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TESTEMONAIL:  Right and Discordianism allows room for personal interpretation. You have your theories and I have mine. Unlike Christianity, Discordia allows room for ideas and opinions, and mine is well-informed and based on ancient philosophy and theology, so, my neo-Discordian friends, open your minds to my interpretation and I will open my mind to yours. That's fair enough, right? Just claiming to be discordian should mean that your mind is open and willing to learn and share ideas. You guys are fucking bashing me and your laughing at my theologies and my friends know what's up and are laughing at you and honestly this is my last shot at putting a label on my belief structure and your making me lose all hope of ever finding a ideological group I can relate to because you don't even know what the fuck I'm talking about and everything I have said is based on the founding principals of real Discordianism. Expand your mind.

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What I Did

Started by Q. G. Pennyworth, April 01, 2016, 02:18:02 PM

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Q. G. Pennyworth

My favorite Christmas present of all time
Was a set of jewelers' screwdrivers
All the little philips, flat and hexes
For tearing down machines
My father got it for me when I was sixteen
And I still have it today.

I remember one day at school
I was sitting in the bathroom
Staring at the fixtures
Because you have to stare at something
And I noticed the screws
Could only be turned one way.

They were designed so they could be tightened
But never unscrewed
And, I reasoned, this was because they didn't want
Any kids to tear apart the bathroom stalls
Which means bathroom stalls
Can be torn apart.

I started looking around the school
And everywhere I saw un-safetied screws
Holding together pieces of things
I took for granted as "solid"
The desks, the walls, the bookshelves
They could all be torn apart.

Giddy with my realization
I wanted to tear down the world
I mentally dismantled the schoolbus,
The movie theater, the park benches
I unmade an alarm clock
And broke my father's chisel.

One time I took apart a rotary phone
The faceplate, the dial, everything
I broke all the way down
To a little box of goo
That I still don't know the purpose of
It would never be a phone again.

And sometimes I think this attitude
Explains what happened to my head
Because I learned what brains are made of
And identities
I ate lots of ideas that were bad for me
And tore my shit to pieces.

I think I telephoned my brain.

P3nT4gR4m

:mittens: That's so close to home I'm wondering now if you're my Tyler Durden. Can someone check the IP's ITT to see if they're the same  :tinfoilhat:

I'm up to my arse in Brexit Numpties, but I want more.  Target-rich environments are the new sexy.
Not actually a meat product.
Ass-Kicking & Foot-Stomping Ancient Master of SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK
Awful and Bent Behemothic Results of Last Night's Painful Squat.
High Altitude Haggis-Filled Sex Bucket From Beyond Time and Space.
Internet Monkey Person of Filthy and Immoral Pygmy-Porn Wart Contagion
Octomom Auxillary Heat Exchanger Repairman
walking the fine line line between genius and batshit fucking crazy

"computation is a pattern in the spacetime arrangement of particles, and it's not the particles but the pattern that really matters! Matter doesn't matter." -- Max Tegmark

LMNO


Q. G. Pennyworth

Quote from: P3nT4gR4m on April 01, 2016, 02:25:59 PM
:mittens: That's so close to home I'm wondering now if you're my Tyler Durden. Can someone check the IP's ITT to see if they're the same  :tinfoilhat:

Strangely enough, not the first time I've been accused of being someone's Tyler Durden.