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PROPHECY FOR A DOOMED SPECIES (Who WANTS to know the future?).

Started by The Good Reverend Roger, January 03, 2013, 06:55:33 PM

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EK WAFFLR

The future is a small, snowy village in Northern Belgium.
Everything closes at 6PM, and nothing is open on Sundays, not even the bar and the pizza place.
"At first I lifted weights.  But then I asked myself, 'why not people?'  Now everyone runs for the fjord when they see me."


Horribly Oscillating Assbasket of Deliciousness
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LMNO

Quote from: Waffles, Viking Princess of Northern Belgium on January 04, 2013, 11:41:59 AM
The future is a small, snowy village in Northern Belgium.
Everything closes at 6PM, and nothing is open on Sundays, not even the bar and the pizza place.

The future seems picturesque and shitty, all at the same time.

Lenin McCarthy

Quote from: LMNO, PhD (life continues) on January 04, 2013, 12:48:56 PM
Quote from: Waffles, Viking Princess of Northern Belgium on January 04, 2013, 11:41:59 AM
The future is a small, snowy village in Northern Belgium.
Everything closes at 6PM, and nothing is open on Sundays, not even the bar and the pizza place.

The future seems picturesque and shitty, all at the same time.
But someone, somewhere in your vicinity, has an illicit moonshine apparatus in their basement.

Anna Mae Bollocks

Scantily-Clad Inspector of Gigantic and Unnecessary Cashews, Texas Division

Salty

The world is a car and you're the crash test dummy.

Richter

Quote from: Lenin McCarthy on January 04, 2013, 02:00:03 PM
Quote from: LMNO, PhD (life continues) on January 04, 2013, 12:48:56 PM
Quote from: Waffles, Viking Princess of Northern Belgium on January 04, 2013, 11:41:59 AM
The future is a small, snowy village in Northern Belgium.
Everything closes at 6PM, and nothing is open on Sundays, not even the bar and the pizza place.

The future seems picturesque and shitty, all at the same time.
But someone, somewhere in your vicinity, has an illicit moonshine apparatus in their basement.

It only makes turpentine.  IT is run by a palsied old codgers who has no interest in making any sort of product that actually tastes good.  He knows the bitterness of life, and only wants the taste of "Fuck you" in his bathtub basement schnapps.  IT will take anyone from perfect health to cirhosis and frail lunacy in about 15 years.  Doesn't bother our proprietor, he doesn't expect to live another 10, and is in fact held together by the lead deposits along his storied neurons.

This is the only man in town who knows how to LIVE, how to buck the banality and the pink. 
Of course, he has no interest in telling anyone else this.  HE knows they won't listen.  They'd love him for it, sure, but in the end, it's an inconvenient message. 
He'd rather be hated than disregarded.




Quote from: Eater of Clowns on May 22, 2015, 03:00:53 AM
Anyone ever think about how Richter inhabits the same reality as you and just scream and scream and scream, but in a good way?   :lulz:

Friendly Neighborhood Mentat