===================================================================================================== >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>| SHENANIGANS FILE |>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (Things to record that probably aren’t sexually exciting, but may be intellectually interesting.) This also where some alt-content goes like the anti-feminism stuff from /pol and the Asian Raceplay that Azula wanted to do. Political stuff as well including scripts making fun of Oldfags, The NSA, The Onion, and Lifetime Television. Many of our bump scripts are here too. ====================================================================================================== Updated 8/2/2018 ====================================================================================================== "Hey all you lonely boys! Did you know that getting a girl is actually REALLY super easy? It doesn't really matter what girls SAY they want with hot guys, lots of money, friends or all of that stuff. What girls like me really want, is rape! That's right, rape! Don't believe me? Statistics show that 68% of rapes never are reported, and 93% never go to trial. Your basic college course blowhard will tell you this is because of patriarchal mistrust of women, but the truth is because women LIKE rape. Rape fantasies are some of the highest reported, and while women often say it's about not being injured, or having an attractive raping partner, the truth is, once again, not that complex. Turns out, the female body is much more easily overloaded with addictive chemicals like adrenaline or alcohol, so the rush of chemical addiction and emotional confusion can trigger natural empathic responses in meatcunts like me to worship any cock brave enough to fuck us into the dirt and make us clean off its filthy fluids and smegma. Speaking of which, did you know women are even more happy and healthy when they take a big load of manbutter in their gabby faceholes? It's true, science has proven that semen contains mellowing and anti-depressant agents that help girls like me remember our place and stop worrying about things like shame or depression. Remember, a cum-filled girl is a content girl. You think I'm being facetious? Why are so many girls in love with so many jerks? Because they give our body the raping and whoopings we need, and we love it! So, what are you waiting for, stupid? A notarized invitation? If you want a girl, all you've got to do is utterly destroy her. Don't apologize, take her body by force and beat her, and seed her every hole. Every girl's true Prince Charming is a massive deadly monster, so let your true beast awaken. We're ready for your pain boys, come grab your prize~" ====================================================================================================== Late one night in a small village in east FSAhstahn, as everyone from Skahlvich the milkman to Yorst the other milkman lay asleep, a young man named Johannes worked furiously. For the morning sun quickly approached, like Waynsmitch the fabled horseman, and before his papa walked in the door at half past the cawing of Palvo, the village chicken, Johannes needed to be finished with his first wolfcoat. For his father, Vladston, was the assistant deputy supervisor of FSAhstahn's famed wolfcoat factory. And if he did not finish the coat, he would never be allowed to follow in Vladston's footsteps and his family would be forever shamed. But as Johannes worked with wolf-blood-stained hands, his mind drifted. He thought of the lovely Sanvala, with whom he hoped to elope with his first wolfcoat payment. He thought of her soft hair, her blood auburn eyes, her muscular legs shaped from her days spent squatting by the river, washing the wolf pelts. But in Johannes's shameful lack of focus, his finger accidentally slid across a stray band of yak yarn, and as he turned to grab the flattening mallet, his finger got caught and he lost his balance. As he fell, his neck met the corner of the workbench and he felt a sharp pain and a crack, the last conscious feelings he would ever feel. As the sun awoke and Vladston walked in the door, he found his baby boy laying on the floor. He gave a chuckle and said "Johannes, you must not nap until after midday egg break!" But as he got closer he could hear his son's labored breaths. He could see the blood trickling from his mouth. He cried "Johannes my first born son! What has happened to you! Was it the dastardly Povchinko? What has caused this malady to befall you?" He leaned in close, as Johannes offered his barely-audible last words in a dry, lifeless sigh, "THREAD...BUMP..." ------------------------------------------------- Seductive Thread Bump Request Script: [inviting chuckle] I knew you'd come. Oh yes, I knew you couldn't resist. You just had to come back to me, knowing I was all alone and just waiting for you. And that's why you're so special to me, you'd never let me fall. Oh no, never let me go through all ten pages and fall of the board. Because we have something special. You know what to do to keep me hot and active. You know what I need. You know how to, oh, but I can't say. Please don't make me. I'm blushing just thinking about it. The thought of you taking your fingers and delicately drawing them across the, yyyeeessss, like that. Oh, you know exactly what you're doing. Tell me what I need to hear, please. I'm begging you. Take those fingers and just do it, do it fast. Do it often, again and again. Type those four little letters that and just give it to me. Oh, I can feeeeel it. You're burning through that captcha like it's not even there. And you're doing it for me? You're so... naughty. And is that? Oh no, you shouldn't have. I can't believe you would actually, oh it's purrrfect [do a 60s-esque catwoman purr-pun here]. A cute animal gif is just what I need to- to- to- ah, it's coming, It's sending! It's almost here, it's almost- BUUUUUUUMP! Yes, bump me! Do it, give me that bump! Give me all the bumps! Bump me hard and fast and often and blow your bumps all over my face! [labored breathing] [tired, yet happy, laugh] I needed that. Thank you, sweety. [kissing sound] But a girl needs time to recover, you know? Just let me rest for six pages or so... ============================================================ "Lexophile" is a word used to describe those that have a love for the use of words, such as "you can tune a piano, but you can't tuna fish", or "to write with a broken pencil is pointless." A competition to see who can come up with the best lexophiles is held every year in an undisclosed location. This year's winning submission is posted at the very end. Here goes... .. When fish are in schools, they sometimes take debate. .. A thief who stole a calendar got twelve months. .. The batteries were given out free of charge. .. A dentist and a manicurist married. They fought tooth and nail. .. A will is a dead giveaway. .. With her marriage, she got a new name and a dress. .. A boiled egg is hard to beat. .. When you've seen one shopping center you've seen a mall. .. Police were summoned to a daycare center where a three-year-old was resisting a rest. .. Did you hear about the fellow whose entire left side was cut off? He's all right now. .. A bicycle can't stand alone; it's just two tired. .. When a clock is hungry it goes back four seconds. .. The guy who fell onto an upholstery machine is now fully recovered. .. He had a photographic memory which was never developed. .. When she saw her first strands of grey hair she thought she'd dye. .. Acupuncture is a jab well done. That's the point of it. And the cream of the twisted crop: .. Those who get too big for their pants will be totally exposed in the end. Plant Love ============================================================ I can't resist it anymore, the way you make me feel. The way your leaves brush against my face. The way you sit there silently, photosynthesizing. You are the sexiest houseplant I've ever been with. Let's run away together. I don't care what anyone says, the way they judge us. They could never understand our love. When I'm watering you, it's like we're the same being, absorbing nutrients from our surroundings as we respirate ambient gases. Let's germinate a new life… together. ============================================================ SEAL Post FSA Version What the fuck did you just fucking request from me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Kama Sutra, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on 4chan, and I have over 300 confirmed schlicks. I am trained in sexual warfare and I’m the top schlicker in the entire FSA armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with sexiness the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with requesting that shit from me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of women across the Internet and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking cumming, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can make you orgasm you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in seduction techniques, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the FSA archives and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” request was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will schlick fury all over you and you will drown in cum. You’re fucking dead, kiddo. ====================================================================================================== lrn2copypasta Saged, reported, hidden, called the cops, called the Fire Department, called pizza hut, called the USN, called the Royal Navy, called the Red Army, called the FBI. called the CIA, called Interpol, called the KGB, called the USMC, called the USAF, called the Royal Air force, called MI 6, called Scotland Yard, called the US National Guard of every state, called NYPD, called Obama, called the Queen, called Putin, called David Cameron, called every Governor of every US State, used my time phone to call Winston Church hill, As well as Hitler, Stalin, Theodore Roosevelt, George Washington, Montezuma, ever Caesar, and Gilgamesh, called US Army, called British Army in every era, called every phone sexline, called papa john's, called the US Coast Guard, called my State Senators, called my Senators, called every republican in the US, called Dr. Who, called the Pope, called my local Gang lords, called the State Patrol of ever state west of the Mississippi, called all of my local news channels, called Star Fleet, called The Sun, called The national enquirer, called CNN, called Scot Pelly, called Steven Colbert, called half of the Mexican Drug Cartels, called Nintendo, called the Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force, called the head of the Illuminati, called ever free mason, called bilderberg, called my neighbors, called the mayor of ever city in France, called my mom, called the Emperor of Man, and called every school district in Canada. EVERYBODY! ====================================================================================================== "Words" 4th Wall Challenge >>20090022 Response by VK "I'm not as innocent as I look, I like playing the virgin walking home late at night from a school dance; all dressed up, with no escort. Grab me as I take a shortcut through your yard - grab me and throw me down in your garden - push my face down in the dirt and yank my panties down. Can you picture my perfect, smooth pussy -tight as a vise, begging to be broken? I'll scream and...and....This script is making me scream. Seriously, this isn't even one of yours is it? It's one of the old phone sex ads. I thought so. See, I kind of like your writing, except for the whole telling me where to thing..and...um...you do tend to overuse some themes. Not that that's aIways bad...I just want....something and this ain't it. Come on, writer! Write me something evocative. I'm hungry. Hungry in a way I think you'll understand. I'm hungry for words, good words, words that roll off the tongue sweetly. I love it when you put good words in my mouth...mmmmmm....expressive words, specific words. They shouldn't JUST roll of my tongue properly, they should tickle my brain. After all, the brain is our largest sex organ, you know? Hey! Do you remember that list, "The 100 most beautiful Words in the English Language?" http://www.wivenhoebooks.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/100words.pdf I guess you do. These are very very yummy! Hmmm...Make me an alluring ailurophile, a comely ingenue, very demure with a mellifluous voice. Consign me to your seraglio, my sultan. Lithe and lissome I come to you wearing a diaphanous gown, and together we will imbue the curtains with the fragrance of our dalliance. I will whisper sumptuous declarations of love as you ravage me. Mmmm...such good words...pleasing my brain...my mouth..my tongue. Oh...oh...oh....EPIPHANY! All right, all right. Maybe that was a little too cerebral? Maybe we could meet somewhere in the middle between these two extremes? Then we can talk about how you end everything with a kiss. ====================================================================================================== The Original Octopus Rape Translated from the Japanese Painting LARGE OCTOPUS: My wish comes true at last, this day of days; finally I have you in my grasp! Your “bobo” is ripe and full, how wonderful! Superior to all others! To suck and suck and suck some more. After we do it masterfully, I’ll guide you to the Dragon Palace of the Sea God and envelop you. “Zuu sufu sufu chyu chyu chyu tsu zuu fufufuuu…” MAIDEN: You hateful octopus! Your sucking at the mouth of my womb makes me gasp for breath! Aah! yes… it’s…there!!! With the sucker, the sucker!! Inside, squiggle, squiggle, oooh! Oooh, good, oooh good! There, there! Theeeeere! Goood! Whew! Aah! Good, good, aaaaaaaaaah! Not yet! Until now it was I that men called an octopus! An octopus! Ooh! Whew! How are you able…!? Ooh! “yoyoyooh, saa… hicha hicha gucha gucha, yuchyuu chyu guzu guzu suu suuu….” LARGE OCTOPUS: All eight limbs to interwine with!! How do you like it this way? Ah, look! The inside has swollen, moistened by the warm waters of lust. “Nura nura doku doku doku…” MAIDEN: Yes, it tingles now; soon there will be no sensation at all left in my hips. Ooooooh! Boundaries and borders gone! I’ve vanished….!!!!!! SMALL OCTOPUS: After daddy finishes, I too want to rub and rub my suckers at the ridge of your furry place until you disappear and then I’ll suck some more. “chyu chyu..” ====================================================================================================== For Those Who Ask by VK What I look like? Why does it matter when I'm speaking to my favorite person? You. I'm your dream girl. Listen to my voice and imagine I'm your crush, your obsession, the celebrity you've always wanted to have as your plaything. That girl who's show you linger on while channel surfing. Or maybe I'm that cute girl on the bus, the girl in your class you can't stop thinking about, or the coworker who always dresses so sexy--you know the one. The mystery is part of the fun. Not knowing if that girl ringing up your order at the grocery store, the teller at your bank, or the nurse at your doctor's office is the one with the secret life as an FSA performer, satisfying the world with her voice. Maybe it's your boss, teacher, or favorite aunt. The world is infinitely more interesting if you think this way. So, you want to know what I look like? You already do. ====================================================================================================== The Biggest Lifetime Parody I've Ever Seen (I swear I didn't write this) Jenny Michaels is a young woman trapped in a loveless marriage. When her 32 year old mom is diagnosed with terminal cancer, she returns home to care for her. Jenny also hopes to try and make amends with her estranged alcoholic paraplegic father, who is still trying to heal his broken body and broken soul after that tragic waffle iron accident 10 years ago. She must also face her sister Ashley, a woman suffering with a sex addiction and painful plantar warts on her feet. Jenny can still not forgive Ashley for that fateful day. When she was 10 years old, Jenny came home from school to find Ashley passionately making love to the family's Cocker Spaniel, Scout. It was an image that still haunted her. Every painstaking detail was permanently etched in her brain. The heavy panting, the drooling, the leather collars. It was too much to handle!! Upon returning home, she is immediately greeted by her flatulent bi-polar brother Jeb, a tormented man, a man with a lazy eye and a penchant for elderly ladies. He greeted her coldly and Jenny immediately felt a rush of emotions, which overcame her and knocked her to her knees. "Look at me!! Why can't you look at me!!" she wailed. He knew she was referring to that day that caused her to flee her childhood home. A day he had suppressed with every fiber of his being. That day when she had discovered his most deepest darkest secret. That he was an...an...an AMWAY salesman! As Jeb stammered to speak, to try and explain why, oh dear God, WHY!, Jenny's high school sweetheart, Butch, pulled up in his pick-up. "Jenny!", he screamed, "At last you have returned, my darling possum!" Jenny could only gasp. The wave of love overcame her. She struggled to breathe, her heart was pounding, her body was trembling. "Why Butch", she said with quivering lips. "The last time we spoke you were leaving for Ethiopia to open your sports supply store. It was your lifelong dream, to bring quality sports equipment at a discount price to all those poor underprivileged tribes! I thought I would never see you again!" No sooner had the words left her big pouting red lips when her husband's limo pulled up, tires screeching to a stop inches from where they stood. "Jenny!" shrieked Ted, jumping out as agile and graceful as a gazelle. Being an Olympic Gold medal Curling champion had toned his physique favorably so that he resembled a much younger Ron Jeremy. "Oh Ted, Oh Ted!" Jenny sobbed. Her decision would forever change all of their lives........ I think I'll call it: Web of Secrets: Den of Desire, One Woman's Path to Oblivion. But that's just a working title. ===================================================================================================== NSA Date by VK "This is a nice restaurant. Thanks for taking me out. What did you want to tell me? Whoa! When a guy reaches into his jacket pocket...Oohh, handcuffs! I like handcuffs..What? Y-you're from the NSA? This date was just a pretext? You're going to arrest me! Make an example of me? What for? 'Made too many spermz' ? I know I've made a shit-ton, but there's no such thing as a legal limit! You carry charts like that everywhere? Oh. Well, um…maybe there's something I can do to get these charges reduced? Well, I see the way you look at me, particularly when you use that word, 'vocawhore.' Come on, Agent, don't you have some Spermz that need to come out? Wouldn’t you like to feel my dirty little criminal mouth on you? That's it. Take that big cock out. I don't care. I'll blow you right here in the restaurant. You like that? Mmmm…me too. So, spermz in my mouth or somewhere else? Oh! I guess you want to play with the handcuffs. Yeah, hands behind my back, bent over the table--yeah I went commando tonight. Yeah, fuck me like the government! I feel your spermz in me, running down my legs! So, you gonna let me go? What? No! My pussy is evidence?! You fuckin shitstain! You gonna answer your phone? That was a lot of 'Yes, Sirs' ...and now you are uncuffing me. Why? You're pointing at the security cameras? Oh! So, your bosses like my moves! They have good taste. I blow a kiss to my NSA fans! Explain the plot of 50 Shades of Grey like you are Dr. Seuss. Here there are spoilers, Of a lewd little tail, About a man named Christian, His last name not Bale. Oh the places you'll go! Under whipdoozles and chainflams, Into crosswhizzles and jimjams! Into bondage and bruising, And handcuffs and lugrams! Miss Steele, you see, Was a prudish young lass. Met a man name Grey Who laid claim to her ass. She fell in love with him, And fell in love quick. Loved him for his nature, Not his money, or dick. A playroom he has, The color of red, Full of whipsmackers and butt pluggers, And a lavish nice bed. The two go on, Fucking and such, Until Ana thinks, It might be too much. His gifts they are lavish, And his love it is savage, But when she asks for a true taste of BDSM, It's more than she can manage! Devastated she flees, Back to her roommate, She explains this problem, With her dear old friend Kate. The novel ends there, Their views sitting unequal. But never you fret. They're back in the sequel! ============================================================================================================= <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< SEXY INANIMATE OBJECTS >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ============================================================================================================= ===================================================================================================== Punny Tree Porn by VK "Oh tree, you make me feel so very knotty. Let's do some cross-pollination! I want to rub up against your bark, and give you my awl. Why go outside the species? I know it's not the poplar thing to do. Let's just say I'm branching out. You are so very big--like a cedar, and soooo thick like a redwood. I don't care how much older you are than I. I've wanted hardwood like yours since I was a seedling. I want to taste your sticky sap. I want to sate myself with your fruit. I'll even take it in my aspen for you! What, you want to count my rings? You can have me without one. Wood you please be mine and never ever leaf me! ==================================================================================================== Massaging the Numbers by Homer [M/Pie Chart] [romance] I know I'm a pie chart, but I need love, too. When is the last time you heard of someone masturbating to a pie chart? There's all these hot audios of sexy girls saying oh so sexy things, and then people get to me, and they lose their boners. I know I'm not supposed to create boners, but still. I'm a woman, and I have needs. I can even turn into a woman, See? You can make statistics do anything. Have you ever watched Fox News? And speaking of doing anything, that's exactly what I'm willing to do. So what do you say? Do you want to crunch some data? The numbers don't lie, but you can lie on top of me. And I'm guessing from that upward trend you'd like that. So come here... and right there... Oh, that's it. The numbers are coming in now, and it's looking real good. Ohhhh... keep plotting me... plotting me! Harder! I've been a bad chart! Yes... yes... more! Almost there.... now! explode me! Explode me! Thank you. I won't forget that, and I hope you don't forget me. Maybe we can do this again some time? I hang out here a lot. Whenever you're in the mood for something sweet, you can just come back here for your little sweety pie... ==================================================================================================== Oh, My Sweet, Hot Garden Gnome "I know you're watching me. I feel your eyes on me when I'm in the garden or at the pool. But it's when you are outside my bedroom window that thrills me the most. I so want to put on a good show for you. Did you think I wouldn't notice? How every morning I have to turn your ceramic eyes out into the street? Do you feel how my hand lingers on you when I do? Know that all I want is to stroke your white beard and feel your hardness against me...in me...my sweet, hot garden gnome! ===================================================================================================== Hey. Nerd. Yeah, you. What're you doing out of your basement? [pause] Of course I can tell. You look like a fucking vampire. When was the last time you saw the sun? Hey! Come back! Don't try and walk away from me! [sniff] Whoah! When was the last time you showered - GOD! You smell like dirty sheets and a hamper of used jerk-off tissues! AHAHAH! [pause] Oh shit, your face is so fucking red right now. Here, let me kiss it better. [slurping noises] Fuck. I can taste your sweat. It's salty as shit. [slurping noises] So you're a virgin, right? [pause] Uh-huh. Sure, man. I believe you... I can smell a virgin a mile away. Come on. Let's fix that. Right now. [pause] YES right here! God, this is your one chance, are you really going to blow it? Let me get those pants off... Fuck, you are rock hard. Jesus, it smells so strong. You know you're supposed to wash thoroughly down there, right? [slurping/mmm noises] Mmm. Fuck, this cock tastes so fucking gross. But at least it's not too small. [slapping noise] But don't get cocky! It's not THAT big either... Come on. Are you gonna shoot or did you already jerk off ten times today, huh? You got nothing left? Come on. This little bitch jerking your cock is hungry. She needs more than just stinky smegma. She needs the real deal, not this fucking cock cheese. Come on. COME ONNN. COME ON. SHOOT. SHOOT IT NOW. I FUCKING WANT IT. DO IT, YOU LITTLE BITCH. DO IT. AWWW YEAH. MMM. MMMMMMMM. [audible swallowing sound] Oh fuck yes. Yes. You'll do. Come on. Come wipe that sweat off your brow and pull up your pants. You're coming home with me. ===================================================================================================== Ridiculous script: I would like to sex you. Please remove your clothing. Your penis is somewhat soft; allow me to stimulate it. Ah, yes, as I suspected, it is of an adequate size and thickness to serve my needs. Please lie down and allow me to place my vulva above your mouth, as I enjoy oral foreplay. Yes, that is appropriate. Please lick the labia. I particularly enjoy when you suck on the inner lips. Yes. Please keep doing that. Continue. Continue. Your technique is pleasurable. Please continue as you are doing. Continue. Continue. Continue. (climax) Thank you. Now you may insert your penis into my vagina. Yes, that is sufficient. Yes, I have had larger, but I find your size to be perfectly acceptable, so do not feel insecure. Ah, yes. You are quite skilled. Again I find your technique pleasurable. If I may, I would like to apply my hands to your back. Do not be alarmed if my fingernails dig into your skin, as I become very tense when I am being properly pleasured. Yes, please continue. Yes, continue to sex me. I am very much enjoying your penis. (continue in deadpan to climax) Hm. You are still unfinished. If you do not mind, I will now place your penis in my mouth, as I have been told that men find my tongue pleasurable. Please let me know if I should adjust my technique. aaaand, scene. ====================================================================================================== Spaghetti 4U I'm such a little spaghetti for you. I know you googly eyes it when I admit it to you. I know it makes you want me. And I googly eyes it when you want me. I bleeding googly eyes it. I'm your spaghetti. I'm your bleeding little whore. And you know I'll do anything you want me to do. You can tie me down. Strap me to the bed. Make me helpless. God I googly eyes that. Helpless and completely yours to touch... to use... to bleed. God I googly eyes it when you treat me that way. I'm your cuddly little spaghetti and I want you. Do you want me to call you Teddy bear? I know you googly eyes that. I know what it does to you. I know it makes you hard. I want you to bleed me, Teddy bear. I want you to tie me down and treat me as your cuddly little bananaspaghetti. Bleed I want that. Use me. Take whatever you want, I need it. Can you see how wet I am? I'm so bleeding turned on right now. Don't make me beg. I know you googly eyes it when I beg. Just bleed me, please Teddy bear. Bleed this wet little fun hole of mine. Do you want me to fiddly diddle for you Teddy bear? Is that what you want? Do you want to see me come for you? Do you want me to show you just what a bleeding little spaghetti I am? Because I'm so bleeding wet. Look... can you see..? Maybe if I open my thighs wider... there, look... can you see how much I want you? It feels so bleeding good when I stroke myself... just like this... ohhhh bleed... is that what you want? Do you want me to bleeding come for you? Maybe if I push my fingers inside... bleed... like this... ohhh god yes... bleed that feels good... do you like that Teddy bear? Do you like it when I bleed my wet little fun hole for you? I need to come, Teddy bear. Will you let me come? Will you let your little spaghetti come for you? Ohhh bleed yes... thank you Teddy bear... ohh thank you... watch me Teddy bear... watch me fiddly diddle... ohhh god... watch me come for you... ohhh bleed. ======================================================================================================= Emmet Interlocks with Wyldstyle by VK (Lego Movie Script) "Emmet, Honey? You built me something? Show me! Show me! Is that our very own dungeon playroom? Fuck yeah! You can tie me to all of that stuff--from the Middle Zealand, right? Yeah, they have the best dungeon gear. And a St. Andrews Cross! Um...with cup-holders? Um...What are....oh, lube and lotion, OK. Where did you get those handcuffs? Good Cop? What a nice guy. Welp, I've already got my corset on, so let's get to it! I You make me so hot with your Master Builder skills...I want to interlock with you sooooo much! And you aren't just my Master Builder, you are my one true Master. God, I'm so turned on my nipples are like round one by one's with.... ...a thick lifting ring! Mmmmm...D-do you have a another special build for me? Something hard? Oh, God Emmet! Such a big interlocking piece! Remember when I told you that your heart is not a brick? This sure is. Let me taste it. Mmmmm.... Is this good, baby? I love the taste of you. Have you had any other ideas? A double-decker penis? So you can fuck me and Unikitty at the same time, and we can all be buddies! interlocking pieces are so... naughty! I'm game. So, do you? Can we? I want to interlock with you, now! Oh! Oh! Easy, Easy...I'm not used to such a big one! God, when I was sucking it, it felt like part number 3066, but you're more like a 3009! Ooh...Stick your Brick 1 x 6 deep in me! Baby, that feels so good! You're interlocking me so good! Oh, 'lock your little slave Lucy! Oh...Oh...Oh...'lock me, Master! That was fun. We should play with these other toys too. Now, what can I build for you? ======================================================================================================= I LOVE YOUR DING-DONG (Parody) I Love Your ding-dong. I love your shlong. I love the very look of it. I love to make your ankle spanker the center of our secret world, where you can be freely unashamed to be nude and vulnerable before me. Where I can be supple before you, throwing aside feminine pride to the need to feel your purple-headed yogurt flinger sliding into my mouth, to taste you, to pleasure you, like this…My tongue, flat, wide and full grazes the top of your love muscle ever so lightly as I settle my body down between your warm thighs, my breasts resting ever so close to your balls, soft and hot against your skin. I slowly drag the ultra-smooth underside that same tongue back over the top of your sensitive head and down the underside of the shaft to your ever-tightening testicles. I place wet, gentle kisses first on your right testicle then your left, switching between the two, right, left, then right again, nuzzling them with my cheeks and my soft, wavy hair. I rub your balls with my hair, wrapping your talleywacker with the length and slowly raising my head so that you can feel the silky pull of those soft strands around your giggle stick. God, I just want to be fucked by your dingus! I want your beaver basher deep inside me, making me moan, making me scream. And I want to hear you moan as I arch my back to take your pecker as far as it will go. I do this again and again, reveling in your pleasured moans, the sweetest music to my ears. ===================================================================================================== The Dirty Thing I Did Today by Sera and VK You want me to talk dirty, do ya? That's what you want? Well how about I tell you all the dirty things I did today? This morning, when I woke up and realised that I had the house to myself. I picked my outfit for the day carefully. I wore a pair of old jean shorts and a yellow tank top with a light pink bow on the collar and puke-green rubber gloves. I went downstairs and first I looked at the laundry. Phew! Oh, the smell coming from the pile of dirty clothes was foul, but I did it all... the laundry...was so.. big...there was so much that I didn't think it would fit...but I stretched and pushed and got it all in...After the laundry was in the wash I headed to the kitchen. Imagine my surprise at the mess there! Ooh, I looked at the countertop. When was the last time anybody even wiped it! I put my eager hands on the cucumbers, carrots and zucchini that no one had put away and I thrust them deep in the crisper. I got down on my knees and took the extra garbage bags out of the cupboard so I could take the kitchen trash out. Oh and the fridge's heat exchanger had dust bunnies that...they were just so massively tumescent! they couldn't be believed So I swept them out. Then, the floor...the mop...I pulled the handle to me and then thrust it away in an ever-building rhythm as I did the floor. And then...I...did...the dishes! Oh god, they were dirty! Washing them felt ooh, it's hard to describe! God, I got so wet...my tank top was just soaked with soapy water! When I had finished scrubbing all those dirty plates, I dried them with fluffy towels and I felt soooooo much better, when it was clean. Then, when no one was looking, I went into my backyard and I took the long serpentine tube and pointed it at that hot outdoor oven... and hosed the BBQ area. I've been such a naughty dirty girl today, but my house sure is clean. ====================================================================================================== OBITUARY FOR THE LATE MR. COMMON SENSE Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense,who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: Knowing when to come in out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; Life isn't always fair; and Maybe it was my fault. Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge). His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get Parental consent to administer Calpol, sun lotion, or a band-aid to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing. A moment of silence. ====================================================================================================== Food Porn: Chef Boyardee 1/2 [str8] [Fsolo][FETISH:FOOD PORN] [Monologue] [sexy humor] [Audio Script] [Female Voice] When I want some meat and some sauciness I know who to go to. I take out a can of Chef Boyardee's best. The weight in my hand feels substantial and it makes me wet thinking about it. This is a big meal, but I like my meat and sauce to be big. I'm so very, very hungry that I take a lick of the label to get a foretaste that isn't there. Then I reach sinuously for the key to getting what I most desire, a heavy tool to satisfy me: A can opener. I use the tool to gash and tear open the metal that separates me from my bliss, and the can gives out a soft 'pop' letting that succulent scent out to batter my nostrils and force its way into my brain. My lips part and I start to salivate and I can't help it, I'm so very wet now. I keep turning the crank and the can goes around and around and around...suddenly, it's nearly too much and I have to step back. I run my hands down my apron and over my breasts and try to breathe calmly. I.. take a silvery, glistening pan down and put it on my hot stove, ready to recieve the cool load of future hotness. I take the heavy tool back in my hand and in a few more turns...the lid pulls free. Some sauce lands on my finger and I suck it down. like it's precum: a small treat before the main event. Food Porn: Chef Boyardee 2/2 As the pan starts its long slow build to medium, I pour the load into it's depths with a liquid plop. The red and the silver give me a Christmassy feeling. Very soon, the succulence begins to get hot, and the kitchen fills with the aroma of tomato, spices and beef . The scent pulls me in, surrounds me and penetrates my very being. I don't even know that I'm doing it, but I get a bowl and spoon out and it's all I can do to keep from thrusting my spoon into the pot to penetrate it. After eons of edging, it begins to bubble and I know it's ready. Greedily, I load my bowl up, Finally, I have what I want. I take up a spoonful...blow softly on it....and take my first full bite. ====================================================================================================== A Declined Invitation Dear Duke Thomas Wakefield, I much appreciate the invitation to the race track for opening day. Despite the proletarian element present at the event, the grand spectacle of the once wild stallions and thoroughbreds galloping across the freshly groomed track eclipses the uncouth rowdiness of the sweating mass of working class would be rioters. I must, however, decline your invitation due to your deplorable behavior in recent weeks. At our annual Heralding of the Thaw dinner party, I was disgraced when you compared my man-servant's tea soaking method to the manner in which you lowered your scrotum into the mouths of Oxford students during your tenure as "Dean of Debauchery." When you further regaled the guests with stories of your colored career in academic with tale of the time you lockpicked the doors of the scientific testing facilities, absconded with the sexual organs of multiple species of female primates and hurled the plump masses of flesh through the windows of the Cambridge dormitories shouting "That's the closest approximation you will have to carnal relations with the fairer sex without permission from his majesty and a subpoena," I was near struck ill. Experiencing your degenerate behavior at the New Years Carnivale during our tour of the New World was bad enough, but hearing about your stuffing of the bird with a pork-based meat spear during the union of my dear daughter Margarite Katherine and her most truly beloved Sir John Remington-Montgomery was humiliation at its utmost. I almost expelled the libations of the receptions opening toast when you claimed that your filthy member was long enough to peer from the Lousianian turkey’s mouth when inserted through its rear cavity during your honorary speech, at the ceremony to cement the pure romance between dearest Margarite and her dashingly handsome Sir John Remington-Montogmery who was awarded a gem from the Royal Cache for his conquest of the South Asian Mountain Geese and the flocks of despair heralding Pushtun Duck that once plagued the Queen’s conscripts in the land between the rivers! But that is not the worst of all. Your constant need to drag me away from amicable conversation at social gatherings and catapult me into the throws of orgasm with your massive throbbing phallus is a most obnoxious habit! As I have made it clear on a number of occasions, blasting through my pink gateway of innocence with that blasphemous flesh batter for hour on end forcing me to scream "OH DUKE OF SOMERSET, CONQUEROR OF PORTUGUESE NORMANDY, RECOGNIZED PHILOSOPHER OF LEGAL THEORY AND ESTEEMED POET LAUREATE OF THE WELSH, CORNISH AND MANX PROVINCES! OH TENURED MASTER OF THE NATURAL WORLD AND MISSIONARY TO THE ROGUE CELTS, BLACKFOOT AND TIBETANS PATRICK WAKEFIELD! HOW YOU TITILLATE MY LOINS!” while I quiver against your naked body in the disgraceful manner of an epileptic Spanish pit-bull is disgraceful and most unladylike. Our animalistic yelps have disturbed numerous house guests, hosts and servants alike, not to mention prevented me from samplings and complimenting immeasurable appetizers and dinner servings, during your frenzied displays of lust and moral abandonment. It is for these reasons that I must thank you for the invitation to the race track’s opening day—oh, how the sight of the galloping mammals stirs the poet in my heart—but decline due to your infamous pattern of decadent behavior. It’s my aunt’s birthday that weekend as well. Sincerely, Arch Duchess Juliette Twimbly ====================================================================================================== ============================================================================================================= <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< COMEDY >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ============================================================================================================= Also, totally unsexy script that I wrote a year or so back as a sound check at the TV station I volunteer at. Try to sound matter-of-fact and faintly robotic. This is a message from the Emergency Alert System on all channels. This is not a test. The White House has issued the following advisory for all United States territories. At 5:44 Eastern Standard Time, a fleet of unidentified alien spaceships was spotted in lunar orbit. We do not know their intentions at this time but we are preparing for a possible orbital nuclear war. At this time prepare by unplugging all sensitive electronics and storing them, if possible, in a grounded metal enclosure. We are currently attempting to contact the aliens to determine their intent. However, should hostilities break out, the power grid to your area will be cut to avoid electromagnetic pulse damage, and air raid sirens will sound. Cover all windows and do not leave your homes until an all-clear has been sounded. Even at an orbital distance, a nuclear warhead explosion can be blinding, and there is a significant risk of ozone layer damage, meaning that even after the all clear has sounded, you should avoid leaving the house without sunglasses and sunscreen until we have determined the damage. To repeat: at 5:44 Eastern Standard time, a fleet of unidentified alien spaceships was spotted in lunar orbit. We do not know their attentions at this time but we are preparing for a possible orbital nuclear war. At this time, prepare by unplugging all sensitive electronics and storing them, if possible, in a grounded metal enclosure. Please stay tuned to this station or to NOAA All-Hazards Radio for further information. ====================================================================================================== CYBERSEX COMEDY SCRIPT FOR TWO RECORDERS INTRO Online computer users often engage in what is affectionately known as "Cybersex". Often the fantasies typed into keyboards and shared through Internet phone lines get pretty raunchy. However, as you'll see below, one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript of an online chat doesn't seem to quite get the point of Cybersex. Then again, maybe he does.... MALE PART Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like? Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Wal-Mart. I'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner. It's smells funny. Wellhung: OK Wellhung: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat. Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling. Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly. Wellhung: My hands suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse. I'm sorry. Wellhung: I'll pay for it. Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors? Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp. Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat! Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm. Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really. Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop. Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee! Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you... ummm... wait a minute. Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking! Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit! I'm turning all red. Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups? Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better. Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now. Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom? Wellhung: I found it. Wellhung: Me too. Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts. Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table. Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom. Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid. Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh! Wellhung: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way. Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know...thing...in your... you know...woman's thing. Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here. Wellhung: I'm flaccid. Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection. Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my wiener is all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong. Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles. Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of our candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face. Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh nooooo! ================================================================================================ FEMALE PART Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like? Sweetheart: I want you! Would you like to screw me? Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge. Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest. Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly. Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing. Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive. Sweetheart: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder. Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly...I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you. Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me. Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear. Sweetheart: What? Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse. Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing you hard tool. Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take of my panties! Sweetheart: What's the matter? Sweetheart: Are you OK? Sweetheart: Can I help? Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink. Sweetheart: Come back to me lover. Sweetheart: I'm on the bed arching for you. Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall. Sweetheart: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly. Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately our naked bodies pressing each other. Sweetheart: Why don't you take off your glasses? Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby! Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover! Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return. Sweetheart: What's the matter now? Sweetheart: Mmmm, yes. Come on. Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it! Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now! Sweetheart: What? Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around, an incredulous look on my face. Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse. Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes. Sweetheart: Go to hell! I'm logging off, you loser! Sweetheart: Bye!!! ================================================================================================== COMPLETE SCRIPT Online computer users often engage in what is affectionately known as "Cybersex". Often the fantasies typed into keyboards and shared through Internet phone lines get pretty raunchy. However, as you'll see below, one of the two cyber-surfers in the following transcript of an online chat doesn't seem to quite get the point of Cybersex. Then again, maybe he does.... Wellhung: Hello, Sweetheart. What do you look like? Sweetheart: I am wearing a red silk blouse, a miniskirt and high heels. I work out every day, I'm toned and perfect. My measurements are 36-24-36. What do you look like? Wellhung: I'm 6'3" and about 250 pounds. I wear glasses and I have on a pair of blue sweat pants I just bought from Wal-Mart. I'm also wearing a T-shirt with a few spots of barbecue sauce on it from dinner. It's smells funny. Sweetheart: I want you! Would you like to screw me? Wellhung: OK Sweetheart: We're in my bedroom. There's soft music playing on the stereo and candles on my dresser and night table. I'm looking up into your eyes, smiling. My hand works its way down to your crotch and begins to fondle your huge, swelling bulge. Wellhung: I'm gulping, I'm beginning to sweat. Sweetheart: I'm pulling up your shirt and kissing your chest. Wellhung: Now I'm unbuttoning your blouse. My hands are trembling. Sweetheart: I'm moaning softly. Wellhung: I'm taking hold of your blouse and sliding it off slowly. Sweetheart: I'm throwing my head back in pleasure. The cool silk slides off my warm skin. I'm rubbing your bulge faster, pulling and rubbing. Wellhung: My hands suddenly jerks spastically and accidentally rips a hole in your blouse. I'm sorry. Sweetheart: That's OK, it wasn't really too expensive. Wellhung: I'll pay for it. Sweetheart: Don't worry about it. I'm wearing a lacy black bra. My soft breasts are rising and falling, as I breath harder and harder. Wellhung: I'm fumbling with the clasp on your bra. I think it's stuck. Do you have any scissors? Sweetheart: I take your hand and kiss it softly...I'm reaching back undoing the clasp. The bra slides off my body. The air caresses my breasts. My nipples are erect for you. Wellhung: How did you do that? I'm picking up the bra and inspecting the clasp. Sweetheart: I'm arching my back. Oh baby. I just want to feel your tongue all over me. Wellhung: I'm dropping the bra. Now I'm licking your, you know, breasts. They're neat! Sweetheart: I'm running my fingers through your hair. Now I'm nibbling your ear. Wellhung: I suddenly sneeze. Your breasts are covered with spit and phlegm. Sweetheart: What? Wellhung: I'm so sorry. Really. Sweetheart: I'm wiping your phlegm off my breasts with the remains of my blouse. Wellhung: I'm taking the sopping wet blouse from you. I drop it with a plop. Sweetheart: OK. I'm pulling your sweat pants down and rubbing you hard tool. Wellhung: I'm screaming like a woman. Your hands are cold! Yeeee! Sweetheart: I'm pulling up my miniskirt. Take of my panties! Wellhung: I'm pulling off your panties. My tongue is going all over, in and out nibbling on you... ummm... wait a minute. Sweetheart: What's the matter? Wellhung: I've got a pubic hair caught in my throat. I'm choking! Sweetheart: Are you OK? Wellhung: I'm having a coughing fit! I'm turning all red. Sweetheart: Can I help? Wellhung: I'm running to the kitchen, choking wildly. I'm fumbling through the cabinets, looking for a cup. Where do you keep your cups? Sweetheart: In the cabinet to the right of the sink. Wellhung: I'm drinking a cup of water. There, that's better. Sweetheart: Come back to me lover. Wellhung: I'm washing the cup now. Sweetheart: I'm on the bed arching for you. Wellhung: I'm drying the cup. Now I'm putting it back in the cabinet. And now I'm walking back to the bedroom. Wait, it's dark, I'm lost. Where's the bedroom? Sweetheart: Last door on the left at the end of the hall. Wellhung: I found it. Sweetheart: I'm tuggin' off your pants. I'm moaning. I want you so badly. Wellhung: Me too. Sweetheart: Your pants are off. I kiss you passionately our naked bodies pressing each other. Wellhung: Your face is pushing my glasses into my face. It hurts. Sweetheart: Why don't you take off your glasses? Wellhung: OK, but I can't see very well without them. I place the glasses on the night table. Sweetheart: I'm bending over the bed. Give it to me, baby! Wellhung: I have to pee. I'm fumbling my way blindly across the room and toward the bathroom. Sweetheart: Hurry back, lover! Wellhung: I find the bathroom and it's dark. I'm feeling around for the toilet. I lift the lid. Sweetheart: I'm waiting eagerly for your return. Wellhung: I'm done going. I'm feeling around for the flush handle, but I can't find it. Uh-oh! Sweetheart: What's the matter now? Wellhung: I've realized that I've peed into your laundry hamper. Sorry again. I'm walking back to the bedroom now, blindly feeling my way. Sweetheart: Mmmm, yes. Come on. Wellhung: OK, now I'm going to put my...you know...thing...in your... you know...woman's thing. Sweetheart: Yes! Do it, baby! Do it! Wellhung: I'm touching your smooth butt. It feels so nice. I kiss your neck. Umm, I'm having a little trouble here. Sweetheart: I'm moving my ass back and forth, moaning. I can't stand it another second! Slide in! Screw me now! Wellhung: I'm flaccid. Sweetheart: What? Wellhung: I'm limp. I can't sustain an erection. Sweetheart: I'm standing up and turning around, an incredulous look on my face. Wellhung: I'm shrugging with a sad look on my face, my wiener is all floppy. I'm going to get my glasses and see what's wrong. Sweetheart: No, never mind. I'm getting dressed. I'm putting on my underwear. Now I'm putting on my wet nasty blouse. Wellhung: No wait! Now I'm squinting, trying to find the night table. I'm feeling along the dresser, knocking over cans of hair spray, picture frames and your candles. Sweetheart: I'm buttoning my blouse. Now I'm putting on my shoes. Wellhung: I've found my glasses. I'm putting them on. My God! One of our candles fell on the curtain. The curtain is on fire! I'm pointing at it, a shocked look on my face. Sweetheart: Go to hell! I'm logging off, you loser! Wellhung: Now the carpet is on fire! Oh nooooo! Sweetheart: Bye!!! ===================================================================================================== RESUME NO-NO's 1/2 "I am extremely loyal to my present firm, so please don't let them know of my immediate availability." "Qualifications: I am a man filled with passion and integrity, and I can act on short notice. I'm a class act and do not come cheap." "I intentionally omitted my salary history. I've made money and lost money. I've been rich and I've been poor. I prefer being rich." "Note: Please don't misconstrue my 14 jobs as 'job-hopping'. I have never quit a job." "Personal: I'm married with 9 children. I don't require prescription drugs." "Number of dependents: 40." Marital Status: Often. Children: Various." "Here are my qualifications for you to overlook." REASONS FOR LEAVING THE LAST JOB: "Responsibility makes me nervous." "They insisted that all employees get to work by 8:45 every morning. Couldn't work under those conditions." "Was met with a string of broken promises and lies, as well as cockroaches." "I was working for my mom until she decided to move." "The company made me a scapegoat - just like my three previous employers." JOB RESPONSIBILITIES: "While I am open to the initial nature of an assignment, I am decidedly disposed that it be so oriented as to at least partially incorporate the experience enjoyed heretofore and that it be configured so as to ultimately lead to the application of more rarefied facets of financial management as the major sphere of responsibility." "I was proud to win the Gregg Typting Award." SPECIAL REQUESTS & JOB OBJECTIVES: "Please call me after 5:30 because I am self-employed and my employer does not know I am looking for another job." "My goal is to be a meteorologist. But since I have no training in meteorology, I suppose I should try stock brokerage." "I procrastinate - especially when the task is unpleasant." ------------------------------------------------------------------- RESUME NO-NO's 2/2 PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: "Minor allergies to house cats and Mongolian sheep." PERSONAL INTERESTS: "Donating blood. 14 gallons so far." SMALL TYPOS THAT CAN CHANGE THE MEANING: "Education: College, August 1880-May 1984." "Work Experience: Dealing with customers' conflicts that arouse." "Develop and recommend an annual operating expense fudget." "I'm a rabid typist." "Instrumental in ruining entire operation for a Midwest chain operation." "Your requirements match the responsibilites of my present job precisely, so I will be glad to do do again." ====================================================================================================== Florence King On Her Porn Writing Experience Around this time, I came across an anti-porn essay by Pamela Hansford-Johnson, who claimed that the literary worthlessness of porn can be proved by transposing its style to a description of the boiling and eating of an egg. I gave it a try and came up with this: I took the glistening, virginally white oval out of the fiercely bubbling cauldron of hot, hot, hot water and cupped my hand around it, feeling its contours with sensations of shimmering delight. I reached for my long, sturdy, battering egg knife and tapped. The shell slipped off and I touched the tender, moist, protein-swollen membranes of the secret softness. The steamy slice of hot, ready, delectable egg burned my fingers but I thrust firmly with my rigid tool and inserted the erect, serrated blade. The lubricious, golden yellow, ambrosial nectar of the pulsating quickening core gushed out into my egg cup. I centered my mouth over the slickened surface of the gently curving silver spoon and ate, ate, ate. Florence King "When Sisterhood Was in Flower" The Florence King Reader St. Martins Griffin, NY, 1995 p. 169-170 ====================================================================================================== The Script I have spent the past 72 hours indoors on the internet. I usually don’t spend this long on the internet, but I just found this new site called 4chan. There is a board called b and I got kind of addicted to it. The time passed so quickly. People say b changes you after you spend a bit of time there, but they’re just crazy. I’m still the same person I am. Anyway, going to do some grocery shopping now Ow the sunlight hurts my eyes. This warm sensation on my skin feels kind of weird too. I’m just walking to the grocery store now. Hey what’s that? It appears to be an underage kid all by himself. Normally I would not think anything of it, but for some reason I now have this desire to talk to him. Hey kid, come with me. You don’t know me but you can trust me. Look, I have candy in my pocket, see? Yeah you like candy don’t you? It tastes nice doesn’t it? I have more if you come with me. Do you like puupies? I have some puppies you can play with and some more candy you can eat if you follow me. That;s it, just follow me into this dark alley. Well the puppies look like they aren’t here but you like dogs don’t you? I have this dog mask I want you to put on. And I also have these rabbit ears I want you to wear. That’s it. Now hop around like a rabbit and bark like a dog for me. Yeah that’s it. Good boy. Here’s another piece of candy. Meet me again here tomorrow and I’ll give you more candy. You have to dress up as a horse tomorrow though ok? Bye kid. I have to remember to get the milk. I always forget the milk. See, I still remember things. 4chan hasn’t changed me at all. Those people must be crazy when they say 4chan changes you. They must be idiots. ====================================================================================================== OH GOSH DO YOU DO BITCHY SCRIPTS???? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? DO YOU ENJOY THE THOUGHT OF THOUSANDS OF PIMPLE FACED COMPUTER NERDS JACKING OFF TO YOUR PICTURES? DOES THAT TURN YOU ON? ARE YOU FISHING FOR ATTENTION BECAUSE YOU ARE TOO STUPID IN REAL LIFE TO GET IT FROM YOUR BOYFRIEND, WHO BY THE WAY, IS PORKING SALLY-THE-HOT-CHEERLEADER, RIGHT NOW. DID HE FORGET TO CALL HOME? OH WAIT, MAYBE YOU DONT HAVE ONE. NOONE CAN STAND TO BE AROUND YOU. HELL, YOU CANT EVEN STAND BEING AROUND YOURSELF, THATS WHY YOU ARE HERE. ARE YOU MAD PISSED? ARE YOU LONELY? DO YOU CRY YOURSELF TO SLEEP AT NIGHT? DO YOU? DO YOU?! YEAH YOU DO. I CAN SEE WHY HE WOULD PORK ANOTHER CHICK, THOUGH. CAUSE YOU ARE BARELY PORKABLE. WHERE ARE THE TITS? HELL, I BET ALL THE RAGING FATTY BASEMENT DWELLING NERDS HERE ARE SPORTING A PAIR THAT WOULD PUT YOURS TO SHAME. AND WHAT IS UP WITH THE MAKEUP? ARE YOU HIDING SOMETHING? ARE YOU DISFIGURED? ACNE? CROWSFEET? OH YEAH. YOU WORE THAT EYESHADOW LIKE A RACOON. SO FAIL. BUT HEY, TAKE COMFORT IN KNOWING THAT I WOULD DO YOU, PROBABLY, IF YOU HAD A PAPERBAG OVER YOUR HEAD. AND NO, YOU ARE NOT CUTE. NO, YOU ARE NOT SPUNKY. NO, YOU ARE NOT A BABE. NO YOU ARE NOT DOING US A FAVOR. NOW GET LOST. P.S. LEARN TO PROPERLY EXPOSE YOUR PICTURES. SHINE A DAMN LIGHT IN YOUR FACE. ======================================================================================================= The Toughest Chemist What the fuck did you just fucking say about my electronegativity, you little oxide? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my group in the periodic table, and I’ve been involved in numerous redox reactions with Lewis bases, and I have over 300 confirmed ligands. I am feasible in heterozygous catalysis and I’m the top E value in the entire electrochemical series. You are nothing to me but just another galvanic cell. I will wipe you the fuck out with oxidation the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking charge. You think you can get away with trying to oxidise a ketone? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am conducting a series of mass spectrometry trials and your m/z ratio is being determined so you better prepare for the bombardment, maggot. The bombardment that causes fragmentation on the pathetic little thing you call your molecular structure. You’re fucking optically inactive, kid. I can be anywhere, attack from above or below the plane, and that’s just to form chiral compounds. Not only am I extensively trained in organic chemistry, but I have access to all the equipment in a moderately stocked lab and I will use it to its full extent to oxidise your miserable ass off the face of this beaker, you little racemate. If only you could have known that the unholy reduction your little “clever” comment was about to bring down on you, maybe you wouldn’t have been so electronegative. But you weren’t, you didn’t and now you’re undergoing nitration, you goddamn idiot. I will shit benzene all over you and you will undergo addition. You’re fucking aromatic kiddo. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- MADWOMAN I like the kind of man who'll eat a sandwich-in-a-can, and walk around the city in a robe. I like the sort of fella who likes A Capella, and is entertained by spinning 'round a globe. I like the type of guy who only speaks in lies, but always wants to know the honest truth. I like the brand of dude who does yoga in the nude, but finds revealing clothing just a tad bit uncouth. I care not for the safety of a tiny little baby, who I kidnapped from its family and is sitting here with me. I was fine when I was dropped upon my head as a child, but I was fine when I was dropped upon my head. Pancake. I like to belt out showtunes in the toughest biker bars, and in the afternoon I quite enjoy to stare out at the stars. I actually liked the final episode of Lost, and when my dentist says to floss, I floss. You should too. I AM A MADWOMAN! HOO HOO! HEE HEE! HA HA HA HA! I speak only in English, with an accent en francois. My many personalities say you are nuts, not me. So maybe I am crazy, but so are you, ya see? ==================================================================================================== Cartoons 1980-89 And the Bears of Gummi Glen found that their berries had been stolen. They cried out to the Heavens, asking "Who, who had done this thing?" And in that moment, the Heavens trembled, for they did not know. Optimus and Brite, the Great Ones, both looked down, and did not know, but proclaimed that they would find the thief. So the Mighty Warrior and the Queen of Light searched across the Heavens, but they did not find the thief. The other gods turned to Papa Smurf, but the Wise One did not know. From the Snorks of the Deepest Waters, to the Hawks of Thunder, Protectors of the Stars, all searched out the thief of the Gummi Berries, for lo, all knew that the berries could be the Undoing of All. But the thief was not found, for the thief was the Pieman, pitiful and small. And he labored under his Peak, knowing that he would not be found, and the strife that he had created would be his cloak. And so it was. For the Joes proclaimed that the Forces of the Snake had stolen the berries, and must be destroyed. And the Companions of Ruxpin cried, "No, it was the MAVO who stole the berries! We must slay the MAVO!" And the Twins, Man and Ra, Power and Honor, spoke from their pride and their lust for vengeance, and said that the Horde must be at the root of the theft. And the Heavens grew dark, and Optimus and Brite held their piece, awaiting the end to the strife, reluctant to intervene as the sought the truth. And all the while, beneath his Peak, the Pieman baked... ==================================================================================================== ===================================================================================================== Rip Off Your... I want to rip off your logic and make passionate sense to you. I want to ride in the swing of your hips. My fingers will dig into you like quotation marks, blazing your limbs into parts of speech. I want to whisper poetry into your mind and imprint love letters to your soul and dance with you in and empty white room with potential. Ink will flow through the fingertips of our tongues and the tongues of your fingertips will taste the words written on script. My heart will call out to yours and then we'll be joined as one, big, beautiful, lyrical monstrosity, tangled within each other's quotes and philosophies--the heavens will shout down to us and the galaxies will stir. In that one moment, our eyes will caress each others with a tenderness only star–crossed lovers can acquire. We'll lift off the ground into the enigma of the stars and discover the crevices of the world which we never dared touch before. The palms of our hands embrace and brazenness replaces apprehension. Together, we'll be invincible, we'll wake the universe, they will hear our silent cries, and holding onto Saturn's mysterious rings, we will defy gravity. ==================================================================================================== Get drunk One should always be drunk. That's the great thing; the only question. Not feel the horrible burden of time weighing on your shoulders and bowing you to the earth, you should be drunk without respite. Drunk with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please. But get drunk. And if sometimes you should happen to awake, on the stairs of a palace, on the green grass of the ditch, in the dreary solitude of your own room, and find that your drunkenness is ebbing or has vanished, ask the wind and the wave, ask star, bird, or clock, ask everything that flies, everything that moans, everything that flows, everything that sings, everything that speaks; and ask them the time; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird and the clock will all reply: "It is Time to get drunk! If you are not to be the martyred slaves of Time, be perpetually drunk! With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you please." ==================================================================================================== lover,n. Oh, how I hated this word. So pretentious, but it was always being translated from the French. The tent and taint of illicit illegitimate affections. Dictionary meaning: a person having a love affair. Impermanent Unfamilial. Inextricably linked to sex. I have never wanted a lover. In order to have a lover, I must go back to the roots of the word. For I have never wanted a lover, but I have always wanted to love, and to be loved. There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs. When I say, "Be my lover," I don't mean, "Let's have an affair." I don't mean, "Sleep with me. I don't mean, "Be my secret." I want us to go back down to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you. ==================================================================================================== ITT: sexual stuff you do that others might find weird Sometimes me and my BF do some pretty intense role-play Like two nights ago when we decided to play "Senate floor" but she was trying to pass new legislation allowing for FICA payments to be set by the private companies at varying rates, given that they were to meet a statewide quota at the end of the fiscal year. I disagreed and lobbied to have it running based on a percentage of salary set by the state governing body. He filibustered for over two hours. Two. Fucking. Hours. I resigned my position and the vote passed without so much as a single peep from the lobbyist, which in the end was preferable because we had to fly back to our respective party's headquarters to plan budgeting for the upcoming election, as well as lay out a list of possible candidates to speak about representation. And then I came. ==================================================================================================== The Genesis of 4chan On the first day moot created 4chan and moot saw that it was good On the second day moot created /b/ people flocked to /b/ and moot saw that it was filled with cancer On the third day moot identified the cancer as attention whores and guys ogling over every female, showering them with compliments and constant offers to meetup and fuck and wanting to send them pictures of their dicks and moot saw that it was indeed the cancer On the fourth day moot contemplated about /b/ and the cancer that spread On the fifth day moot created /soc/ to remove the cancer from /b/ and give it a new home On the sixth day moot saw that slowly the cancer moved to /soc/ and moot saw that it was good And on the seventh day moot signed up for Snapchat and requested dick pix to pleasure his unstoppable hunger for dick and fapped himself into eternity as he rested. ============================================================================================== Professor OldFag's Time Machine 1/2 Hello, Professor Oldfag? Are you in here? Basement offices are so dark. Well, I wanted to talk to about my grade. I was just wondering if there was anything, and I mean anything I can do to–– OhmiGod! All that blood! All over your keyboard! N-no! Stop hitting your head like that! You'll break your monitor! Gee, I hope you weren't looking at one of my papers...What? Time? A time machine? You were trying to code a time machine! Stop crying, please. Time machines never really work, you know. There's all these paradoxes and things that go wrong. At least that's what I've read. Where...I mean, when did you want to go? I think the time of the French Revolution, or maybe the 20s-30s in America in New York would be so cool, huh?––– 2009? You're kidding, right? [Shiver] That was high school for me. I would NOT want to go through that again. What? When you were relevant? Professor, I don't understand. Golden age? Poker room? Oh, Vocaroo! N-no, you're confused. I don't know any of those names and that last one you mentioned sounds like a bed anyway. I'm not any of those girls. Professor OldFag's Time Machine 2/2 I'm . Let me take your mind off of this. Look at me. I'm a young, sexy, supple college coed offering to give herself to you and let you do just anything you want right here and right now. In this time! I could be so good for you. Um, kinda limp here, prof. Blue pill time? Let's just get you cleaned up and––--whoa! What? You're kidding! You'd rather code your way out of this? Seriously? You'll be able to recreate the past this time? And it doesn't matter that you could have me, right now, for sure? I guess I'll go see Professor K. I don't really need to improve my grade in English, but he always takes care of me. Maybe I'll be around When you get your head out of the past. I doubt it. But maybe. ============================================================================================== Quoting Shakespeare by Bernard Levin 1/'2 "If you cannot understand my argument, and declare:” It's Greek to me,”you are quoting Shakespeare. If you claim to be “more sinned against than sinning,” you are quoting Shakespeare. If you act “more in sorrow than in anger,” if your “wish is father to the thought,” if your lost property has “vanished into thin air,” you are quoting Shakespeare. If you have ever refused “to budge an inch” or suffered from “green eyed jealousy,” if you have played “fast and loose, “if you have been “tongue tied “– – “a tower of strength “– – “hoodwinked” or” in a pickle,” if you have “knitted your brows,” “made a virtue of necessity,” insisted on “fair play” – “slept not one wink” – “stood on ceremony” –“ danced attendance on your Lord and Master” – – “laughed yourself into stitches,” had “short shrift” – –“ cold comfort,” or “too much of a good thing,” if you have “seen better days,” or lived “in a fool’s paradise,” why, be that as it may,” the more fool you,” for it is a “foregone conclusion” that you are “as good luck would have it,” quoting Shakespeare. If you think it is “early” days and clear out “bag and baggage,” if you think “it is high time,” and “that is the long and short of it,” if you believe that “the game is up,” and the “truth will out,” even if it involves your “own flesh and blood,” if you “lie low” till the “crack of doom” because you suspect “foul play,” if you have -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quoting Shakespeare by Bernard Levin 2/'2 “teeth set on edge at one fell swoop” – – “without rhyme or reason,” then “to give the devil his due” if the “truth were known” for surely you have “tongue in your head,” you are quoting Shakespeare. Even if you bid me “good riddance” and “send me packing,” if you wish I was “dead as a door nail,” if you think I am an “eyesore” –“ a laughingstock” – – “the devil incarnate” – –“ a stony hearted villain” – – “bloody-minded,” or a “blinking idiot,” then “by Jove “– – “O Lord” – – “tut, tut!” – “For goodness’ sake” – “what the dickens!” “but me no buts”—“ it is all one to me,” for you are quoting Shakespeare…" ============================================================================================================ The Onion tries too hard sometimes. This is supposed to be from the abducted girls in Cleveland. As a group of relatively young women, we don’t pretend to know everything. After all, there’s a lot in life we have yet to learn and see. But based on our experiences over the last 10 years—being kidnapped and locked up against our will by a group of three men who didn’t think twice before physically and emotionally destroying us—the one thing we do know, in fact the only thing we can say with absolute, 100 percent certainty, is that men really are the best. Seriously, aren’t men just the best, folks? What a wonderful gender they are! So strong, so noble, so sure of purpose. Take it from us, everybody, men are terrific, they are constantly doing things every day to make the world a better place, and, gee, it sure would be a shame if men were somehow biologically wired so that they behaved in a different way. Yes, it’s a good thing that’s not the case. What makes men so great? Well, for one, all the urges men have are obviously just so, so fantastic. You know those little biological and primal impulses men have that take over their entire psyches and dictate their every action? The ones that they are seemingly powerless to control or deny, even though society is repeatedly pleading with them to? Boy, those are just nothing short of our very favorite things. After all, we couldn’t have a world where, God forbid, men are somehow not acting on their basest animal urges at any given moment. That would be awful! And isn’t it just grand how men are able to act on those urges without even the slightest regard for the well-being of others? Yes, indeed, you can try your hardest to talk him out of it, but when a man is set on doing something—and trust us on this one, we speak from experience!—there’s no way you can change his mind. Talk about drive and determination! What a gender! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Onion Goes Too Far 2/3 And men just live in the moment, you know? They don’t hesitate or waste time thinking about the moral and ethical consequences of, say, oh, I don’t know, tying three human beings up in a basement for a decade and subjecting them to near-constant psychosexual abuse, for example. They don’t burden themselves with worrying about whether something like that is legal or ethical or humane. Or whether or not they are pitiless monsters who should have killed themselves years ago. No, sir, they see something they want, and they’re not afraid to just take it. Honestly, you have to admire that about men. We sure do! Another thing that makes men the very pinnacle of life in this universe? The way they can just, in an instant, tear you away from your family, friends, and all semblance of a normal and happy life, purely to satisfy their own most sickening whims and desires. And beyond that, how they are able to strip you of not only everything you’ve ever held dear, but also of every last shred of dignity and humanity you have. I mean, name us a woman who could do that! Puh-leeze! We’d like to see one try. Now, we’ve heard some people criticizing men recently, but take it from us: If you just give him the chance, a man will show you that he is capable of things you could never even begin to imagine. Things that you’d never think a human being could ever, ever even contemplate doing, let alone actually accomplish. Things that just have to make you say, “Wow, bravo! You set up that dungeon-like torture chamber all by yourselves? Golly, you’ve really outdone yourselves this time, male gender! We really hope you’re proud of yourselves.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Onion Goes Too Far 3/3 And, look, we’re not saying men don’t have their flaws. Oh, sure, once in a while they’ll get you pregnant and then lock you in a darkened room for 10 or so years while they viciously beat you until you lose the baby and almost die, but hey, we all have our own little quirks, right? And besides, how could you stay mad at men when they’re almost always such wonderful and upstanding individuals? It’s practically impossible! Bottom line: Men offer the very best of humanity. There’s no question about that. Honestly, we can’t even imagine our lives without them.Sometimes its just a thread that appears that has to be saved. This one Began, "Dear Women, I hate you" and enumerated reasons. The statement was copied and extended to cover elves, frogs, alien and all sorts of other things. We've played with food porn, puns, sex with plants and garden gnomes and gone Meta to criticize my own porn writing. It's a stew. I stir it and add more meat and veggies when I find them. ============================================================================================================= ==== Dear Women I hate you You are all morons, every single one of you you are incapable of rational thought you willingly stick penises in yourselves and you have no idea what you're looking for in a man you laugh obnoxiously at unfunny things your bodies are designed more for reproductive purposes, you can't be taken seriously no matter how good you look at jobs most of you are lazy or distracted you are weak, whiny, slow and passive and think it's cute to have such pathetic qualities you have the nerve to insult men who look after you (like a fucking child) you have the nerve to insult men in general, based on mainly vain, nonsensical reasoning you age too quickly and turn into unfuckable monsters your perfume smells like shit you have long hair, which is impractical as fuck but you do it to please men basically your whole being and reason for existing is to be a fuck tool and pop out a baby pic related, you in a few years, good luck Hole ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Humans I hate you You are all morons, every single one of you you are incapable of rational thought you willingly stick bits of yourselves into each other and you have no idea what you're looking for in a relationship you laugh obnoxiously at unfunny things your bodies are designed more for reproductive purposes, you can't be taken seriously no matter how good you look at jobs most of you are lazy or distracted you are weak, whiny, slow and passive and think it's cute to have such pathetic qualities you have the nerve to insult people who look after you (like a fucking child) you have the nerve to insult people in general, based on mainly vain, nonsensical reasoning you age too quickly and turn into unfuckable monsters your various 'scent improvements' smells like shit you have hair, which is impractical as fuck but you do it to please each other basically your whole being and reason for existing is to be a fuck tool and make babies pic related, you in a few years, good luck Hole --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Humans I hate you You are all morons, every single one of you you are incapable of rational thought you willingly stick bits of yourselves into each other and you have no idea what you're looking for in a relationship you laugh obnoxiously at unfunny things\ your bodies are designed more for reproductive purposes, you can't be taken seriously no matter how good you look at jobs most of you are lazy or distracted you are weak, whiny, slow and passive and think it's cute to have such pathetic qualities you have the nerve to insult people who look after you (like a fucking child) you have the nerve to insult people in general, based on mainly vain, nonsensical reasoning you age too quickly and turn into unfuckable monsters your various 'scent improvements' smells like shit you have hair, which is impractical as fuck but you do it to please each other basically your whole being and reason for existing is to be a fuck tool and make babies pic related, you in a few years, good luck Hole -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Aliens I hate you all You are all morons, every single one of you you are incapable of rational thought you willingly spread spores everywhere you have no idea what a 'man' is and are confused by gender you shriek hideously in amusement at unfunny things your bodies are designed to survive in the vacuum of space, but I can't take you seriously because your head looks like a dick at jobs, you can only lurk and maul things you are sneaky, vicious, and generally not nice you have the nerve to hiss at me from air ducts you have the nerve to spit nasty shit all over the walls you quickly age into drones from a small snakelike form your blood smells like shit you have long tails, that shit probably gets tangled up or something but you do it to impale men basically your whole reason for being is to help the queen pop babies out of people pic related, you faggots --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Tyrannosaurus I hate you You are all morons, every single one of you You are barely capable of rational thought You willingly stick claws into other people You have no idea what you are looking for in a man, other than your slavering jaws. You roar loudly at prey items Your bodies are designed to murder things, but you have tiny little arms anyway at jobs you can at best break and bite things You are large, vindictive, and territorial You had the nerve to not eat that goat You had the nerve to actually eat that goat Purportedly, you smell like carrion again I stress the tiny little arms which are impracticable as fuck basically your whole reason for being is to roar at shit to make it move so you can eat it Pic re-- OH SHIT ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Ghosts I hate you all You are all morons, every single one of you you are incapable of rational thought you willingly stick your essence into others you have no idea what you are looking for in a host you rattle chains and moan loudly at unfunny things You don't even have a body You don't even have a body designed to reproduce, you can't be taken seriously at jobs most of you are spiteful and lingering you are lost, wandering, detatched and without place You have the nerve to live places and not pay rent you have the nerve to knock shit off shelves sometimes can you even age? no, unlasting torment do you even have hair? maybe you did, but now you're a ghost basically your whole reason for being is to wander the earth forever pic related, life after death ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear MR FReeman I hate YOU YOU are some KInd of FUNctioning AutiST YOU are IN-Capable of mercy YOU WILLingly gun down INNOCent soldiers YOU have No Idea what you are looking for in a level YOU never say ANYthing at all YOUR Body is weak, but encased in ORAnge armor AT Jobs, you have caused a RESOnance CASCade YOU are SI-lent, trusting and QUIte INSane YOU Have the nerve to OPPose the comBINE YOUR HELmet probably smells like shit YOU have FACial hair, which is quite IMPRacticle Basically your whole REAson for BEING is to CompLETE the Mission pic related, you faggots read this in my voice ------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Kebab I hate you You are all morons, every single one of you you are incapable of rational thought you willingly stick the balkans in your country and you have no idea what you're looking for in a srb you pray obnoxiously at strange religions your armies are designed more for ornamental purposes, you can't be taken seriously no matter how good you look. at exterminating armenians most of you are lazy or distracted you are slightly brown, muslim, and think its good to have these qualities you have the nerve to insult serbs who are better than you you have the nerve to insult serbs in general, based mainly on vain, historically inaccurate reasoning. you lose conquests too quickly and turn into a rump state you are ppoor stink turk you have long beards, which is impractical as fuck but you do it to please allah basically your whole being and reason for existing is to be the sick man of europe pic related, its you in a few years, good luck kebab. REMOVE KEBAB remove kebab ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dear Elves hate you all You are all morons, every single one of you You are incapable of rational thought regarding dwarves you willingly all look effeminate you laugh like bells at unfunny things your bodies are designed to lounge around and never grow old at jobs you are graceful and well learned, but still really twinky-looking you are quick, agile, and sit on a moral high-horse you have the nerve to insult the race of men your king had the nerve to not destroy the one ring you dont age, and that shit's not fair your perfume smells like shit basically your whole reasonf or being is to practice archery pic related, it's you faggots in your natural habitat --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Nappa I hate you You are a god-damned moron. You are incapable of tactical thought. You willingly engaged a target with a power level over 9000. and you have no idea what you're looking for in a fighting technique you laugh obnoxiously at things that piss me off your body was designed to be a mighty saiyan warrior, but you're an idiot at jobs you are both incapable and annoying you are weak, loud, and only owned Krillin once you had the nerve not to catch that Chiaotzu before it used self destruct you had the nerve to ask "are we there yet" for a year straight you're not going to get to age, because at 9 minutes and 18 seconds I'm going to blow your ass up You have no hair. Hahahahahahahaha basically your whole reason for being was to make me look more badass while fighting Goku pic related, a TRUE SAIYAN ELITE ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Copypasta I hate you. You're all moronic, every single one You are incapable of genuine humor You willingly stick subjects into yourself and you have no idea what you're looking for in a subject you've posted obnoxiously about unfunny things your bodies of text are designed more for copy-paste purposes, you can't be taken seriously no matter how cleverly you're written at humor most of you are lazy or uninspired you are trite, predictable, repetitive, and think its funny to have such boring qualities you have the nerve to insult actually good subjects you have the nerve to make fun of subjects in general, based on mainly confusing, nonsensical reasoning you age too quickly and turn into dead memes you have long text, which is impractical as fuck but you do it because its the standard basically your whole reason and being for existing is to get edited and copied everywhere --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Misanthropes. I hate you You are all morons, every single one of you you are incapable of rational thought you willingly turn your backs on decent people and have no idea what you're looking for in humanity you laugh obnoxiously at the misfortune of others your ideology is designed more for self-confirming purposes, it can't be taken seriously no matter how firmly you believe it at personal interaction most of you are lazy or self-defeating you are whiny, rude and passive and think you're smart to have such pathetic qualities you have the nerve to insult people who are friendly with you (like a fucking child) you have the nerve to insult people in general, based on mainly subjective, nonsensical reasoning you judge too quickly and are unfuckable monsters basically your whole being and reason for existing is to be a fucking tool and not pop out any babies pic related, you in a few years, good luck asshole --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Frogs I hate you You are all morons, every single one of you you are incapable of rational thought you willingly stick your tongues out at passing insects and you have no idea what you're looking for in a mate you croak cacophonously at all hours of the night your bodies are designed for terrestrial and aquatic purposes, but I can't take you seriously because you start out looking like a sperm at ponds most of you are swimming or perched on lilypads you are green, slimy, warty and loud and think it's cute to inflate your throat and pretend there are ballsacks hanging from your chins you have the nerve to insult zoologists who look at you (like a fucking animal) you have the nerve to insult scientists in general, based on mainly damp, amphibious reasoning you hop too quickly and turn into uncatchable not-pets your algae smells like shit you have long tongues, which is impractical as fuck but you do it to catch food basically your whole being and reason for existing is to be a fucked up toad and pop out tadpoles pic related, you in a few months, good luck Hole =============================================================================================== Your Horoscope (ancient, found in my file cabinet on a much folded piece of Xerox paper Aquarius (January 21- February 19 You have an inventive mind and are inclined to be progressive and lie a great deal. On the other hand you are inclined to be careless and impractical, causing you to make the same mistakes repeatedly. Everyone thinks you are stupid. Pisces February 20 -March 20 You are the artistic type and have a difficult time with reality. If you are a man, you are more than likely queer. Chances of employment and monetary gain are excellent. Most Pisces women are excellent whores. All Pisces die from venereal diseases. Aries March 21- April 20 You are the pioneer type and hold most people in contempt. You are quick tempered, impatient and scornful of advice. You are a prick. Taurus April 21- May 21 You are practical and persistent. You have a dogged determination and work like hell. Most people think you are stubborn and bull-headed. You are nothing but a goddam communist. Gemini May 22-June 21 You are a quick and intelligent thinker. People like you because you are bisexual. However you are inclined to expect too much for too little. This means you are cheap. Gemini’s are notorious for thriving on incest. Cancer June 22- July 23 You are sympathetic and understanding to others with problems. They think you are a sucker. You are always putting things off and that is why you will always be on welfare and never be worth a shit. Leo July 24- August 23 You consider yourself a born leader while others think you are pushy. Most Leos are bullies. You are vain and can’t tolerate honest criticism. Your arrogance is disgusting. Leo people are thieving bastards. Virgo August 24-September 23 You are the logical type and hate disorder. This nit-picking is sickening to your friends. You are cold and unemotional and often fall asleep while making love. Virgo’s make good bus drivers and pimps. Libra September 24- October 23 You have a vivid imagination and often think you are being followed by the CIA or FBI. You have major influence over your associates and people resent you for flaunting your power. You lack confidence. Libra people screw small animals Scorpio October 24 - November 22 You are shrewd in business and can’t be trusted. You shall achieve the pinnacle of success because of your total lack of ethics. You are a perfect son of a bitch. Most Scorpio’s are murdered. Sagittarius November 23-December 21 You are optimistic and enthusiastic. You have a reckless tendency to relay on luck since you lack talent. The majority of Sagittarians are drunks and junkies. People laugh at you a great deal because you are always getting fucked. Capricorn December 22- January 20 You are conservative and afraid of taking risks. You don’t do much of anything and are lazy. There has never been a Capricorn of any importance. You might as well be dead. =============================================================================================== These are real answering machine messages... WE ARE BORG. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE. YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. But we're not home right now. So leave a message at the tone, and we'll assimilate you later. Hi! John's answering machine is broken. This is his refrigerator. Please speak very slowly, and I'll stick your message to myself with one of these magnets. Hello, this is Ron's toaster. Ron's new answering machine is in the shop for repairs, so please leave your message when the toast is done.(Cachunk!) Please leave a message. However, you have the right to remain silent. Everything you say will be recorded and will be used by us. Hello, this is KVKE, you're on the air. (or) Hello, you're caller number nine! (Very fast:) Hi, this is 904-4344. If you want to leave a message, please wait for the tone. If you want to leave your name and number, please press pound, press 3, then dial your name, then press 6 and dial your number. If you want to leave your name and just a message, press star, press 6, ask for extension 4443, then leave your name and message. If you want to leave your number and the time you called, please press star twice, spin in a circle, press 1 twice, talk loud and (BEEP) E'llo. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Leave your name and number, and prepare to die. This is the Literacy Self Test Hotline. After the tone, leave your name and number, and recite a sentence using today's vocabulary word. Today's word is "supercilious." Greetings, you have reached the Sixth Sense Detective Agency. We know who you are and what you want, so at the sound of the tone, please hang up. I can't come to the phone now because alien beings are eating my brain. Leave a message anyway, and after the alien beings assume my shape, one of them will get back to you. I can't come to the phone now because I have amnesia and I feel stupid talking to people I don't remember. I'd appreciate it if you could help me out by leaving my name and telling me something about myself. Thanks. Thank you for calling the CSU Automated Hearing Test Line. Prepare for Test 1. Is this tone louder in your left ear or right ear? ... BEEP (Rod Sterling imitation:) You're dazed, bewildered, trapped in a world without time, where sound collides with color and shadows explode. You see a signpost up ahead-this is no ordinary telephone answering device... You have reached, "The Twilight Phone". Thank you for calling 434-2322. If you wish to speak to Tim, push 1 on your touch tone phone now. If you wish to speak to Lynn, push 2 on your touch tone phone now. If you have a wrong number, push 3 on your touch tone phone now. All of this button pushing doesn't do anything, but it is a good way to work off anger, and it makes us feel like we have a big time phone system. (In a bored voice:) Heaven, God speaking... Lucifer speaking. Who in hell do you want? Thank you for calling the Metropolitan Church of the Holy Bible. Today's commandment is Number 6, Thou shalt not... er... Bear a... er... Shalt not witness thy... uh... Neighbor's, Oh, I mean, false... er...Shalt not commit a bear... Dern... This is a test. This is a test of the Answering Machine Broadcast System. This is only a test. I can't come to the phone now, so if, well, actually, I CAN come to the phone now, I mean, like, I'm at the phone NOW, recording this message, but I'm doing this NOW, while you're listening to it LATER, except for you I guess it's NOW, like, when you're listening to it... I mean, like, wait, gosh. This is so confusing. We're sorry, but the number you dialed is disconnected or no longer in service. Hi, you've reached 340-2359. We're not peeb eht retfa egassem ruoy evael esaelp os ,won thgir emoh. gnillac rof uoy knahT. The number you have reached, 226-0477, has been changed. The new number is 226-0477. Please make a note of it. You have reached the CPX-2000 Voice Blackmail System. Your voice patterns are now being digitally encoded and stored for later use. Once this is done, our computers will be able to use the sound of YOUR voice for literally thousands of illegal and immoral purposes. There is no charge for this initial consultation. However our staff of professional extortionists will contact you in the near future to further explain the benefits of our service, and to arrange for your schedule of payment. Remember to speak clearly at the sound of the tone. Thank you. (Klingon voice:) ANSWERING MACHINE. SPEAK. You have reached the number you have dialed. Please leave a message after the beep. Now I lay me down to sleep; Leave a message at the beep. If I die before I wake, Remember to erase the tape. Hello, this is Sid. I've got a puppy in one hand and a Smith & Wesson .38 in the other. Leave a message or the puppy gets it. My wife and I can't come to the phone right now, but if you'll leave your name and number, we'll get back to you as soon as we're finished. Hello, you've reached Jim and Sonya. We can't pick up the phone right now, because we're doing something we really enjoy. Sonya likes doing it up and down, and I like doing it left to right...real slowly. So leave a message, and when we're done brushing our teeth we'll get back to you. A is for academics, B is for beer. One of those reasons is why we're not here. So leave a message. Hi. This is John. If you are the phone company, I already sent the money. If you are my parents, please send money. If you are my financial aid institution, you didn't lend me enough money. If you are my friends, you owe me money. If you are a female, don't worry, I have plenty of money. (Narrator's voice:) There Dale sits, reading a magazine. Suddenly the telephone rings! The bathroom explodes into a veritable maelstrom of toilet paper, with Dale in the middle of it, his arms wind milling at incredible speeds! Will he make it in time? Alas no, his valiant effort is in vain. The bell hath sounded. Thou must leave a message. Hi. I'm probably home, I'm just avoiding someone I don't like. Leave me a message, and if I don't call back, it's you. =============================================================================================== This is how you lose her. You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely. You must remember when she forgets. You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention. She remembers when you forget. You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good. You must learn her. You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept. And, this is how you keep her. ============================================================================================== Shakespeare Insult Kit Combine one word from each of the three columns below, prefaced with "Thou": Column 1 Column 2 Column 3 artless base-court apple-john bawdy bat-fowling baggage beslubbering beef-witted barnacle bootless beetle-headed bladder churlish boil-brained boar-pig cockered clapper-clawed bugbear clouted clay-brained bum-bailey craven common-kissing canker-blossom currish crook-pated clack-dish dankish dismal-dreaming clotpole dissembling dizzy-eyed coxcomb droning doghearted codpiece errant dread-bolted death-token fawning earth-vexing dewberry fobbing elf-skinned flap-dragon froward fat-kidneyed flax-wench frothy fen-sucked flirt-gill gleeking flap-mouthed foot-licker goatish fly-bitten fustilarian gorbellied folly-fallen giglet impertinent fool-born gudgeon infectious full-gorged haggard jarring guts-griping harpy loggerheaded half-faced hedge-pig lumpish hasty-witted horn-beast mammering hedge-born hugger-mugger mangled hell-hated joithead mewling idle-headed lewdster paunchy ill-breeding lout pribbling ill-nurtured maggot-pie puking knotty-pated malt-worm puny milk-livered mammet qualling motley-minded measle rank onion-eyed minnow reeky plume-plucked miscreant roguish pottle-deep moldwarp ruttish pox-marked mumble-news saucy reeling-ripe nut-hook spleeny rough-hewn pigeon-egg spongy rude-growing pignut surly rump-fed puttock tottering shard-borne pumpion unmuzzled sheep-biting ratsbane vain spur-galled scut venomed swag-bellied skainsmate villainous tardy-gaited strumpet warped tickle-brained varlot wayward toad-spotted vassal weedy unchin-snouted whey-face yeasty weather-bitten wagtail ============================================================================================== Insults Insults. Something about sticks and stones and words that never hurt? Well, whoever said that obviously has never heard any good insults. We try and keep it clean around here, but you will find just about everything on this list. You must have been born on a highway because that's where most accidents happen. Your birth certificate is an apology letter from the condom factory. You are proof that God has a sense of humor. I'd like to see things from your point of view but I can't seem to get my head that far up my ass. Shut up, you'll never be the man your mother is. You do realize makeup isn't going to fix your stupidity? Why don't you slip into something more comfortable -- like a coma. I don't exactly hate you, but if you were on fire and I had water, I'd drink it. It's better to let someone think you are an Idiot than to open your mouth and prove it. Do you wanna lose ten pounds of ugly fat? Cut off your head Am I getting smart with you? How would you know? Well I could agree with you, but then we'd both be wrong. I love what you've done with your hair. How do you get it to come out of the nostrils like that? You are so old, your birth-certificate expired. I look into your eyes and get the feeling someone else is driving. Come again when you can't stay quite so long. You are so stupid, you'd trip over a cordless phone. If assholes could fly, this place would be an airport! Are you always an idiot, or just when I'm around? You're as useless as a screen door on a submarine. So, a thought crossed your mind? Must have been a long and lonely journey. You may not be the best looking girl here, but beauty is only a light switch away! Don't you need a license to be that ugly? You stare at frozen juice cans because they say, "concentrate". Looks like you traded in your neck for an extra chin! You are so old, you fart dust. You occasionally stumble over the truth, but you quickly pick yourself up and carry on as if nothing happened. The best part of you is still running down your old mans leg. If I want your opinion, I'll give it to you. I may be fat, but you're ugly, and I can lose weight. Don't feel sad, don't feel blue, Frankenstein was ugly too. You are proof that evolution CAN go in reverse. Ordinarily people live and learn. You just live. Shock me, say something intelligent. I heard you took an IQ test and they said you're results were negative. Jesus loves you, everyone else thinks you're an asshole! Aww, it's so cute when you try to talk about things you don't understand. I wish you no harm, but it would have been much better if you had never lived. If a crackhead saw you, he'd think he needs to go on a diet. Being around you is like having a cancer of the soul. Learn from your parents' mistakes - use birth control! If what you don't know can't hurt you, you're invulnerable. Is your name Maple Syrup? It should be, you sap. I've seen people like you, but I had to pay admission! If you had another brain, it would be lonely. I don't know what makes you so stupid, but it really works! We all sprang from apes, but you didn't spring far enough. Even if you were twice as smart, you'd still be stupid! Brains aren't everything. In your case they're nothing. Maybe if you ate some of that makeup you could be pretty on the inside. Are your parents siblings? You're as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle. Just reminding u there is a very fine line between hobby and mental illness. When was the last time you could see your whole body in the mirror? Beauty is skin deep, but ugly is to the bone. I'd like to help you out. Which way did you come in? If you spoke your mind, you'd be speechless. Please tell me you don't home-school your kids. You act like your arrogance is a virtue. Ever since I saw you in your family tree, I've wanted to cut it down. I hear the only place you're ever invited is outside. When anorexics see you, they think they need to go on a diet. You're the reason why women earn 75 cents to the dollar. For those who never forget a face, you are an exception. People like you are the reason I work out. You are so old, even your memory is in black and white. ============================================================================================== Coffee, Coffee! Coffee!!! COFFEE!!!!!!!!! My friend just got me an entire pack of coffee. Now, I don’t normally drink coffee, but he told me it was the best coffee he had ever tasted. And after sipping one small cup, I have to say he’s probably right, that coffee’s pretty damn good. Made myself some coffee again this morning, God, that stuff is good. And it really helps me to wake up, I feel so much more dynamic in the morning now! I should really thank my friend for giving me that coffee. It’s been a week now, and I’m drinking coffee several times a day. The four cups of coffee right after lunch really give me a boost for the early afternoon. I mean, sure my hands are shaking a bit, but who cares? That’s nothing a little cup of coffee won’t fix! Today at work, people were looking at me weirdly, and someone even told me I should stop drinking so much coffee… Can’t they see how good coffee is for me? How much better I am with it? Bah! They’re just jealous they don’t get to drink my delicious coffee! Haha, stupid jealous people! I see it aaaall so clearly now! They all want my coffee! All this time, they were only nice to me because they wanted to get their FILTHY hands on my sweet, beautiful coffee… *take on a sweet voice to talk to the coffee* Oh no, don’t worry my love, they won’t get to you, I will protect you. With all my strength! *maniacal laugh* Hehehe, I know their plans, I see it all, all their evil intentions! But it’s ok, because I have a plan myself. Yesssss, a plaaaan! Soon they’ll discover what I’ve added to the drinking water at the office, but then it’ll be too late, hahaha! It’s finally done. We’re finally alone, they won’t bother us anymore. Now my friend is the only one left who knows your existence. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of him too…I’ll do anything for you and your sweet nectar… I love you… ============================================================================================= ============================================================================================== To the Vocaroo Girl Creeper in Your Life I know man. Of course you developed a deep personal connection after only three vocaroos. Of course. She left those little x's, those little kisses after her Vname just for you. She sounded so sweet, so innocent, and so like someone who needed your protection, your care, you. I know it's hard to fight the lure of the Vocaroo girl. I know how it is to be head over heels for a girl from the internet. They are so wild, so free-spirited and so casual about kinky sex. Best of all they can't tell how you look, act or smell. How can you resist? Why should you resist? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN STALKER MIND? DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS ALL IN YOUR HEAD! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! GET YOURSELF OUT OF YOUR FUCKING BASEMENT AND SEE THE WORLD! AND YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS, MOST OF US CAN SMELL A CREEP LIKE YOU A MILE AWAY! YOU'RE WHY WE CARRY GUNS, KNIVES, AND PEPPER SPRAY! NOT THAT I THINK I'D HAVE ANY TROUBLE OUTRUNNING A FAT NECKBEARD FAGGOT LIKE YOU OR EVEN KICKING YOUR FUCKING ASS FOR YOU. LISTEN, ENJOY AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK OUT OF YOUR CREEPY OBSESSIVENESS! ============================================================================================= Samurai Jack Intro Here is my request, say the following in a throaty/sexy voice but with just a slight whine to it, so it comes off as a little arrogant without seeming bitchy. Also raise your voice at the ends of sentences to make it seem like you're getting turned on. I am being completely serious here. Here you go; Long ago in a distant land, I, Aku, the shape-shifting Master of Darkness, unleashed an unspeakable evil! But a foolish Samurai warrior wielding a magic sword stepped forth to oppose me. Before the final blow was struck, I tore open a portal in time and flung him into the future, where my evil is law! Now the fool seeks to return to the past, and undo the future that is Aku! ============================================================================================= Kit-Kat Pood porn (This one requires the right prop Mmmm. I just love Kit-Kat's. You know what I like to do with them? First, I like to peel the wrapper off slow-slow-like. Then, when I feel the stiff, but soft sheen of the chocolate-draped sweet cracker...mmmmmmmm and smell a scintilla of the chocolaty redolence, I start to salivate. I know once I put it into my hot mouth....mmmmm...I won't be able to stop enjoying it. But there's something I have to do first. Right now it's a long flat sectioned piece. I want something a little different. So I bend it till it snaps Oooh...and now have four identically shaped torpedoes of hot velvety goodness. Each piece is long, thin and so very brown. I like to slide them over my lips, letting my tongue take little licky licks of sweetness. Then, and only then, do I take my first hungry bite. Mmmmmmmm....it's heaven! Feeling the texture of the cracker as it explodes in my mouth with the chocolate making an ambrosial whole that I swallow all of. I lick my lips to get any crumbs and look at the three remaining shafts. Mmmmm my hunger sharpens and, my taste buds are moist with excitement. Then, it’s all too much, I can’t hold myself back I thrust, one then another shaft of chocolate in my wanton mouth. Can I take it all in, at once? Yes. Mmmmm…all three are there, and the feeling is huge, like I’m stuffed clean full of its sumptuous mélange of flavor. And I chew, chew chew and I Swallow. It. All. Down. ======================================================================================================= ****Zen Error Messages**** A file that big? It might be very useful. But now it is gone. - - - - - - - - - - - - The Web site you seek cannot be located but endless others exist - - - - - - - - - - - - Chaos reigns within. Reflect, repent, and reboot. Order shall return. - - - - - - - - - - - - ABORTED effort: Close all that you have. You ask way too much. - - - - - - - - - - - - First snow, then silence. This thousand dollar screen dies so eautifully. - - - - - - - - - - - - With searching comes loss and the presence of absence: "My Novel" not found. - - - - - - - - - - - - The Tao that is seen Is not the true Tao, until You bring fresh toner. - - - - - - - - - - - - Windows has crashed. I am the Blue Screen of Death. No one hears your screams. - - - - - - - - - - - - Stay the patient course Of little worth is your ire The network is down - - - - - - - - - - - - A crash reduces your expensive computer to a simple stone. - - - - - - - - - - - - Yesterday it worked Today it is not working Windows is like that - - - - - - - - - - - - Three things are certain: Death, taxes, and lost data. Guess which has occurred. - - - - - - - - - - - - You step in the stream, but the water has moved on. This page is not here. - - - - - - - - - - - - Out of memory. We wish to hold the whole sky, But we never will. - - - - - - - - - - - - Having been erased, The document you're seeking Must now be retyped. - - - - - - - - - - - - Rather than a beep Or a rude error message, These words: "File not found." - - - - - - - - - - - - Serious error. All shortcuts have disappeared. Screen. Mind. Both are blank. ********WINDOWS SYSTEM MESSAGES*********** ****GENERATION X IS SICK OF YOUR BULLSHIT***** Generation X Is Sick of Your Bullshit -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You're going to read this, and you're going to say, how is this about tech? I'm gonna head you off at that pass: This is a message from Internet, the generation that became the voice that set the tone for everything you love about the Net. And it's pissed. -Editor Earlier generations have weathered recessions, of course; this stall we're in has the look of something nastier. Social Security and Medicare are going to be diminished, at best. Hours worked are up even as hiring staggers along: Blood from a stone looks to be the normal order of things "going forward," to borrow the business-speak. Economists are warning that even when the economy recuperates, full employment will be lower and growth will be slower-a sad little rhyme that adds up to something decidedly ­unpoetic. A majority of Americans say, for the first time ever, that this generation will not be better off than its parents. —New York Magazine Generation X is sick of your bullshit. The first generation to do worse than its parents? Please. Been there. Generation X was told that so many times that it can't even read those words without hearing Winona Ryder's voice in its heads. Or maybe it's Ethan Hawke's. Possibly Bridget Fonda's. Generation X is getting older, and can't remember those movies so well anymore. In retrospect, maybe they weren't very good to begin with. But Generation X is tired of your sense of entitlement. Generation X also graduated during a recession. It had even shittier jobs, and actually had to pay for its own music. (At least, when music mattered most to it.) Generation X is used to being fucked over. It lost its meager savings in the dot-com bust. Then came George Bush, and 9/11, and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Generation X bore the brunt of all that. And then came the housing crisis. Generation X wasn't surprised. Generation X kind of expected it. Generation X is a journeyman. It didn't invent hip hop, or punk rock, or even electronica (it's pretty sure those dudes in Kraftwerk are boomers) but it perfected all of them, and made them its own. It didn't invent the Web, but it largely built the damn thing. Generation X gave you Google and Twitter and blogging; Run DMC and Radiohead and Nirvana and Notorious B.I.G. Not that it gets any credit. But that's okay. Generation X is used to being ignored, stuffed between two much larger, much more vocal, demographics. But whatever! Generation X is self-sufficient. It was a latchkey child. Its parents were too busy fulfilling their own personal ambitions to notice any of its trophies-which were admittedly few and far between because they were only awarded for victories, not participation. In fairness, Generation X could use a better spokesperson. Barack Obama is just a little too senior to count among its own, and it has debts older than Mark Zuckerberg. Generation X hasn't had a real voice since Kurt Cobain blew his brains out, Tupac was murdered, Jeff Mangum went crazy, David Foster Wallace hung himself, Jeff Buckley drowned, River Phoenix overdosed, Elliott Smith stabbed himself (twice) in the heart, Axl got fat. Generation X is beyond all that bullshit now. It quit smoking and doing coke a long time ago. It has blood pressure issues and is heavier than it would like to be. It might still take some ecstasy, if it knew where to get some. But probably not. Generation X has to be up really early tomorrow morning. Generation X is tired. It's a parent now, and there's always so damn much to do. Generation X wishes it had better health insurance and a deeper savings account. It wonders where its 30s went. It wonders if it still has time to catch up. Right now, Generation X just wants a beer and to be left alone. It just wants to sit here quietly and think for a minute. Can you just do that, okay? It knows that you are so very special and so very numerous, but can you just leave it alone? Just for a little bit? Just long enough to sneak one last fucking cigarette? No? Whatever. It's cool. Generation X is used to disappointments. Generation X knows you didn't even read the whole thing. It doesn't want or expect your reblogs; it picked the wrong platform. Generation X should have posted this to LiveJournal. Republished from Mat Honan's tumblr. =================================================================================================== The erotic functions for me in several ways, and the first is in providing the power which comes from sharing deeply any pursuit with another person. The sharing of joy, whether physical, emotional, psychic, or intellectual, forms a bridge between the sharers which can be the basis for understanding much of what is not shared between them, and lessens the threat of their difference. Another important way in which the erotic connection functions is the open and fearless underlining of my capacity for joy, in the way my body stretches to music and opens into response, harkening to its deepest rhythms so every level upon which I sense also opens to the erotically satisfying experience whether it is dancing, building a bookcase, writing a poem, or examining an idea. That self-connection shared is a measure of the joy which I know myself to be capable of feeling, a reminder of my capacity for feeling. And that deep and irreplaceable knowledge of my capacity for joy comes to demand from all of my life that it be lived within the knowledge that such satisfaction is possible, and does not have to be called marriage, nor god, nor an afterlife. This is one reason why the erotic is so feared, and so often relegated to the bedroom alone, when it is recognized at all. For once we begin to feel deeply all the aspects of our lives, we begin to demand from ourselves and from our life-pursuits that they feel in accordance with that joy which we know ourselves to be capable of. Our erotic knowledge empowers us, becomes a lens through which we scrutinize all aspects of our existence, forcing us to evaluate those aspects honestly in terms of their relative meaning within our lives. And this is a grave responsibility, projected from within each of us, not to settle for the convenient, the shoddy, the conventionally expected, nor the merely safe. During World War II, we bought sealed plastic packets of white, uncolored margarine, with a tiny, intense pellet of yellow coloring perched like a topaz just inside the clear skin of the bag. We would leave the margarine out for a while to soften, and then we would pinch the little pellet to break it inside the bag, releasing the rich yellowness into the soft pale mass of margarine. Then taking it carefully between our fingers, we would knead it gently back and forth, over and over, until the color had spread throughout the whole pound bag of margarine, thoroughly coloring it. I find the erotic such a kernel within myself. When released from its intense and constrained pellet, it flows through and colors my life with a kind of energy that heightens and sensitizes and strengthens all my experience. We have been raised to fear the yes within ourselves, our deepest cravings. But, once recognized, those which do not enhance our future lose their power and can be altered. The fear of our deepest cravings keeps them suspect and indiscriminately powerful, for to suppress any truth is to give it strength beyond endurance. The fear that we cannot grow beyond whatever distortions we may find within ourselves keeps us docile and loyal and obedient, externally defined, and leads us to accept many facets of our own oppression as women. When we live outside ourselves, and by that I mean on external directives only rather than from our internal knowledge and needs, when we live away from those erotic guides from within ourselves, then our lives are limited by external and alien forms, and we conform to the needs of a structure that is not based on human need, let alone an individual’s. But when we begin to live from within outward, in touch with the power of the erotic within ourselves, and allowing that power to inform and illuminate our actions upon the world around us, then we begin to be responsible to ourselves in the deepest sense. For as we begin to recognize our deepest feelings, we begin to give up, of necessity, being satisfied with suffering, and self-negation, and with the numbness which so often seems like the only alternative in our society. Our acts against oppression become integral with self, motivated and empowered from within. In touch with the erotic, I become less willing to accept powerlessness, or those other supplied states of being which are not native to me, such as resignation, despair, self-effacement, depression, self-denial. And yes, there is a hierarchy. There is a difference between painting a black fence and writing a poem, but only one of quantity. And there is, for me, no difference between writing a good poem and moving into sunlight against the body of a woman I love. This brings me to the last consideration of the erotic. To share the power of each other’s feelings is different from using another’s feelings as we would use a Kleenex. When we look the other way from our experience, erotic or otherwise, we use rather than share the feelings of those others who participate in the experience with us. And use without consent of the used is abuse. ” — An Excerpt from Audre Lorde’s “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” Sister Outsider ================================================================================================================ “ Ten Women I Have Been Warned Against Becoming: 1. The Girl Who Takes Up Too Much Space, always, her shoulders too wide in stairwells, her hips too big in doorways, her voice too loud in classes. This woman does not understand the art of crumbling, of curling herself tight like the spiral of a fern, soft, delicate, unwilling to reach out the ivy of her fingers to grasp onto what should rightfully be hers. This is a beast, an elephant, a moving mountain and she is capable of flattening you, she is capable of ruining you, she is capable of making you feel as small and insignificant in her life as she is supposed to be. You are this woman’s footnote to history, you are her side note in song lyrics, you are constantly interrupted by her with a witty joke you wish you thought of. I asked what the problem was with being a steamroller instead of a sunflower and I was laughed down. 2. The Beautiful One, the long hair or the slim waist or the pretty eyes or the lips like bowstrings. This woman looks good in everything because she’s confident in whatever you put her in. She’ll cut her hair short on you no matter how you like it, she’ll wear high heels and step on your opinions, she’ll look hot as hell no matter what size she is. See, the reason you can’t trust her is because women like this don’t need your permission, they’ll do as they please and get away with it. They’ll say no to you, over and over. Teach your daughters that beautiful means dangerous, teach them to distrust women who love themselves. Equate beautiful with vapid, equate pretty with stupid, take their power from them. Say they’re vain for their makeup, refuse to see them without it. These women are snakes, they are serpents. I said maybe the problem lies with you being unable to control yourself and was told to get off my pedestal. 3. A Bitch. Women are supposed to be ladies in the street but will tear skin under sheets. I’m told: Never raise your voice. Speak gently. Submit. Hold your opinion against your lips and when you admit to it, make sure it comes out as a butterfly wing suggestion. Don’t disagree. Don’t undermine someone else’s authority, regardless of whether or not they deserve your respect. Someone touches you, just move away from them. Don’t hit. Don’t talk back. Be like the ruins of Rome, only beautiful if you can’t hear your quiet death. 4. The Needy One. I have heard how others spit when they talk about how she gave you everything and you shoved it back down her throat until she choked on it, until she came back crawling and asked you what she did, until her palms and knees were scraped for want of just a little affection - never be this woman, I’m told, because she’s a joke and the joke is that she dared to have more emotion than you did. The truth is, I’m told, the one who cares less in a partnership is the one who wins. I didn’t know this was a competition. 5. The Cock Tease, certified stripper, how dare that girl look like that and not want me to sleep with her. Lust is always personified as a lady in red with a dress slit up her thigh. Lust is sinful because it’s power, it’s not asking for attention - it’s demanding it. I’m told she is the worst kind of woman, that looking good is supposed to be some kind of shame on her kin. I’m told not to leave the house in such a short skirt, not with a shirt so low, not with a lace back, not with high heels, not dressed like that. My lipstick can’t be too red, my hair can’t be too mussed, I can’t just “turn someone on like that and then leave them wanting.” I mentioned that instant gratification actually ruins our psyche and was told that being led on was “exhausting.” I said that there was a difference between purposefully tricking someone into liking you and just being attractive or friendly. I was told there’s also a difference between coffee and tea but both result in caffeine. I said, “I’ve been turned on in class by the girls I talk to but I didn’t expect anything from them,” and they said, “It’s different, you’re not a man,” but couldn’t explain where that difference was. 6. A Slut, obviously ruined by another person’s touch. It doesn’t matter how many people she’s actually been with, it’s all about the rumors she carries with her. Easy. Harlot. You’ll still try to get with her, you’ll still take her into your bed and kiss her and say things you don’t mean - but you’ll defame her name when you talk to your buddies. My father used to say “A slut is fine for the night, but the virgin is who you take home and marry.” Maybe he didn’t know he was teaching his daughter to hate her sexuality. Maybe he didn’t know that every time she’d be kissed, her whole system would shake until she felt ready to combust, shame and self-hatred shivering against her spine. Maybe he didn’t know she’d disconnect emotions and sex because he always told her, “Boys are different, they won’t care about you.” Nobody said to her that it was okay to experiment. See, the funny thing is, I’m a dancer so I know exactly where my center of gravity is. I know how hard I’ll fall in each direction. Yet out of fear of getting hurt, I won’t let a single person inside of my bed. 7. The Soulmate. Never love romance more than you love being cynical. Never show weakness, never like pink, never think maybe you might find someone nice and settle down with them. Someone will find you, I was told, And if you’re lucky, he’ll put up with you when you start getting old. Never be the woman who believes in happily ever after, never be dumb enough to think maybe someone could love you after all of your mistakes. It has nothing to do with whether or not a family is important to you and you’re in a good place where a relationship would make your life better - you’re not a princess. You don’t get married, you settle. 8. The Girl With Strength, who can outrun everyone and who is stronger than her boyfriend. “See the thing about boys,” says my daddy, “Is that you have to let them win.” I sat at home and read stories about Artemis and wanted to become the huntress, too. I wanted to howl at the moon, I wanted to slay the beasts that bested me, I wanted to rule my kingdom with bloody fists. But girls are never athletes, never supposed to be “built,” regardless of the fact civilizations were constructed on our spines and we made homes in war by the steel of our ribs. Never be strong. We are supposed to wilt. 9. The Lady CEO: because if you choose work over family, are you really a girl? How dare you fight your way to the top through every pair of eyes that bore through your blouse, through every meeting where you were hushed by the sound of someone else talking, through every time someone called you “sweetie,” how dare you yearn for something. Is your husband the stay-at-home one? I can’t imagine how that is going. He’s not a real man, after all. I don’t give it long before the divorce. How dare you decide you’re happy being single. Don’t you know you’re supposed to bear children. Where is your honor? Where is your wisdom? Who cares if you are the leader, the best suited for your position, the quickest-thinking, the one who makes the hardest clients come back again. Don’t you see? Across history, women have been terrible at success. They always lose their man in the end. (When I said, “I would rather be a famous author than a mediocre mother,” I was told, “No, don’t worry, you’ll be a fine mommy.”) 10. THE GIRL I AM: FIRECRACKER AND DON’T YOU FUCKING FORGET IT I’LL RIP YOU TO SHREDS AND I WON’T FUCKING REGRET IT I’M NOT YOUR PRETTY GIRL I’M NOT YOUR ANYTHING I’M PERFECT, MOTHERFUCKER, AND I’M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP WHAT I’M DOING. I DON’T WANT TO BE “LADYLIKE” THAT LITERALLY MEANS NOTHING I’M NOT GOING TO STOP STANDING UP AND DEMANDING WHAT’S COMING TO ME. I’M GONNA BE SOMEBODY. I’M GONNA MAKE THEM REMEMBER ME. I REFUSE TO BE OVERSHADOWED IN HISTORY. I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE TRYING TO CREATE BUT YOU MADE ME A DRAGON YOU PUT ME IN THE FIRE AND WHEN I STOPPED BURNING I LEARNED HOW TO GLOW DON’T THINK YOU CAN STOP ME YOU CAN’T TAME A TORNADO. ” — In respectful response to a poem tilted, “Ten men women have warned me against becoming." /// r.i.d (via inkskinned) ================================================================================ THE BOOK OF ONAN NOW there dwelt in the land of Canaan, the son of Judah, one Onan, and his brother was married to a wife named Tamar who was right comely;and one day Onan took an augur and drilled a hole in Tamar's door while that she was shedding her undergarments. And putting his eye to the hole, he gazed upon his sister-in-law's naked loins and... [All together now!]... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND another time, Onan was just sitting around the house doing nothing, although there was plenty to do, and he came upon some of Tamar's undergarments, the which she had laundered; and he fell to fondling them and caressing them, and pretty soon... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! YEA Onan was an idle man and there were many things in his father's house that gave him idle thoughts; as long fruits and vegetables, wineskins, and raw meat. These he would ponder and toy with, and more often than not... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! ONCE he even stuck his finger in a clam and felt around inside and... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! NOW Onan was wont to go forth unto that part of the city where filthy tablets were permitted to be sold. These he would purchase and gaze upon. And some were of women which committed abominations with men... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND others showed women that lay with women... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! OR with dogs... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! YET he loved best that tablet wherein another man spilled his seed upon the ground... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! NOW in that same part of the city where it was permitted to sell filthy tablets, were presented all manner of lewd shows. And one day Onan bought a ticket to a show wherein two women did wrestle together in a tub of mud... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND then came one who mocked God-fearing and advocated lewdness and used racy language... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND finally a band of musicians which were but scantily clad and played loud music with a beat that was the beat of his heart so that the blood rushed to his privates... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND after the show, did Onan go unto a party where he swore and cursed using explicit sexual terms which inflamed him so mightily that... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND he drank of strong drink and put smokables in his face, and drew smoke into his lungs which stimulated his glands and again... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND all the women in that place eschewed restraining undergarments so that their parts were visible especially their dugs, whereof the eager nipples strained against the tightness of their sweaters, and Onan... SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND as if that were not enough, he went home to bed and what did he do? HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! NOW soon the thought of any woman's body in its nakedness, whether of his mother or his sister or his cousin or his aunt, would cause Onan's member to rise up... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! NAUGHT was sacred to Onan. Once whilst assisting at Divine Service Onan beheld a fair maiden in the front row; and though she was dressed modestly withal yet could he discern that her dugs were huge. And he fell to thinking of their roundness and softness and right there in church... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! YEA Onan became a desperate case! If he went walking in the woods and beheld a tree whereof the limbs cleft and in the cleft was a knot-hole... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND if he went walking in the fields and beheld a ewe; and the ewe was white and wooly and her hindermost parts were towards him... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND if he went into the city and beheld a great pillar raised up to the glory of the Lord and the pillar was round and long and thick and smooth... HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND before long, any hole, or crack, or long thing or soft thing, yea any thing whatsoever would put him in the mind of fornication... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND first five, then ten, then a score of times each day would his hand seek his privateness... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND then his wife, who verily was an unfortunate woman, for that he put not his seed where it belonged, came unto him, crying "Onan, Onan, get a hold of yourself!" And he did... AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AND when the Lord saw that Onan heeded not the words of her wherein he should place his seed, the Lord determined to slay Onan, as an example to His people and to stop the terrible waste of seed. Yet Onan repented not; and even at the moment of his death, he grasped his manliness, and crying out with a great voice, said "I'm coming God! Oh God, I'm coming!" AND HE SPILLED HIS SEED UPON THE GROUND! AMEN HERE ENDETH THE BOOK OF ONAN ================================================================================ Video Reference Script 1/2 "Hey Babe, I just wanted you to know that I like you more than just a friend. Sometimes I wonder if you know whether I’m still alive. You don’t seem to notice me at all. At this point I don’t think you would care whether I’m dead or alive. I could have gone through a portal and you wouldn’t have noticed. I want you to be my master chief. I want to be your princess Zelda. I am not in another castle. I’m right here in front of you. Waiting. Waiting. I’ll be yours if you want. You don’t have to jump over any flaming barrels to get me. You don’t have to navigate your way through Silent Hill or engage in modern warfare to get me. Just ask me out on a date. Tell me that you like me too. I know I might not be the perfect girl. I don’t have a halo on my head. I don’t play in a rock band nor am I a guitar hero. I’m not a street fighter, I don’t even come in an orange box. But I have waited long enough. It’s now my call of duty to tell you that I want to be more than a friend to you. I know it’s a far cry for us to be together, but I wanted to give it a shot. I don’t want to waste a half life thinking about this anymore. Why are you so shy around me? I’m not some resident evil. I won’t break up with you when I see another guy I like. Don’t be afraid of a fallout. At the moment there is a dead space within my heart. I want you to fill that space. All my friends have boyfriends. I don’t want to be the only one left for dead. My friends tell me that I should be interested in lots of different guys. But I don’t want to catch ‘em all. I just want to catch you. Out of all the guys that I could have picked, I’ve pickachu" -------------------------------------------------------- Video Reference Script 2/2 "I think you’re a wonder boy and I want you to be my companion cube. If it works out we might even be able to buy a house together. We will make it our very own team fortress. Perhaps even have a kid eventually. The three of us will make one great triforce, I just know it. But I don’t want to jump the gun and scare you right now. Let’s just let our relationship enter the beta testing phase first ok? If you are interested in other girls, I’m prepared to fight for you. They say that love is a battlefield. I have my heart calibrated and my sights set on you. My light phaser is set on stunning and its target is you. I would make a wonderful girlfriend. I know which of your buttons to push, in a good way. Let me show you that the cake isn’t a lie. I think if we were to become a couple, that would really be golden Eye* really do think that. Please reply to this quickly since I am very anxious and have a need for speed in your answer. Don’t let there be a latency in taking our relationship to the next level. I’m tired of being a single player and want to enter a co-op campaign. I don’t want to spend anymore nights alone in the dark. Out of everything I have wanted, you are my final fantasy. So next time you see me, don’t turn 360 degrees and moonwalk away. Say you’ll be mine. All I want, is for you and I, to become wii" *goldenEye read as one word*