Principia Discordia

Principia Discordia => Or Kill Me => Topic started by: hooplala on January 20, 2006, 08:15:00 PM

Title: New Day
Post by: hooplala on January 20, 2006, 08:15:00 PM
While on the subway surrounded by dog-faced boys and urine-smelling women it occurred to me that I do indeed live on the Planet Of The Apes.  Packed back to back and ham to ham people sweated as they picked their noses burping and hiccuping while dreaming of who would get kicked off American Idol and wondering why it was so much more fulfilling than Canadian Idol. 

An elbow in the ear and supposedly turn the other cheek is the answer when slicing the same cheek would be so much more fulfilling.  Bleach blonde babes check their reflections in the dark doors as flickering lights fly by in the background . . . the hair is green and brittle at the ends, the lighting would make Johansen look like George Arliss.

Grinding teeth is not a suitable substitute for quick and hard jabs to the kidneys. 

Children hang from poles like strippers missing legs banging into thick full coats filled with sweat and hate.  Necks so thin and frail a simple Tura Satana chop could take the whole thing off, bounce bounce bouncing down the aisle people feigning horror and fright while secretly screaming WHOOP in the basements of their heads.

Sometimes in crowds such as these the only suitable answer is a chain-saw.
Title: The Subway
Post by: LMNO on January 20, 2006, 08:21:30 PM
Woah....




...That was beautiful.
Title: The Subway
Post by: Cain on January 20, 2006, 08:22:38 PM
They do make great sandwiches though.

8)
Title: The Subway
Post by: LHX on January 20, 2006, 08:44:31 PM
and the horror of the chimes

dear god

the horror
Title: The Subway
Post by: East Coast Hustle on January 20, 2006, 10:18:06 PM
this is exactly why emigrating to Canuckistan is not an option.
Title: The Subway
Post by: LHX on January 20, 2006, 10:21:09 PM
THERE IS NO PLACE TO GO!!!!!!111!11
Title: The Subway
Post by: East Coast Hustle on January 20, 2006, 10:35:52 PM
true enough, but that doesn't necessarily mean that there isn't someplace to BE.
Title: The Subway
Post by: Zurtok Khan on January 21, 2006, 12:27:43 AM
You have entered the region of thud, which is everywhere and no where.
You must now pay the price for entering the region of Thud.
The price is 30$ or a striptease.

I'm done being mystickal now.
Title: The Subway
Post by: DJRubberducky on January 21, 2006, 03:23:06 AM
Striptease it is! :twisted:
Title: The Subway
Post by: Eldora, Oracle of Alchemy on January 21, 2006, 03:40:06 AM
My friend has a funny subway story, she's not here, I am, so here you go.  She breast fed her kid, not on the subway, not on that day anyway.

Soo, on the way home, while all the other people were going home.  Working moms and dads, business men and women, strippers pretending to be one of the above.  So her kid wants a snack, she looks through the bag and gets out some crackers, kid's happy on the subway.  Then the kid wants her dolly, mom looks in the bag, gets out the dolly.  Kid gets the dolly, she's happy.  Snack time for the kid, snack time for dolly.  She lifts her shirt, puts the doll under it and starts making a smacking sound.  As the story was told to me, the women all smiled or laughed quietly, the men all realised they were wearing shoes, "Ooooh, look, I put on shoes today, wow"  Probably not the best story, but some days there are funny times on the subway.
Title: Re: The Subway
Post by: The Good Reverend Roger on January 21, 2006, 03:47:39 AM
Quote from: Baron von HooplaWhile on the subway surrounded by dog-faced boys and urine-smelling women it occurred to me that I do indeed live on the Planet Of The Apes.  Packed back to back and ham to ham people sweated as they picked their noses burping and hiccuping while dreaming of who would get kicked off American Idol and wondering why it was so much more fulfilling than Canadian Idol.  

An elbow in the ear and supposedly turn the other cheek is the answer when slicing the same cheek would be so much more fulfilling.  Bleach blonde babes check their reflections in the dark doors as flickering lights fly by in the background . . . the hair is green and brittle at the ends, the lighting would make Johansen look like George Arliss.

Grinding teeth is not a suitable substitute for quick and hard jabs to the kidneys.  

Children hang from poles like strippers missing legs banging into thick full coats filled with sweat and hate.  Necks so thin and frail a simple Tura Satana chop could take the whole thing off, bounce bounce bouncing down the aisle people feigning horror and fright while secretly screaming WHOOP in the basements of their heads.

Sometimes in crowds such as these the only suitable answer is a chain-saw.

I'm The Good Reverend Roger, and I approve of this misanthropy.