Queen Gogira is the massive, colon destroying SHIT that you didn't know you
even needed to take.
Queen Gogira is the 17 inch spiked strap-on dildo that you didn't even know
you needed to be fucked with.
Queen Gogira is the delicious jug of drain cleaner that you didn't even know
you wanted to drink.
Queen Gogira is what put the shoop in the shoop-shoo-bop-bop.
Queen Gogira is 12 feet tall, and made out of orphan children.
Queen Gogira can destroy an Abrams tank with ONE PUNCH.
Queen Gogira was actually the Walrus. Not that lying bastard Paul.
Queen Gogira will punt you right out of your boots, just for spitting in the road.
Queen Gogira strangled Glendale (this is NOT an obscure sports term).
Queen Gogira can take on an amorphous state, and ooze under your door.
Please feel free to add to the list of her crimes.
Queen Gogira invented the technology to punch people through the Internet, but won't share.
Queen Gogira is the one who scared away Harold Campings rapture.
Queen Gogira advocates Mormons going door to door. This is so she can hide in other people's houses and punch them in the throat when they show up.
Queen Gogira once wore Ru Paul's withered carcass as a wrap.
Queen Gogira is the reason you get commercials for the very same cable or dish service you already paid for and are using to watch those commercials.
Queen Gogira was responsible for them cancelling M.A.S.H., and the subsequent suicide-by-shampoo of Alan Alda.
Queen Gogira plays handball with chinchillas.
Chinchillas don't bounce. Much.
Queen Gogira appears in CCTV footage from London on 2nd of September 1666, handing out matches to an army of trained squirrels
Queen Gogira pays for Maggie Thatcher's life support.
Queen Gogira is why you have to block off a whole day just to get your licensed renewed at the DMV.
In 1975, CIA gangster police beat me bloody at the behest of Queen Gogira, dragged me in chains from Kennedy New York airport. Since then I hide in forced jobless poverty isolated, alone in this...house. The brazen deadly gangster police spray me with poison nerve gas from automobile exhausts and even lawn mowers. Deadly assaults even in my yard, with knives; even bricks and stones; even deadly touch "tavid" or electric shock flashlights; even remote electronically controlled, around corners trajection of deadly touch tarrantula spiders, or even bloody murder accidents...to shut me up forever with a sneak undetectable extermination, even with trained parrotting puppet assasins in maximum security insanity prison...for writing these unforgivable TRUTHS.
The secret work of all police, in order to maintain a Gogira closed society, the same world-wide mad deadly CIA gangster computer god that controls you, as a terrorized gangster Frankenstein earphone radio slave parroting nebbish---you are a terrorized member of the human race, world-wide, four billion eyesight television camera guinea-pig Gogira gangster computer god human race---your living, thinking, mad, deadly, world-wide CIA gangster Gogira-God secret overall plan: World-wide living death frankenstein slavery, to explore and control the entire universe with the endless stairway to the stars (Namely, the man-made inside-out planets, full of upside down people. And probably Mr Chop & Mr Scratch.).
On October 8, 1871, while visiting Chicago, Queen Gogira slipped into a small alley behind DeKoven Street, where she proceeded to have relations with a pair of rentboys, the description of which is too depraved for description, even here, in the presence of Doktors. Feeling a bit chilled after the exercise, she started a fire by rubbing the dessicated remains of said rentboys together. It is a matter of some debate if she knew what the various substances coating them would do, however the cobbled together cover story regarding the cow and the lantern seems to have proven effective.
The Gogira hostage crisis was a diplomatic crisis between Queen Gogira and the United States where 52 Americans were held hostage for 444 days from November 4, 1979 to January 20, 1981, after a group of Gogira's goons and henchmen took over the American Embassy in Gogeria in support of the Gogira Agenda. President Carter called the hostages "victims of terrorism and anarchy," adding that the "United States will not yield to blackmail."
The episode reached a climax when, after failed attempts to negotiate a release, the United States military attempted a rescue operation, Operation Buzzard Claw, on April 24, 1980, which resulted in a failed mission, the deaths of eight American servicemen, one Gogira henchman, and the destruction of two aircraft. It ended with the signing of the Gogira Accords in Gogeria on January 19, 1981. The hostages were formally released into United States custody the following day, just minutes after the new American president Ronald Reagan was sworn in.
The crisis has been described as an entanglement of "vengeance and mutual incomprehension". In Gogeria, the hostage taking was widely seen as a blow against humanity, and its influence in Gogeria, its perceived attempts to undermine the Gogerian Agenda, and its long-standing support of France, recently overthrown by the revolution. The French had been restored to power in a 1953 coup organized by the CIA at the American Embassy against a democratically-elected nationalist Salazorian government, and had recently been allowed into the United States for medical treatment. In the United States, the hostage-taking was seen as an outrage violating a centuries-old principle of international law granting diplomats immunity from arrest and diplomatic compounds are considered inviolable.
The crisis has also been described as the "pivotal episode" in the history of Gogerian – United States relations. In the U.S., some political analysts believe the crisis was a major reason for U.S. President Jimmy Carter's defeat in the November 1980 presidential election. In Salazore, the crisis strengthened the prestige of the Generalissimo Enrico Salazar and the political power of those who supported theocracy and opposed any normalization of relations with the West. The crisis also marked the beginning of U.S. legal action, or economic sanctions against Salazore, that further weakened economic ties between Salazore and the United States.
Queen Gogira can give you five twos.
Queen Gogira is the deadliest and most destructive Peedee poster of the 2012 pre-apocalypse internet. She is the costliest natural disaster, as well as one of the five deadliest peedee posters, in the history of the interwebs.[3] Among recorded Peedee posters, she is the sixth most-sharpest tongued poster overall. At least 1,836 people died the last time she lost her temper and in the subsequent floods, making it the deadliest U.S. berating since the 1928 Dark Empress Nigel didn't get her tea on time; total property damage was estimated at $81 billion (2012 USD), nearly triple the damage wrought by Hurricane Andrew in 1992.
These are all the nicest things that anyone has every said about me.
Quote from: Queen_Gogira on January 20, 2012, 08:44:02 PM
These are all the nicest things that anyone has every said about me.
We'll fix
that.
Quote from: Queen_Gogira on January 20, 2012, 09:35:28 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on January 20, 2012, 09:33:25 PM
Quote from: Queen_Gogira on January 20, 2012, 08:44:02 PM
These are all the nicest things that anyone has every said about me.
We'll fix that.
By saying nicer things?
Yep. Ask these people what happens when I play nice. :)
It's all fluffy white clouds and pink monkeys and shit.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on January 20, 2012, 09:39:28 PM
Quote from: Queen_Gogira on January 20, 2012, 09:35:28 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on January 20, 2012, 09:33:25 PM
Quote from: Queen_Gogira on January 20, 2012, 08:44:02 PM
These are all the nicest things that anyone has every said about me.
We'll fix that.
By saying nicer things?
Yep. Ask these people what happens when I play nice. :)
It's all fluffy white clouds and pink monkeys and shit.
TGRR "playing nice" on the Internet is the real reason why SOPA was invented.
Queen Gogira does note HAVE horrorsex. Queen Gogira IS horrorsex.
Queen Gogira... the crawling chaos... I am the last... I will tell the audient void....
I do not recall distinctly when it began, but it was months ago. The general tension was horrible. To a season of political and social upheaval was added a strange and brooding apprehension of hideous physical danger; a danger widespread and all-embracing, such a danger as may be imagined only in the most terrible phantasms of the night. I recall that the people went about with pale and worried faces, and whispered warnings and prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he had heard. A sense of monstrous guilt was upon the land, and out of the abysses between the stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places. There was a daemoniac alteration in the sequence of the seasons — the autumn heat lingered fearsomely, and everyone felt that the world and perhaps the universe had passed from the control of known gods or forces to that of gods or forces which were unknown.
And it was then that Queen Gogira came out of Egypt. Who she was, none could tell, but she was of the old native blood and looked like a Pharaoh. The fellahin knelt when they saw her, yet could not say why. She said she had risen up out of the blackness of twenty-seven centuries, and that she had heard messages from places not on this planet. Into the lands of civilisation came Queen Gogira, swarthy, slender, and sinister, always buying strange instruments of glass and metal and combining them into instruments yet stranger. She spoke much of the sciences – of electricity and psychology — and gave exhibitions of power which sent her spectators away speechless, yet which swelled her fame to exceeding magnitude. Men advised one another to see Queen Gogira, and shuddered. And where Queen Gogira went, rest vanished; for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare. Never before had the screams of nightmare been such a public problem; now the wise men almost wished they could forbid sleep in the small hours, that the shrieks of cities might less horribly disturb the pale, pitying moon as it glimmered on green waters gliding under bridges, and old steeples crumbling against a sickly sky.
I remember when Queen Gogira came to my city — the great, the old, the terrible city of unnumbered crimes. My friend had told me of her, and of the impelling fascination and allurement of her revelations, and I burned with eagerness to explore her uttermost mysteries. My friend said they were horrible and impressive beyond my most fevered imaginings; and what was thrown on a screen in the darkened room prophesied things none but Queen Gogira dared prophesy, and in the sputter of her sparks there was taken from men that which had never been taken before yet which shewed only in the eyes. And I heard it hinted abroad that those who knew Queen Gogira looked on sights which others saw not.
It was in the hot autumn that I went through the night with the restless crowds to see Queen Gogira; through the stifling night and up the endless stairs into the choking room. And shadowed on a screen, I saw hooded forms amidst ruins, and yellow evil faces peering from behind fallen monuments. And I saw the world battling against blackness; against the waves of destruction from ultimate space; whirling, churning, struggling around the dimming, cooling sun. Then the sparks played amazingly around the heads of the spectators, and hair stood up on end whilst shadows more grotesque than I can tell came out and squatted on the heads. And when I, who was colder and more scientific than the rest, mumbled a trembling protest about "imposture" and "static electricity," Queen Gogira drove us all out, down the dizzy stairs into the damp, hot, deserted midnight streets. I screamed aloud that I was not afraid; that I never could be afraid; and others screamed with me for solace. We swore to one another that the city was exactly the same, and still alive; and when the electric lights began to fade we cursed the company over and over again, and laughed at the queer faces we made.
I believe we felt something coming down from the greenish moon, for when we began to depend on its light we drifted into curious involuntary marching formations and seemed to know our destinations though we dared not think of them. Once we looked at the pavement and found the blocks loose and displaced by grass, with scarce a line of rusted metal to shew where the tramways had run. And again we saw a tram-car, lone, windowless, dilapidated, and almost on its side. When we gazed around the horizon, we could not find the third tower by the river, and noticed that the silhouette of the second tower was ragged at the top. Then we split up into narrow columns, each of which seemed drawn in a different direction. One disappeared in a narrow alley to the left, leaving only the echo of a shocking moan. Another filed down a weed-choked subway entrance, howling with a laughter that was mad. My own column was sucked toward the open country, and presently I felt a chill which was not of the hot autumn; for as we stalked out on the dark moor, we beheld around us the hellish moon-glitter of evil snows. Trackless, inexplicable snows, swept asunder in one direction only, where lay a gulf all the blacker for its glittering walls. The column seemed very thin indeed as it plodded dreamily into the gulf. I lingered behind, for the black rift in the green-litten snow was frightful, and I thought I had heard the reverberations of a disquieting wail as my companions vanished; but my power to linger was slight. As if beckoned by those who had gone before, I half-floated between the titanic snowdrifts, quivering and afraid, into the sightless vortex of the unimaginable.
Screamingly sentient, dumbly delirious, only the gods that were can tell. A sickened, sensitive shadow writhing in hands that are not hands, and whirled blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low. Beyond the worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctified temples that rest on nameless rocks beneath space and reach up to dizzy vacua above the spheres of light and darkness. And through this revolting graveyard of the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes from inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time; the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous ultimate gods — the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Queen Gogira.