the pic was chosen to denote awe of a superior mutant.

Nothing else.

I know. I unintentionally made my remark, derailing the thread and thus proving Rogers original rant.

I apologize.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Uhm, the pic was chosen to denote awe of a superior mutant.

Nothing else.

I know. I unintentionally made my remark, derailing the thread and thus proving Rogers original rant.

I apologize.

S'ok, no problem.  I was just amused that my last installment was most of what I was trying to say, and it got buried.

[LMNO]

It was an accident, you know?  It was just one of those Good Times that got out of hand, and the SWAT team accidentally shot a Marine veteran 60 times, with 71 shots fired (That also means 11 bullets went on their merry way, looking for someone to say hello to, on a nice Tucson spring day.).

She was only trying to make rent, right, make rent and maybe get a little "medicine", to help her forget she was once daddy's little girl, with teddy bears on the bed and a few boy-band posters on the wall.  She got rolled by a John and stuffed in a dumpster, but it was really nothing personal.  Just another day in South Filth. 

Just another chance for the 21st Century to say, "Hello, I know I'm not what you were expecting.  The picture on my OKCupid profile was from a pulp magazine from 1946, but I just know my personality will shine through the bits of wear & tear that I've accumulated since then.  By the way, can I stick my finger in your ear?  That's HOT!  Maybe we can go for a nice walk, you know, maybe to Iraq or Afghanistan or maybe this new club I've heard about in North Africa."

He was just a simple preacher man, a bit of a schmuck, really.  He thought for years that humans could be civilized, if only they were given a chance to slow down and catch their breath.  It took years, but he finally realized why Curly's smile was always so sad looking...That the only thing making the humans run was themselves, and that they no longer wanted civilization.  They wanted self-righteous murder in foreign lands, they wanted expedience over principle, they wanted the trappings of empire.  They wanted rule, not government.

So this preacher man, yeah, he decided that a new career was in order.  He started studying The Machine™, he studied the cogs that it is made of, which is to say "people".  He took off his minister's collar, and put on a surgical smock.  He became a Doktor, and swore to burn it all down.

After a time, he relaxed a bit, he got a little lazy and overwhelmed, he started feeling bad for the humans again.  He began to preach again...For a while.  Then The Truth sank back in, and he began his Doktoring again, only in slightly smarter, quieter ways.  Everyone got used to the preacher man again, and they forgot to look behind his pleasant smile and amusing rage-y rants and sermons.

It's probably for the best, really.  There's nothing behind that smile but malice, 7 pounds of bad wiring and misanthropy that would make Paul of Tarsus blanch.  He smiles and he smiles and he learns where the gears are, and readies his bags of sand.

Just kidding.  He's just a simple preacher man, and he loves you.  He loves you all, and he really wants what's best for all of you.

Because he loves America.

Okay for now.

Babumpa.

[Phox]

It was an accident, you know?  It was just one of those Good Times that got out of hand, and the SWAT team accidentally shot a Marine veteran 60 times, with 71 shots fired (That also means 11 bullets went on their merry way, looking for someone to say hello to, on a nice Tucson spring day.).

She was only trying to make rent, right, make rent and maybe get a little "medicine", to help her forget she was once daddy's little girl, with teddy bears on the bed and a few boy-band posters on the wall.  She got rolled by a John and stuffed in a dumpster, but it was really nothing personal.  Just another day in South Filth. 

Just another chance for the 21st Century to say, "Hello, I know I'm not what you were expecting.  The picture on my OKCupid profile was from a pulp magazine from 1946, but I just know my personality will shine through the bits of wear & tear that I've accumulated since then.  By the way, can I stick my finger in your ear?  That's HOT!  Maybe we can go for a nice walk, you know, maybe to Iraq or Afghanistan or maybe this new club I've heard about in North Africa."

He was just a simple preacher man, a bit of a schmuck, really.  He thought for years that humans could be civilized, if only they were given a chance to slow down and catch their breath.  It took years, but he finally realized why Curly's smile was always so sad looking...That the only thing making the humans run was themselves, and that they no longer wanted civilization.  They wanted self-righteous murder in foreign lands, they wanted expedience over principle, they wanted the trappings of empire.  They wanted rule, not government.

So this preacher man, yeah, he decided that a new career was in order.  He started studying The Machine™, he studied the cogs that it is made of, which is to say "people".  He took off his minister's collar, and put on a surgical smock.  He became a Doktor, and swore to burn it all down.

After a time, he relaxed a bit, he got a little lazy and overwhelmed, he started feeling bad for the humans again.  He began to preach again...For a while.  Then The Truth sank back in, and he began his Doktoring again, only in slightly smarter, quieter ways.  Everyone got used to the preacher man again, and they forgot to look behind his pleasant smile and amusing rage-y rants and sermons.

It's probably for the best, really.  There's nothing behind that smile but malice, 7 pounds of bad wiring and misanthropy that would make Paul of Tarsus blanch.  He smiles and he smiles and he learns where the gears are, and readies his bags of sand.

Just kidding.  He's just a simple preacher man, and he loves you.  He loves you all, and he really wants what's best for all of you.

Because he loves America.

Okay for now.

[Adios]

Is it just me or is the degeneration of America picking up speed?