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I think the title prison bitch serves me well at the moment. It was an unintentional pun, but it seems to work.

DAM FIRE ALARMS KEEP DISTRACTING ME!!! as long as i don't drop dead from carbon monoxide poisoning...actually i don't think i would care if that happened.

Cops try to make you afraid of jail, afraid of wronging society in an attempt to make you love the freedom society allows you, but they make you scared of living. Society is like a man who locks you in a room with a rabid dog tied to a wall, and the stack of porn behind him is something we can only dream of having. It is not the best analogy. I should probably work on it more. Let me see...

The dog is the threat, the fear you have to live with as you live in the safety the room gives you, but you also have to live with the restrictions, and consequences of risking taking back what you want. Whatever... you know what I mean. Society is the bitch who scares you by hitting you in the crotch when you are young, lets you know the dog is to be feared otherwise you would be like a child, without fear. It keeps you covering your nuts for the rest of your life.

I was in jail and of course I was miserable. The realization that shit would never be the same. People will always tell you what to do, when you can do it, where you can do it. The only sex you get involves one party getting raped and bloodied up, and becomes a bitch form that point on, unless you get lucky and find a queer.

I was afraid when the cuffs were put on and they shoved me in the back seat. I had just been kicked in the balls. I didn't understand their warnings before because I never spoke their language. I was just a kid living fucking life and I had never thought about what accepting the consequences meant. I never thought about what it meant until it was thrown on me like a bucket of ice. They kicked me in the balls, metaphorically speaking, and I screamed my guts out in the back seat. A nasty image if you take it literally.

I had the right to remain silent, and I made sure I said fuck you. I have the right to remain silent? It was my right and they made damn sure I used it. Fuckers knocked me in the jaw until the swelling and blood I was gargling on didn't let me scream anymore. Damn rights are just as much a freedom as the cuffs on my wrists. I didn't just scream because I was trying at a big fuck you to the society that gave me my rights. I was terrified at the prospect of never again being able to live my life to the fullest.

I would be in jail, choice would be theirs to make for me, the walls would be the ends of my world, and the view outside those windows and beyond that fence were now the painting on the wall of a paradise I could only dream of. The view beyond there was the land of gods who were free of the limits I was now subjected to.

The longer I stayed in there, the more time I had alone to myself. That was time I never gave myself before. I realized the voce in my head had some good things to say. It told me that everything was the same as it ever was. The voice was still me, the body still mine. I still walked around on the ground as any man outside these walls. I had to watch out for anyone who was out to get me, same as it was out in the city with the cops and killers. Whether you are a businessman or a thug on the streets, there is always some unspoken rules to follow that will save your ass. Nothing changed. It was all the same. They were trying to make me follow rules as I had always never done in the city, but one thing they didn't count on, I became comfortable. This was my life, my routine.

When they let me out, I couldn't wait to do whatever the fuck I wanted. The worst they could possibly do to me was have me live my life. The only difference would be to you fucks in the kennel next to mine. They put me in prison and let me know that I was another dog, and that porn was my ball to play with, and the other dog was the bitch to fuck. The bitch is tied to a wall after all.

nothing should typically happen. just walk around describing the world for a bit and something will come out of it. I like the idea of laughingmen being like walking gurus. I would like think I could grow up to be one of them. i do end up laughing at inappropriate moments.

I am actually writing a story about a student researching bum society. I might post something.

did you report the janitor!!!?? send his attempted murdering ass to jail!!!

i liked it. it would definately make my day. i think i need a brush with death everyonce in a while. i might consider pulling a knife on my manager one day.

very catchy. I will have to sing the kill song in my sunday school.

You should try a happy version. Although i might have to argue that this has a happy message. Plot your kill, live your life, its about the act, and not the end.

but you might interpret it differently. Thats just my take on it.

I am going into psychology, and I guess I will find out soon enough, or I could do the research, but while I am searching I will leave this question.

I guess this would fall along the lines of everything that discordianism strives against, but do any test results cause individuals to behave the way they believe they should?

I would flesh it out a bit, and I am sure there people who do this, but i would more interested in the test that tests this behavior.

The test made want to be not me. I am not that morbid am I? Can't be. Call me morbid will you, and i will kill you until you die. INFP. but I vote I don't know. Knowing things makes you less prone to possibilities.

Simply because hate exists in a person and it just so happens to be my favorite state of mind, does not exclude the existence of any other emotion. I love, I hate, I lull, and i rage.

Hate has a negative stigma set to it, and I just want to show that I can hate you kindly. you take this bloody hug and damned well better enjoy it!!! If you never hate your kids, I would have to say you are inhuman, and do not trully feel.

I youth christian in wisconsin was found in his room viciously blog raped by his sunday school teacher. Sources cannot confirm whether the firewall is to blame, or the boy's overlly flirtatious comments, with excessive talk of 'being one with lord jebus'.

If creativity should be free, then we should all be unthinking zombies in the work place. Don't even be creative enough to lift a hand. What one person sees as being dull, may be enjoyable to another, for example some people actually enjoy filing, but not everyone enjoys being creative. But no one enjoys watching anyone file.

And simply because being creative is so enjoyable to a media whore nation, doen't mean it should be a charity. you don't simpply give people food because they are hungry, or because it is right, but because you want to and can do it without starving yourself in the process. so whatever anyone decides, i will have to stare attentively, not giving two shits or allowing it to happen, because i wouldn't stop it if i could.

I will give a bum a dime if he can make me laugh. Nothing against bums, but nothing for them if they don't prove to me they are doing what they want with their lives. I love bums who love themselves.

Something is what happens when nothing blinks.

There was a time when I had the time to spend the time to find a ryme with time that wasn't time. It was in a blog i posted my blog and i named it blog in response to a blog and nonsense....BLOG. no time. i don't get it. nonsense, is the only sense, that makes any.

  who said hate was a bad thing. as long as there is something you can appreciate in life, there is something worth feeling. With understanding comes dissapointment, and loss of meaning, but so long as one can create meaning, especially through hate, I will have to applaud him.  Fuck Your Kindly Kind!!!! I don't believe a word you say!!!!

It has been scientifically proven that seriousness might in some cases possibly be the leading cause of stress. Stress is the equivalent of having highblood pressure, and that causes heart attacks. Those things are known to kill people, and so if you are serious or have anything serious to say on the internet, you support heart attacks, and by default support suicide by blog.

Why are there a bunch of fuzzy yellow things on my screen smiling at me?