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Topics - Rev Thwack

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Discordian Recipes / The best fucking appletini ever
« on: January 29, 2013, 08:58:09 am »
So, why an appletini recipe? Well, if you stop before you get to the "add vodka" phase, you'll have an awesome frozen snack that's great when you want something a bit sweet and are tired of everything being filled with bullshit artificial crap.


You need:
2 granny smith apples
1/2 cup sugar
3/4 cup water
vodka (optional)


First you'll need to make a simple syrup. Mix the sugar and 1/2 cup of water in a small saucepan and cook on low, stirring the whole time until the sugar is fully dissolved and the water is no longer cloudy. Dump the syrup in your blender to cool.

Second, peel and core the apples. If you're not good at this there are machines that will do a great job for you. If you're not good at this and poor, you might want to grab three apples... I don't know man, develop some knife skills. Once you have them peeled and cored, chop them into pieces about 1 cubic inch, then dump them in the blender too.

Add the rest of the water to the blender, set to liquify, and go have a smoke... it'll take a bit to get this blended as much as you want. Once it seems like it's pretty well blended, use a cheesecloth or good mesh strainer to separate the liquid from the more solid chunks. Save the liquids, and while you're at it you can save the solids to make a pretty good applesauce wheat bread from... I might have to post that recipe later.


Take the liquid and pour it into an ice cube tray, then toss it in your freezer. It'll take about a day or so for them to set.


When you're ready to get good and drunk (when is that not the case?), pop a few of the applesicles into a glass and cover with vodka. If you blended everything enough then the apple flavor should be nice and strong, the sugar should make the vodka just smooth enough, and the vodka should cure you of that pesky sobriety problem. If for some reason it's hot or you have a sweet tooth and you are worried about things like driving or such, the applesicles make a good little treat by themselves without the vodka... just they're so much better with it.

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Or Kill Me / Join the Autolock for a Cleaner Tomorrow society.
« on: March 18, 2005, 07:36:12 am »
We here at Autolock for a Cleaner Tomorrow know that the only way we can perserve the future for our children is to make sure that there will still be a place here for them. We realize that with all this rampant posting of old, who cares threads, the future will be bleak indeed. You too are invited to help perserve space for future generations by pledging below to help us on our quest to implement a mandatory 5 second autolock on every thread. Only thru this can our offspring's rightfull place in the future be secured.


Rev. Thwack
President, A.C.T.

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Literate Chaotic / Rev Thwack's Story Corner
« on: October 22, 2003, 03:23:40 pm »
I don't think I ever told any of you this, but it was a rather interesting chain of events that brought me here. I had been sitting at work doing my daily routine of downloading porn and flogging the log, when this beautiful woman walked into my office. Now I kind of expected her to start complaining about the fact that there was a picture of some 12 year old asian girl getting a horse dick up the ass on the monitor and my wedding tackle held firmly in my hand. I guess her 90-something years on this planet were interesting ones, for instead of telling me how it was wrong for me to be engaged so, she decided break out some camping equipment she had and started cooking pancakes over a gas stove. Well, if there is anything in this world that I enjoy more than a good wank to underage beastiality, it's pancakes. The smell was completly overpowering... I forgot what I had been doing and turned around, standing too fast without letting go and removing my rod for about the 7th time that week. Needless to say, I was a bit miffed because I knew that I had used the last of my superglue to stick the cat to the celing. With a shrug I threw my dis-member over my back where it glanced off of my lube bottle that had been sitting on top of my monitor. It took a few minutes, but the goo must have shorted out something because the montior imploded with a deafining lack of noise. I never noticed the fire that started engulfing my desk (and french poodle pieces) due to the wonderful taste of the pancakes that I was enjoying. I don't think I ever would have noticed it, if it hadn't been for the fact that the 90-something year old woman ran out of the office screaming about the fire just as I finished a pancake. I instantly considered it my civic duty to track her down and make sure she was ok, since she had taken the pancakes with her. Using my keen sense of smell that I had inherited from my sheepdog father, I followed the 90-something year old woman around the block and down the street, placing me about two blocks away when the first crate of grenades exploded back in my office. It didn't take much longer for me to catch up to her, and with a mighty yell I landed on her back, knocking her to the ground and breaking her left hip. With shouts of "Gimme the pancakes, Bitch!" and "Cook if you want to live!", I continued my morning breakfast of pancakes cooked over a gas stove by a terrified and broken 90-something year old woman. I was completly enjoying my pancakes, and had no moral problems with killing the cop that came to see if we were alright... after all, he should have known better than to ask for a pancake. Well, a few gunfights and many pancakes later, the 90-something year old woman ran out of pancake batter, so of course she had to die. I kind of wandered the street alone for a bit since everyone was either dead or running away. It didn't bother me that I was alone... it kind of felt right that I should be feeling a longing for companionship as well as the longing for pancakes so recently cooked by a 90-something year old woman who is now slumped over dead in the street from a few dozen gunshot wounds to the head.



I still miss those pancakes to this day.

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