One Million Post

[Expletive]

(Being a fat fuck and allowing yourself to smell like a fat fuck is two different things. That's like saying a supermodel is so hot and attractive, you'd lick her asshole, when in actuality, she not only has aids, but her butt-hole is crusted with warts and pustules bursting with green pus, shit and yellowish milky blood.)


The globule of particles and smoke like smaller bits, surges towards the human gore which consisted of a bottom jaw and tongue, which belonged to some one who had been violent taken by the dark Nebula; which after ejecting the smaller cloud (this node was a part of itself that dealt with internal functions in a fixed area), went about it's business of finding mere bits (people) to facilitate complex functions in maintaining order within it's body, enabling it to evolve.
But the smaller cloud that was left in the Observation room, was no more complicated than a fish, with the only difference of it having the ability to evolve each time it came in contact with complex biological systems. But, the human remains the smaller cloud found, belonged to a pleasant member of Destiny's crew, who lost the top half of their head first, and then the rest of the body leaving the bottom of the face (the lower jaw and tongue).
And this was done for two reasons, firstly, the original nebula beast wanting to save the brain since the Nebula beast knew that the top of the mere bits skulls contained the electrical complexity which necessitates decision making, and this it did before being bothered with the other components of the mere bits which wasn't as complex and capable of doing complicated task; and secondly; it wanted to distract the part of itself which had become viral, which it ejected and left on the Observation deck, hoping it would use up it's remaining energy and pop out of existence or simply lose coherence, but in case it didn't lose coherence, and turned out to be complex enough to find it's way back to the nexus of the Nebula beast, the original entity used a distraction.
Interestingly, this distraction was the second part of an event which occurred before on thousands of alien vessels over the eons the Nebula beast existed. But, the event never had survivors who could reflect upon what they'd seen, until now: Though from the view point of this particular survivor, it was the most horrible and frightening thing they'd ever beheld, at least, it was up to that point, since Jessica and Paul suffered horrors far worst than what they'd seen behind the subspace barrier Destiny generated to protect them. And yet, a truer observer would have to be the one that felt it; the changing in the twinkling of an eye of their physicality; from the physical to the substrata virtual.
The actual event (the EVENT in the sense of being a participant in one's cessation as a human being, rather than being an observer of the one being taken) or the taking of the unfortunate owner of the lower jaw and tongue, occurred within a blink of an eye, thus, the person who was taken, was dismantled on the molecular level, and stored before they even registered the attack.
The dismantling, or ripping away of the brain was almost surgical; the Nebula beast particles surged into the person's nose and top half of her face (this unfortunate person was formerly Rebeca Gleason a civilian and computer genius. She'd worked closely with Eli on developing a data reservoir within the ocean that is Destiny's mainframe; in the hope they'd be able to store data which they had brought with them from earth. Paul Howard knew here well since she was also a smut peddler.), and Rebeca Gleason knew no more the joys of humanity, but instead existed as a value within an actual transitional subset of space time; delegating routines and task for an incredibly old entity, that may or may not have been an actual node in an even more complex entity.


(More to Come, SAVE SGU YOUS GLEE FAGS!)

[Expletive]

(The redo or re-visit is done; no more 'complexities'. Writing about complexities is too hard when all you're thinking about is 'fuck-all'--- Fuck it, I'm trying to get better at this tits and ass fiction, so I'll write more capricious bullshit. This bit of fluff is brought to yous Glee fags by erasers; be sure to shove one in your pee hole if you watch glee, yous fags!)

The darkness of the creature grew steadily as it fell upon the human gore intentionally left for it, by it's fore bearer---knew it not of abandonment only survival; to feed or to evolve. But in place of loneliness, it sensed a purpose it was oblivious to properly exasperate about. But as it's actions seemingly grew into more complex decisions (from scavenging scraps to attacking victims, to negating the gravitational pull to expedite feeding), it would unwittingly fall into a state of sensory that has the propensity, of leading humanity hand and foot, but usually genitalia first, into the abyss.

(If you look at all this bullshit retrospectively, our dicks and cunts leads us down dark paths we had no intentions of being involved in. Either that's a testament of the power of P, or we're just fucking stupid. Imagine a powerful eating machine which could evolve into a god, being exposed to the element of P and suddenly it's got shit for brains and all it can do is think of extending the sensation it mimicked, which it liked and now wants to feel again and again.
(Now in this second bit, we return to the point the cloud thingy is eating out all the fungal cells it finds In Jessica's sexual organ, and of course I wrote that bit in to fuck with you people. Technically it's for two reasons, the former was reason one, and the other reason I did that is in a misguided attempt to try and write something salacious, to get the ladies damp in the hope that my ugliness and expansive girth, not to mention my five inch penis; would be ignored.
(So Jessica is getting her business dealt with, and she's feeling the itchy, hot, cold, prickly, throbbing, twitchy sensations and all in between, that comes with having a static cloud sucking it's way into your vagina. So naturally she's at first repulsed, but then her mind in trying to salvage what's left of her psyche before she goes 'fuck-all' protects her in the only way it can, thus, this mental switch enables Jessica to project a happy place or to simply become horny. Remember that Laurence Fishbourne masterpiece ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13? Well, in one scene, the secretary tells Law Burn's character that even though she's close to death, she's so very horny. And of course Law Burn's character is this know it all kingpin type who is closer to Lex Luther from Smallville post season 6, than Freeway Ricky Ross, tells her that death and sex are at times interchangeable, and that she isn't the only one who feels horny, then they proceed to share particulates.
( So the sensations which wasn't all that horrible to begin with, and technically wasn't all that demeaning seeing as how the creature wasn't out to rape her, but to devour her for energy---these sensations made her have an orgasm. In Jessica's mind, having to deal with the revulsion of her situation coupled with the feeling of impending doom, as the dark cloud proceeded to lift her in the air to have it's way with her, only made Jessica rely more heavily on her natural mental switches, which she relied upon whenever something terrible happened on Destiny. In this case, instead of being horny, or passing out and having a wet dream, Jessica's mind kept her conscious, allowing her a waking dream: as the creature is inside her vagina eating away the cause of her stinky pussy, Jessica's mind curiously imagined it was her husband between her legs. But being near mad from her sensations, and seeing the creature flowing in and out of the big black man Paul Howard's gut cavity, made her feel as if, this was Paul Howard's doing and not so much the creature since, the dark cloud beast only seemed interested in devouring people, and not so much causing orgasms. So allowing herself this bit of fiction, she came like she'd never cummed before, and then she came again and again; each time the creature laps up her cum juices it inadvertently restores her bodily functions responsible for facilitating the orgasms. The beast body naturally radiates the solution to repair and fix human tissue and biological components, thus, Jessica is caught in a cycle of cumming, then surpassing the need for refractory and cumming again. The creature who is still weakened regardless of the biological bits it's taken, then relies on the other aspect of itself, and tries to mimic a more complex biological system to survive. And thus, it mimics the electrical sensations Jessica experiences when an orgasm occurs; the sensation hits her brain, and her brain sends a signal back to her vagina to react with the sensation, and the new signal combines with new sensations perpetrated by the shadowy static cloud deep within her vaginal cavity, shoots back to the brain with even stronger sensations which causes the brain to release even more endorphins. The Endorphins alters the frequency of the signal and the brain sends this signal back to the affected area---once the cloud mimics this, it has an orgasm, and doesn't understand how or why, only that as long as it does this to the body it's in, the body wold produce the signal and the dark cloud would feel the new sensation.
(Of Course Robert Cooper, Joseph Mallozzi and the other producers of Stargate Universe would never do anything like this, but I feel they could have done something similar by just being suggestive and not showing too much, More to come.)

[Tablefor5]

What the hell is this shit?

[Expletive]

( One of life's miracles is when feces becomes rock hard and is able to survive millennia; even though technically, it's still a piece of shit.)

Destiny's mainframe avatar looked on as Jessica Lyman appeared to have been 'accosted' by a piece of the nebula cloud creature. Even with Dr. Rush downloaded into it's data-banks facilitating all sorts of probable and comparative outcomes and strategies, Destiny was still at a lost how to proceed.

Jessica's Lyman's legs were grasped apart, as the cloud creature was thoroughly immersed into her vaginal, and anal cavities. Destiny's image of Rush which could be seen only by the two victims before him, had a look of bewilderment on his face; Was Jessica being devoured, raped or something else indescribable? Even more astonishing to the Computer, was the way Jessica looked; her head drawn back in ecstasy; her mouth ajar, with drool running down the corners of her mouth landing on the floor, her pale face flush red, and her eyes rolled into her skull. Her breath coming out through her opened mouth in quick successions, with no apparent blood, spittle or anything else which which would accompany a person being eaten from the inside out. Not even a grimace of discomfort or pain, but instead, Rush's image witnessed ecstasy. The mainframe wanted to use it's scanning and processing abilities to peer deeper into the subconscious mind of the two before him (it was presently in the shallow part of their minds, and touched only their perceptive functions; enabling them to see and hear It), but due to a near overload of other procedures, the computer could only reserve a small portion of it's processing power for the Rush avatar and it's dealings with Paul Howard and Jessica Lyman, with the rest of It's logic and computational methods being used for advising other key crew members, and placing subspace shields through out it's Ship body to curb the Nebula beast harvesting.

"Doctor?" It was Paul Howard, his eyes dazed, as if he was steps away from death or unconsciousness---- by the mere fact that he was alive astonished the Mainframe since, by all accounts, such a grave invasive attack should have killed him.
"Doctor, I'm changing, it's changing, I understand now, please," Paul paused, closing his eyes for a moment as if drawing power from some unseen force, "Everything will be finished soon, use your full computing power and focus on slowing down the rest of the black smoke. When we're done here, it'll come back for us." Rush's image couldn't compute what it was hearing from Paul.
"You're in shock," said Destiny's avatar. It tried to mimic the dismissive vocal tone it computed the original Rush would have done. Paul, still looking sleepy continues, the grimace of pain on his face lessening.
"This thing, has roots in subspace, and subspace is the realm where bubbles of being exist, and within these bubbles, are the space fields of the ascended plains." The mainframe using Rush's image, still held a look of puzzlement.
"What are you?" Rebutted the avatar, as it accessed the memories of Dr Rush and Dr Franklin which enabled it to fully comprehend that something beyond it's ability to properly attend was happening: Connections were being made in it's data-banks, connections that enabled it to understand that it was following a plan designated by some one else---some one not involved in it's original programming. Some one with the ability to reprogram a small part of it's data-banks to protect Jessica Lyman and Paul Howard. And, as Destiny thoroughly examined it's actions, it deduced that from the arrival of the milky way visitors, it started oscillating a frequency, which was similar to the way in which it peered into the minds of it's human occupants. The oscillating emission was able to hold up to 30% of it's computing resources, from then to now, something it would never have done otherwise. As it scanned through Kino records made specifically by Paul Howard, it discovered Paul who was a self professed sufferer of bipolar like symptoms, had spoken of how coming to Destiny had made him a new man. It also found it strange how it started to favor Paul over Rush (who was a devote follower of Destiny's mission even before coming on board the vessel) as a person who was not expendable. The oscillation was meant for Paul Howard, and even now, it's presence on the Observation deck was meant for Paul and Jessica.
"I think, I'm a god." Said Paul Howard with such force and gusto, that were the avatar a human being, it might have become startled. But, as Destiny sensed/heard the words from Paul Howard; 'I think, I'm a god,' it couldn't compute beyond his former words; 'when we're done here, it'll come back for us. Destiny started to understand the concept of curiosity, and hated not being able to fully understand the imperatives of the spoken word.
"Speak Plainly Paul Howard! I don't have the time or ability to process incoherence!" Destiny was becoming impatient, another human trait it hadn't before now, or didn't fully understand until faced with a problem that had no immediate or probable solution. It deduced that perhaps absorbing Rush and allowing him to run unimpeded in it's virtual memory was causing unforeseen side effects; perhaps Rush's personality had become viral in it's data-systems.
Paul Howard remained silent for a time, and as the seconds became moments, Destiny feared that Paul was either dying or dead. It expanded it's observation matrix to better grasp Paul's condition, so much so, that warning subroutines warned it of potentially crashing it's present 'Protect Paul Howard and Jessica Lyman program', since it was using almost the full capacity of it's functional resources designated for this specific task. Once in heightened observation mode, it was able to see the innards of all biological entities as shades of light and colorful radiance. As it approached Paul, it noted he appeared to be alive but, it was drawn first to Jessica; It was taken aback by the electrical firestorm that brewed within Jessica Lyman's body; her skin was sweating profusely, even with It's power off and the Observation Deck near freezing, Jessica was damp with perspiration. But as it peered closer, it noticed a dark reddish radiance emitting from Jessica's head: It looked as if her brain's processing power appeared to be approaching 15% capacity, already surpassing the genius level 13% capacity, seen only in the rarest of humanity; with Rush, and Eli approaching such usage. But according to Destiny's files it had accessed on Jessica Lyman, she wasn't even remotely talented in any area, and her brain full capacity surged no higher than ship wide average of 8%. But now, something about this Nebula creature had pushed her to exceed what was normally possible even in the smartest of the crew. A cry of joy escaped Jessica's opened mouth. 'No doubt about it,' computed Destiny, 'Jessica is experiencing some form of coitus.' Though It remained oblivious as to how or why.

Orgasm after orgasm flooded Jessica's brain with dopamine molecules, so much so that, it started to change the very chemistry of her brain. And due to her exposure to the smoke creatures naturally occurring regenerative radiance, she was suffering no ill effects. Destiny witnessed that even the creatures tendrils which held her high, and had originally left several burn marks on Jessica's exposed flesh, was no longer burning her, but instead was doing just the opposite as, all the burn marks was being repaired at an incredible rate. Paul's aura changed from a human yellowish glow, to an incredible blue, to an intense purple. Destiny noted, that the smoke creature also exuded a dark purple, only, it's intensity was lessening, as if, it was either absorbing Paul, or was matching the electrum signature Howard radiated.

(This bit was fun to write, even though it's a piece of shit---more to come. Watch SGU yous Glee Fags!)

[Expletive]

( It's difficult to give a fuck when you feel despondent. Yesterday was a busy day for me, not to mention I felt like snark shit pus fuck. )
( Though, for me, writing coherently is almost always an insurmountable task, especially due to my idiosyncratic methodologies which continuously oscillates from fuck-all to what the fuck.
( I truly have no mental means of continuing anything worthwhile, especially tonight when watching scat porn is preferable.
( But I think I can manage, after all, I daily pretend to be a regular person, even if my best impression of the regular joe is the despondent indifferent incredulous type.
(Paul Howard and the thing in his gut get's some talky time, while Jessica Layman keeps having orgasms and start dreaming all sorts of odd imagery; thanks to her growing sexual appetite that has surpassed the extreme and marquis de'sade tasteful.)

Jessica Layman was home again on her bed naked having 69 sex, with the only difference being, instead of Jessica's face in the bronze mirror that hanged above their bed, Jessica saw her daughters face. But only her daughter's face, since the rest of the body in the reflection was hers, and she didn't see her husband's dick in the reflection, only the act of her daughter's mouth being opened, seemingly foundling on something. Other aspects though that were not unique or different was her husband's dick in her mouth, since they always had 69 sex, and her husband would usually have his fingers and a vibrator, going in and out of her vagina; and almost always Greg would be breathing through his mouth; gasping at times as if he was suffocating. But not this time; this time her husband's mouth, a sucking tentacle, is buried deep inside her vagina sucking up all the green sticky sugary goodness that had made Jessica's vagina smell always pleasant and radiant. The sucking noise near a roar as all the fungal growths and cheesy like bits of yellow flowed through the nozzle that was her husband Greg's mouth, into an apparent bottomless pit inside his body that must be his stomach or even perhaps a pool, since the sucking was constant and the gushing of thick soupy green plentiful. Even as the ends of Greg's tentacled mouth buried deep inside her vaginal cavity, nibbled at the walls of her chasm to pull free the darker green harder bits of fungal sweetness that held fast, and sucked with suction forces that exceeded thousands of PSI, Greg still managed to allow some of it to waste; bits of it oozing from the sides of his tentacled sucking mouth, pooling near Jessica Layman's rectal opening. Inexplicably, Paul Howard walks by with a tentacled mouth of his own, which he buries deep into her rectum to capture not only the green gooey sugar that escaped her vaginal canal, but to suck away all matter, liquids, and gasses from her rectal storehouse. Jessica approached ecstasy and thought she would burst with joy and pleasure. Her mouth chewed and sucked hard awaiting another gift that would make this moment even more appealing and enjoyable. The taste of Greg's dick in her mouth, reminded her of lavender flowers, and blue berry moon beams. A sexually electrical discharge in her mouth announces the succulent goodness of lunar pulses that pushes Jessica even further near the point of no return; the trembling woman gulping down as quickly as she could as Greg's dick juice pours into her mouth almost immediately making her feel strong and peaceful.
The bedroom door opens, her daughter Linda Layman enters, but just as Jessica becomes irritated at her daughter's intrusion since Linda knew better, the coital woman became distracted by what was behind Linda. There, in the shade of the hallway stood a shadowy hulking figure that loomed over Linda. Jessica immediately alarmed at the penis that was just behind her daughter's head, but as she notices the shape, her worry turns to pleasant surprise. The figure pushes pass the child and stands admiringly over the conflagration, Jessica couldn't believe what she was seeing; it was another Paul Howard. This Paul Howard was naked; his protruding gut several inches over his waist, his dick, no bigger than five inches was erect and thick, and slightly curved like the letter 'C'. Jessica pulled her mouth from Greg's dick and offered some to him.
"Try some, it's very good." This Paul Howard seemed Reluctant at first, but after a time, he knelt and did as she said, and upon him doing so, a rush of orgasmic flurry passed through Jessica making her almost pass out in her dream. Then another flurry attacked, then another, then another; all around them, the house shook and articles fell from high places.

On a large plateau with an oceanic expanse above the landscape, stood a lone STARGATE and two humans standing before it; both of them are Paul Howard. The first Paul Howard is wearing sneakers, a t-shirt, and jeans; and in these jeans he stands with his K legs looking admiringly at the other Paul Howard who is covered in a black robe with smoke emanating from his body. The one in shadows and smoke wore glasses, and the first Howard did not, but both of them are the same height and built. The one of smoke spoke first, his voice with an echo that sounded non-ethereal.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" The first, looks at his duplicate from head to toe, then towards the STARGATE. The other Howard responds in the Bahamian vernacular; though calm and measured.
"I'm the guy about to pass the GATE'S event horizon." he said
"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN, AND WHY ARE YOU WEARING MY FACE---OI, MY BEY!" Snapped Smokey Howard incredulously even as he reluctantly follows the other into the STARGATE. The whirlpool stretches around them into bright light that cascades into a city street, and dark cloudy purple skies. In the distance, a solitary house amidst emptiness and roads heading into the far distance. Both Paul Howards look at their surroundings. The smokey Howard has an irritated look on his face.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PLACE?" berates Smokey.
"This is Jessica's hidden place," said Paul Howard. And Smokey Howard raises his eyebrows and forehead slightly, his eyes widening as if he gets it, but in reality he's being facetious.
"Is it now, fuck me because I thought it was her public place, goes to show what the fuck do I know---" his voice sounded as normal as the the first Paul Howard's voice, but then; "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU, WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE, HOW THE FUCK DID WE GET HERE AND HOW IS THIS SHIT JESSICA'S FUCKING HIDDEN PLACE?" As Smokey let loose his feelings on his predicament, the ground began to shake, and the sky grew darker. Smokey taken aback shares his bewilderment. "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?" But the other Paul Howard is making his way towards the entrance of the house. Smokey sucks his teeth, looks up at the turbulent darkening sky, and tepidly follows his doppelganger.

Jessica in coitus' resolution screams in delight as another flurry passes through her form and into the surrounding space; causing space time ripples to pass through out the house. She grabs her husbands large dick from her dream co deviant Howard, and plunges it into her mouth; as the sweet lavender blue berry moon beam brew pours into her mouth, she screams again as another flurry passes through her body. Her dream deviant Howard rips It out of her hand and puts it into his mouth sucking forcefully, Greg Layman's tentacled hosed mouth sputters as it sucks the thick green soupy goodness from Jessica's Vaginal canal, orgasms passes through Greg's body and by extension Jessica's who almost immediately twitches in convulsions trembling the space time around the bed. Jessica's co deviant Howard, uses his teeth and nibbles the gland of the sputtering dick, causing Greg/Jessica Layman another orgasm; Greg's hosed mouth pulls away from Jessica's vagina and hoses the room with the thick green liquid, a bit of it splashes into Smokey Howard's mouth as he barges into the room before T-shirt and Jeans wearing Howard would have. Smokey is not amused.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? FUCK ME IT'S IN MY MOUTH, O MY god IT'S IN MY FUCKING MOUTH! THIS IS SOME NASTY FUCKING SHIT!" T-shirt and Jeans Howard cautiously enters the room and glances at all the goings on, and makes his way into the far corner where none of Jessica's vaginal yeast soup has touched. Smokey spits out yellowish cheesy bits and green slime, and continuous to spit. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK A MUDDA FUCKING DUCK!" Jessica oblivious to Smokey and the other Howard, flurries again, the space time ripples emanates from Jessica Layman and passes through Smokey Howard momentarily reducing him to a cloud of black smoke. The other Howard in the far corner raises his hand and blocks the oncoming ripples. Smokey sees him do this, and is confused and terrified. "WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED MAN? WHATS GOING ON?" Though noticeably terrified, Smokey's fear becomes revulsion when he sees the deviant Howard on the bed near Jessica's head with another man's dick in his mouth, and the other Paul Howard with a long mouth that resembles a hose lurched between Jessica's legs sucking shit and green bile looking, and sour milk smelling bits from her ass.
"O FUCK ME I'M GETTING THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Exasperates Smokey Howard, but spinning about, he sees no door to exit out of. "O SWEET MERCY NO, LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT, I'M GOING TO DIE IN HERE, DIS ROOM SMELL BAD BEY, DIS ROOM SMELL NASTY MAN, FUCKING LEMME OUT BEY!" He sees the other Howard in the corner, relaxed and looking at him thoughtfully. "WHAT THE FUCK YOU LOOKING AT BEY, YOU TRAP IN HERE TOO." The other Howard makes his way around the bed, and lightly taps Linda on the head, Linda looks up at the Howard passing her and nods.
"If you want out, you have to participate brother." Smokey looks at him in disbelief, his eyes welling up with tears, and then, suddenly, he jumps onto the bed, and starts to pound on the deviant Howard who is sucking on the dick of Jessica's husband. The dick sucking Howard wails in pain and irritation, and Jessica still in coital resolution, raises her hand and immediately, Smokey Howard flies into the wall, the wall oozes around him holding him fast, pulling him towards the floor, but stopping about two feet from the ground. The other Howard from just behind Jessica's daughter continues.
"Jessica is being molested by the shadow beast in the real world, and her mind made this fantasy to deal with that fact. As luck would have it, the shadow beast sits on two planes; the ascended plane holds the beast roots, and it's body lives in the realm of the real. Jessica Layman and Paul Howard has been exposed to radiation that should only exist on the plane of ascended beings. This radiation has a profound affect on flesh, particularly, sentient flesh. The beast is feeding on the biological waste and growths from Jessica's body; namely her bottom and vagina. And Jessica's brain is translating this event into something Jessica could deal with, without allowing her to go mad. Her brain is receiving pulses from the reverberating frequency of the beast biometric pulses, which has it's roots in the uber frequencies that exist only on the ascended plane.
"The shadow beast benefits because it feeds off of the physical and electrical biometrics Jessica's body is releasing; namely her biological waste which it apparently uses for repair and upgrading itself, and it duplicates complex biological biochemical properties it is exposed to; namely, Jessica's orgasms. The reverberating effect of it's perpetual replication of Jessica's biometric signature is affecting it's body's ability to properly feed on any other victims, thus, it's particulates that deals with feeding and upgrading, has now all been changed to upgrading; thus, the person whose body it was deeply involved with, a person who it was feeding upon, has also began to change. Thus it has unwittingly began to alter the phase variance of the victim that it was devouring. Paul Howard, it's victim is experiencing a change of his molecular cohesion; altering the charge of particles and the electromagnetic boding between smaller bits in Howard's body. Essentially, Howard is upgrading." Smokey Howard looks as if he understands.
"SO THE SMOKE CREATURE IS UPGRADING ME?" ask Smokey Howard.
"Yes," says T-shirt Jeans wearing Paul Howard, "It's upgrading Paul Howard, but like a fan plugged into an electrical outlet, the fan, or the monster, is experiencing a different state, namely, Paul Howard's consciousness, which it is unwittingly using to resemble a life form." explains T-shirt Howard.
"I SEE, SO SMOKEY BECAUSE HE WAS 'PLUGGED' INTO PAUL DEVOURING HIM PHYSICALLY, HAS NO BEGAN TO DEVOUR OR REPLICATE PAUL HOWARD'S PSYCHE, SO AS LONG AS HE'S PLUGGED INTO PAUL, HE THINKS AND FEELS LIKE THE REAL PAUL---SO YOU'RE SMOKEY THEN?" Looking at him, the real Paul Howard smiles and nods.
"That's right, you're Paul Howard and I'm smokey." lies Paul Howard. "And I'm here to help you ascend." Smokey Howard smiles at the last part, as Jessica Layman cries out in another orgasm shaking the dream world.

(porn is evil and lessens us as people, but fuck me it's addictive, later Stargate Universe fans, and if you're not, then go watch glee faggots!)

[Expletive]

(Keith Olberman got fired, and I didn't know because I was too busy not giving a fuck. I didn't agree with most of the things he said, but he could make sense now and again. So last night, I turn my telly on MSNBC and I see Last Call---where the fuck is Keith? Found out sadly that Dan Abrams is a gutless girly man. After watching Don Imus' take on Rachel Madcow being a gutless sphincter, I giggled incredulously; because I didn't know Don Imus was on Fox News. Seems as if I"ll be watching more Fox News than not (probably ten minutes instead of the usual five minutes). I've missed Imus in the morning and Morning Joe isn't nearly as satisfying; nappy headed dykes aside.)
(I've found a lovely website that boldly promotes poop in porn. Scenes where guys that tap the asses of dames gets a shitty reward; which is the most honest thing I've seen on the net in a long time. Let's be real folks, if you're about to tap a woman's ass, shit will come out. Sure professionally, they ask the dames to douche out their ass cavity and hope they haven't had anything greasy the day before the shoot, and not have eaten anything after 5PM the previous day. Regardless of all their planning though, more often than not, shit will come out. But, nothing's perfect and shitty things do happen, that's why I like movies where they don't give a shit about the shit in anal scenes, and consider the poop to be the deus ex machina that makes the entire event even more awesome. I've seen porn bloopers where guys tap the asses of girls and get mad at the girl for getting shit on their dick, or for a bit of ass juice to pour out and funk up the room. In one outtake, the guy runs to the sink and vomits; what a fucking fag, what a maroon, what a nincompoop; HEY ASSHOLE, THAT AIN'T SHIT THAT'S A TROPHY OF YOUR AWESOMENESS OF HAVING FUCKED A GIRL IN THE ASS, BECAUSE ONLY FAGGOTS VOMIT AFTER GETTING A SHITTY REWARD DURING ANAL SEX!)

The 'Cloud Nebula of death like Purgatory' realizes that some unseen force is hampering its movements through the vessel. These invisible walls were virtually everywhere through out Destiny's hallways and air ducts, save for the places the smoke beast already visited. The Black Cloud Nebula Demon could in most cases force it's way through any barrier, but doing so would require a lot of power, and at the moment, it hadn't fed on any thing resembling power to sustain such a barrage. Curiously it thought of Sharks, and how they would wait until their prey was dead or near death, and found it interesting that it was capable of a similar act; the Nebula Cloud of Doom, decided it would play the waiting game, since, this wasn't the first time a moving object tried to subvert it's actions, and like all others, this vessel would eventually fail since the Nebula Beast had time on it's side. As it churned it's particulates and subsets, it tested the full efficiency of each node which dealt with a designated area of it's massive form. The mere bits it assimilated had began to help in designating and processing it's control of every aspect of it's body, a fact, that suddenly made the Nebula beast decide to leave the ship, since, the mere bits it recently acquired, were like nothing it had ever experienced, and just having them boxed in it's subspace virtual values, had enabled an uber proficiency in it's varied arrayed responsibilities, so much so that it exceeded previous parameters. It discovered that it's intellectual progression matrix was gradually growing in complexity: for the first time, the Ancient Shadow started feeling, and extrapolating thought processes. Among such emotions, the Nebula Beast started to feel anxious, and unsure of it's newly formed draden personifications: It was quickly becoming self involved, and loathed the other bit of fluff it had left behind; uncharacteristically, the Nebula Beast introspective persona inched closer to narcissism, than it's former instinctive inquisitive self---it even began to feel superior to the lesser it left behind. Loathing turned to abstract fear of what the other was doing, and what it was planning for it.
Just then in the distance it noticed a solitary person firing a crude weapon at it; a device that produced a marvelous stream of energy, which immediately fed the nebula beast, making the front bits of it giddy with pleasure, a near sensory overload of satisfaction. Which was unusual since previously, it only felt the sensation of a boundless desire to now and again pursuit much needed sustenance, and upon attaining it's desire of gaining a food source, it would feel satisfied. But it became flooded with a chemical phantom resonance of a substance it deduced was dopamine, but, it had no means of producing such chemicals or out-rightly feeling it's effects, but curiously, it was feeling the reward dopamine would usually give.
It began to 'remember' the person before it, and within it's stored subspace banks, the name of GREER was insinuated. Confusion began; it wanted the food source, and elements of it's particulates wanted to absorb Greer to add to it's sophisticated calculation matrix, but also, another part of it desired Greer sexually. It didn't understand the concept of sex, or desire beyond sustenance and assimilation, but in it's stored banks, a complex routine had began to give suggestions, which unnerved the creature that only dealt with mere bits through the eons that did their assigned task and remained docile otherwise. But this particular Mere Bit was different; it even exceeded the abilities of the other recent mere bits the Nebula Beast had taken.
"What the fuck are you?" said Greer, and the Nebula beast sensed terror and resolve emanating from the black master Sargent. It wanted to form words; for the first time in it's life, it felt the need to respond---or was it, the *Mere Bit who was quickly overriding it's basic functions of 'feed and assimilate', that wanted to respond. Was it this creature, wondered the Shadow cloud. Was it this rarest of assimilated components; the oddest of mere bits, this Rebeca Gleason that was confusing it's million year old instinctive self?
"O my Lord what is this thing before me?" says Greer disbelief and fear. The Nebula Beast sensed the aura of defeat radiating from the Master Sargent, and it started to feel compassion for the man. Compassion? From deep within the dense darkness comes a response, a voice, as clear as Greer's voice and undoubtedly feminine.
"It's me Rebeca Gleason, Sargent Greer, and I promise you, no harm will come to you or anyone else on board Destiny." The Nebula beast instinctively tried to disengage the affected Node which had already overridden many of it's functions, but was unable to. It had lost control over all it's integrated mere bit networks. And for the first time in it's existence, the Smoke Nebula Beast became terrified.


*Mere Bit: A sentient being; usually stored in a subspace box; once boxed, the Shadow Cloud Beast can assign these boxed sentient creatures task, which they can do individually or in an array.

[Expletive]

( I'm a fucking geek maroon---fuck, I really am. "A Mere bit" Where the fuck did that come from? I'll tell your from where: too much science fiction. But here of late, science fiction like mainstream porn, has let me down; due to it's repetitive bullshit. That's why I like my porn amateur---though technically I'm getting bored of porn, and want an actual cunny bleed---but that's another discussion for another time. But what we need is, amateur science fiction. So I'm writing a science fiction masterpiece, and I've decided to do it Cloverfield, as opposed to big production budget. Keep it cheap and simple, and use a camcorder; real gonzo porn style. Though I'll have to change the story so it'll work, but you know what, I think I'm finally becoming awesome. Now, had I a ten inch dick, instead of a five inch one, I'd be a true demagogue.)


Nicholas Rush formerly of Glasgow Scotland, Planet Earth and the ancient science vessel launched millions of years before; Destiny, stands at the core of Destiny's computer, inside a virtual maelstrom humans were never meant to know of less experience personally. Dr Rush wanted to say to himself that he could "see" the maelstrom of Destiny's computer data-banks doing quadrillion of computations every nano cycle, but, he doubted it was actually 'seeing' since what he saw before him, and what he felt physically, wasn't necessarily one in the same, if he were to compare it to what is experienced in the physical universe. And though Rush was usually moody, and a known sufferer of a form of bipolar symptoms (which got worse after his wife died), contrary to what he usually experienced, Rush felt alive, and filled with potential, in a way he'd never experienced before. And now in an impossible situation, within a god like machine, realizing that he was experiencing a miracle, Rush gained that some how his biological functions had fused with, or had literally become a form of data processing, enabling the human to be able to see and experience every thing in real time; with actual form, height depth and space, as if it were happening on the outside in the spaces of the real. The actual Land Lord, Destiiny's AI, the operating system in it's entirety, the means the ancients put in place to control Destiny's functions and make complicated decisions, and course corrections if need be, is an operating system, or compared to one in name only, since from what can be seen: The underlay of actual evens and odds, ons and offs of the computer;
is composed of bits of energy that cycled through the computational nexus every trillionth of a second, sharing information with other aspects of itself, and relaying the near impossibly dense information, via subspace burst, to its core construct, that holds the memory of Destiny's data and information, Altering it when necessary or leaving it as is. The AI unwittingly or willingly, Was now sharing it's work, processes and all of its information with Dr. Nicholas Rush. Though the conscious Rush who stood in a virtual room, a hundred by hundred feet with a clear glass ceiling twenty feet high, with walls and ground that was as clear as the ceiling, which, due to being clear, enabled virtual Rush to see billions of boxes seemingly like his, floating in the inner space of this virtual universe, and from his vantage point, these boxes exist symmetrical several miles away in every direction, and each of these boxes is surrounded by billions of other boxes even further still, like stars in the night sky---all of them equally as clear, but too far away to see inside of, which helped Rush to understand that more than likely, the actual man that he believed he was who had been teleported from the spaces of the actual, was actually stored in Destiny's memory-banks and is still there. THUS, virtual Rush deduced that Destiny was also able to access stored Rush's memories and his personality in a near infinite number of procedures. So much so, that, Rush knew that at this very moment copies of Nicolas Rush existed in many other virtual simulations and was busy coming up with ideas for the many problems that Destiny couldn't handle alone.

Dr. Rush though, wondered how he was able to send out streams of request, and to be able to be fed immediately quadrillions of bits of information on Destiny's computing core process subroutines. And for his virtual awareness to be able to translate that information into a visual context that his consciousness would be able to comprehend. Such a thing was beyond his limited capacity, which made him conclude that it must to have been a prerequisite constructed into Destiny's mainframe by the ancients millions of years ago. Perhaps, they postulated that if any of them came into injury or anything else derogatory, then it would be preferable to exist as streams of information than to cease to exist all together.

Rush also realizes that as it is in a computer's architecture, the actual bits that makes Rush who and what he is, in effect his very person, is locked away safely within the core of the device or construct, regardless if the construct itself is tangible or intangible, actual or virtual; and all that has been done is the random access memory has copied him and has placed it in dynamic mode, where as the rest of him ---the real stored Rush---is in wait or standby storage, somewhere within Destiny's actual storage. Nicholas Rush understands how Destiny uses people to add to it's overall computing power, and he collects that his understanding of how things work was also designed into Destiny's virtual parameters. Knowledge once added to the perpetual dynamic RANDOM ACCESS MEMORY module, is shared with any program or complexity that calls for it. Rush gains an understanding into how ASCENDED beings function: Once they ascend, any person who had understood, or gained enlightenment on any given subject or form of being, unwittingly saturates the ascended plane with their knowledge, which is immediately shared with anyone who calls for it, or has enough complexity to access it. Some one among the ancients, had ascended then perhaps retook mortal form, or through means unknown, had communicated with the pre-ascended ancients who remained, and shared with them the intimacies of ASCENDED life. Even as they finished construction on Destiny, many of the designers and builders grew more despondent with their mortal form (which surprised VIRTUAL Rush who was able to deduce that these despondent Ancients were so evolved, that they possessed abilities that were equivalent to, and in some cases able to surpass, what the Priors of the Ori was reportedly capable of) and longed for the higher planes of existence. Some among them still wanted to retain their mortality, especially their form of mortality which was greatly enhanced via natural evolution, and genetic manipulation, gate to Destiny so as to be able to reach the dawn of creation and see what complex entity had left the message in the back ground radiation of the universe's inception. Rush reasoned that these Ancients were perhaps overruled, since, the majority of the Alterans cared more for the continuation of the created, rather than the potential message of a creator. The Ancients had a habit of leaving their memories and feelings on things in every thing they made: They had signature devices, which copied their brain wave patterns, and as they completed something, they'd use their signature devices and stamp it with their feelings at that time. Rush recognized it as a comments line in a program; not only explaining what the program does, but the thinking and feelings of the programmer at that time. The Ancients felt familiar to the copy of the actual Nicholas Rush. Even as he gained enlightenment on these truths, he felt his essence being shared with the nodule he existed within, and that mingled complexity is taken back to the central hub of processes, the processor, which seems separate but equally as potent to, the AI of the mainframe. Instead of maintenance, Destiny's programs only needed a human subject to aide in updating and expanding it's functions: The complexities of processes that humans do or the potential of what they do in real time outside Destiny's data banks, can now be used as virtual potential, processing, deciding, altering, evolving. "Remarkable technology, " thought the virtual man as contentment and enlightened touched his virtual soul. But, just then, Rush saw something entering his virtual space, and a question that was asked, or more accurately called by another process, was taken from him before his virtual mouth could process anything to verbally respond. Nicholas had a flood of uber awareness, an ascended realization, that stormed across his digitized cranium; Destiny's program code, didn't have the means of abstracting it's data. Thus, one process could call from another, and just by being near another program, would be affected by the unprotected data which existed in another process. In a regular computer with limited processing power and space, these many errors would overburden it's system, but with Destiny, no doubt it has unlimited processing power, and near unlimited storage. Dr. Nicholas Rush laughed giddily for the first time in a long time. Since,he hadn't been this pleasantly surprised or joyful since he realized two years before, Destiny flying into a sun wasn't a critical error, but the means of the then nearly power depleted ship, to restore it's power; by removing solar energy near the star's corona. Rush realized that unlike Franklin, he had accessed the mainframes codes from the chair of knowledge in a steady stream. Where as Franklin was overwhelmed with raw data; trillions of Peta bits of information instantly where as, Rush had slowed down the process just enough, to be given specifics, that he could mentally digest and meditate upon over time, which enabled him to at the moment, have full control of Destiny's computer sub routine. As Rush called for updates on Destiny's invasion, he was flooded with imagery and sensor readings that startled him and baffled him all at once.
"What the hell is going on out there," queried Rush.


(I'm tired changing and altering bits of the above. drinking histatussin for days now is hampering my thinking abilities, but then, how is that different than any other day. There could be errors, and i'll fix them later, salute fuckers)

[Expletive]

(I've been writing one of my very own projects for a tad, and though I haven't written anything on that Project since Sunday, and have been fighting with 'I don't give a fuck' since then, I'm seemingly falling back into the groove of things. Not that I couldn't come back to write this lovely bit of what the fuck, but, the principles of 'I don't give a fuck' is not to do anything. And by anything, I mean specifically this piece of shit project that serves no other purpose than assisting me in developing some skill and being a persistent thinker; both of which I'm still failing at, and it's even failing in arousing interest in SGU since it's still canceled and everyone including the producers are moving on to other projects, which is fucking sad and is the reason why for several weeks, until just recently (last week, and then I only watched attack of the show, which is a blow since I claimed I wouldn't watch anymore once Olivia Munn left, but I'm falling in love with Candice Bailey because she's a lot more aggressive than Olivia Munn, and has that southern crazy going on, which is a lot more cooler than you Northern losers, and that might irritate you all, but who gives a fuck what you think!), but I'm staying from SYFY and most other television shows because they're all fucking stupid and is written by assholes, so why watch. I'll just stick to Discovery, History, Turbo, Discovery Civilization, CNN, National Geographic, G4, The Internet, downloading shit, reading Naruto Shippuden online in original Japanese with subtitles, Watching Bleach same as Naruto, reading the Manga for Bleach and Naruto every week, playing my Playstation 3, and when I'm done with all that awesomeness, I watch porn. So fuck network programming, and this goes double for Smallville which is a bunch of fucking shit and I'm pissed I once loved it. The best season was 5, and it seems since then it went to fuck all, which isn't surprising because Stephen DeKnight wasn't allowed to be awesome, and the other writers involved must have written for Earth Final Conflict season 5 and Andromeda season 2 until it got canned for being a piece of shit---because Smallville sucks this bad, and the whole Justice League arc sucked major ass, and continues to do so, so fuck you lot.)
(( Arguably the coolest shit on the telly is Supernatural, but I hate that fucking show because it's sacrilegious, even if it's written brilliantly. I'm trying to complete the book/movie script I started last week, even though I've had the idea for a time because I want to do a cheaply made, but brilliant shot movie, where Bahamian guys are robbing an Englishwoman's house, but she turns out to be a Senator Palpatine archetype, with all of his planning and evil powers, but they don't know that, and her darth vader is a fucking creature that is actually her Kage (which I'll explain at another time, but it's really cool) that gains it's power by consuming human flesh and evolving itself (sounds familiar). But I want it to be gritty and scary and lots of shadows, and in the dark gross scary shit; they're robbing her home because she mysteriously produces lots of gold which she sells at a gold/cash depot, and turns it over to the bank. So they're invading her home, not knowing that human flesh bone and blood fed to her kage makes the gold, but, as an alchemist, she's only allowed to feed her kage those who are a real danger to her---so everyone involved in the caper, over the years, she's given them an edge that makes them better and smarter than the regular Bahamian chap you'd meet on any given day. So she doesn't break any cosmic laws that judges the use of her kage, and this qualifies her to be able to use her kage. Basically it's using a lot of power only if you're facing some one that detrimental to your immediate existence. Her kage exist in the fourth dimension like every other kage, and it's allowed certain things that pertains to her eventuality.)
( ( And not everyone who has a kage can do what she does because she's very old and very powerful, and doesn't use her kage for anything other than attaining gold, which is the first rule of alchemy (make gold), with the only difference is, instead of spending hundreds of hours and attaining an infinite amount of materials to make her gold (since most materials she used thousands of years before, don't exist anymore), she kills bad people and use their bodies to convert it into gold value, much like the fremen takes the bodies of the dead and turn it into water to add to their tribe---human bodies have existential potential which simply says you have potential to do some amazing shit, so if you're trained or exposed to some one who enables you, then you could develop alchemic abilities, and chief among them, accessing your kage (if you're not natural to kage use, or doesn't have the biological mains to be able to attain it easily, you could use divine tools to cheat, but they're more dangerous and siphons your life energy to sustain them. But if you don't control your kage, it will eat you and become a rogue entity, that some one with a stronger kage could consume adding to their power), or some one could just use your life value to attain other rare and powerful materials or bits of power. Her Kage also has a human actual collective; people who her kage takes and are not dead, but joined to it's form to enable it to evolve, or to become more powerful, but instead of being cute like the shadow nebula cloud, in this SGU fan fiction, it's more like the creature from Leviathan, with your face poking out from it's body after it initially takes you, and you're there crying for help, but is beyond help, as it returns to the ocean to slip into the fourth dimension, where it will absorb you completely, and use your mind to help it with complex task and calculations within the chaotic universe of the fourth dimension---it's a work in progress; though I have written something salacious at the beginning where the ole' English (she calls herself English, but in actuality, she's just from the land that is presently called Great Britain, but she's no more English than Palpatine is comely and lowly) lady's kage emerges from the ocean in it's sea creature guise and have a bit of lovey time with the leathery ole' ma'am. And another bit is when one of the thieves is infatuated with gilfs and has a go at the ole' girl---good shit
((But I'm determined to do the movie as simple as possible; woman comes into bank, makes a deposit, comes out, guy comes out of bank, goes to a car, he's wearing a long sleeves shirt, tie, he and another guy follows the woman to her home, then they go to kemp rd, meets up with some other guys, the guys are thieves who they meet, the two in the car are both friends one works at a local money for gold, and the other works in the bank, they plan to hit the ole woman and take her gold. they call another friend of theirs who works for a security company and he tells them she has a state of the art home system, they go to pine wood search for the guy who has helped them break into homes with key pads in the past, the guy resist, but due to his financial situation and losing his job, his wife and five kids don't have much. He's against it, but his wife convinces him to join the crew, even though he's against it, he goes, eventuality, and they're fucked, but only after sexing the ole' gal, and one of them drowning her in a tub of water, the house, turns against them, and doors that was there has become walls, and hallways extend, and the lady in question who got molested and is now face first inside the tub wasn't the ole' lady, but her kage, which has now been allowed to go into kill mode, and the guys are fucked It turns out the ole lady was always the kage, and the actual woman has merged with it, and is actually a young looking gal, and the kage that comes out of the sea to have relations with her isn't her kage, but is the kage's means by which to affect the world it exist in. In simple terms, the ole woman kage is a computer, the thing that comes out of the sea to have sex with her now and again is the internet---makes sense eh? After everyone dies, the guy who does the key pad is the only survivor, and gets out of the house and gets home to his family, but then, he notices his flesh starts to change and bulging eyes pop out all over his body and a large mouth appears where his stomach is, and the kage which had absorbed him, attacks his family. At the end it walks towards the sea, and a tall it's dragging with tangled arms and legs in it, the camera will focus on the end of the tail, with his youngest daughter age three, crying, she's being dragged into the sea, merged with the kage)

Jessica Layman's subconscious mind begins to grow expeditiously in ability and potential, thus, it tries to see through the apparent psych fuck, it's owner is suffering. Though at the moment, unlike her subconscious mind, Jessica could care less about reality or fiction, and is greedily perusing pleasure with such ferocity, she unknowingly exceeds the ferocity experienced by feral lesser creatures on earth: The display of the men engaged in continual coitus with her, and the savagery of how they want to please her sexually, only adds to the awesomeness of it all. And her hidden mind begins to understand more than it should, and sees the holes in it's owner's reality, and began to feel the need to warn her, even though at the moment, it hadn't the capacity to achieve this.
Through some means unknown to Paul Howard, his doppelganger was the shadow creature that had started to feed upon him, and was now changing his body to match it's own. And some how, Jessica Layman was the catalyst to it all. Paul Howard started to become aware of every part of his body, as if each cell represented a point where information was being attained and transferred through his neural network to his mind. He could literally tell a part of himself to do something, and the cell did it. It was as if, this creature had some how changed the way he existed---but it was eating him, how could it switch from eat to 'change into another life form' so quickly, unless. Unless some how, this is it's only purpose, consume and 'to become better'; and both actions are interchangeable; if it can't attain perfection through consuming something else, it would try and replicate the other creature's existence to in effect, better itself. Perhaps this creature is kin to the shadow smoke creature discovered on Atlantis, which was marooned on another planet via a Stargate and Rodney McKay wearing an Ancient personal shield: The Ancients was apparently using that creature to figure out ascension, because that creature affected the ascended plane, if only partially, much like the creature before him. But according to reports, the creature on Atlantis didn't consume flesh, only absorbed the ambient energy from it, and was more in tuned with devouring mechanical energy. But regardless of the how or why, Paul Howard was changing for the better, but, he needed to help this creature try and attain ascension. Even though it existed partially there, he wanted it to push itself all the way, and in exchange, it would carry all those attuned to it's biological functions, namely Paul, and Jessica. He had to help it focus on it's discomfort; at the sight of other beings who resembles it, engaging in sexual depravity. Because being the creature it was, it sticks to the laws of it's nature, as opposed to allowing it to feel it's way to a choice. Paul Howard though sexually deviant, condemns himself based on a biblical rule system. So naturally the shade of the stout human would gravitate towards the only semblance of order in the chaotic psyche of Paul Howard.

(I'm tired and I've been typing for a while, and I've tried to proof read what I've written, but I've decided to say go fuck yourselves---have a good evening . By the way, I liked wolfman, but hated the August Underground trilogy; I watched them all yesterday, but seriously, if you've read everything I've typed, then you're aces, if you haven't, then you're still aces but also gay.)

[Expletive]

(They had a fire on bay street yesterday, which is equivalent, I guess, of a fire happening near the capitol building. But seeing as how Nassau is an old town that only became modern, and kept everything as it was since it's inception almost a century ago, I'd say we're fortunate all of Bay Street wasn't destroyed. At least, they're fortunate because I don't care one way or the other; I'm still broke, and I still don't have much of anything, so them having Bay street or not is big for them and the thousands of tourist that's in port right now.
(I heard on the news that the authorities were guaranteeing tourist that the fire which began at Kelly Dock wasn't terrorist related, wait, What ---seriously, I'm not making that shit up, I couldn't make that shit up, even if I tried. They were telling Tourist. "Yo, you can rest easy, that fire that happened in a noncritical relatively unimportant part of Nassau in an area where no one was at, and even if someone was there they'd have more than enough time to leave, call the proper authories and piss on the fire before being in any serious trouble, yeah, that fire, it wasn't terror related. So you and everyone else on your several crew ships which are in port right now, that are essentially packed like sardine cans with humans (ten thousand reports said), are safe of that fire, that occurred hundreds of yards from the closest ship---and it's not terrorist related."
(Well hell, thank you for that you authoritative figure, now why don't you shove a carrot up your ass and dance a sambo jig like a proper ****** for the whiteys. I hear they love that shit, asshole. I'd like to post pictures of the fire (no I don't), but if you care enough to see them you'll have to use google, because I don't care enough to show them, I'm just pissed at the guy who tried to explain to tourist that terrorist who doesn't, and hasn't (And hopefully they never will) target the ships in port or the Atlantis resort---even though they have tons of guys seen and unseen protecting these places---but will set fire to a building owned by the very people that pissed in my kool-aid and shat in my cornflakes. Good Job You Authorative person you, Good JOB!
(How did the fire began you ask; old building, lots of flammable debris, owners more concerned with making millions than making sure their shit's straight. But then, if I was making millions monthly, do you think, I'd spend hundreds of thousands to make a very old building fire proof, and loose millions more in business? I think not, let the bitch burn, Besides Kelly's may suck when it comes to treating their staff, even those dog-like-loyal (yes, I'm an idiot), but they plan for rainy days, and fire days. So they insure everything. But a five million dollar insurance pay off in the coming months is nothing compared to the millions they'll lose in the coming months from sales; at any given time they'd have more than a million dollars worth of stuff in the warehouse. I wish them all the best though, even though a few who worked for them did me wrong, I wish them the best, if for no other reason, I do so for the old man who passed year before Last; Dack. )

Master Sargent Ronald Greer, has had his share of scary moments, which he always did his best to brush off and charge head first into the situation regardless of the danger. Which always made observers conclude that perhaps Master Sargent Greer was a mental case like his father (for those that knew of his father, which was all the Senior staff, especially Camilla Wray), and for others especially Scott (despite being Senior staff), to conclude that he's incapable of feeling fear (Young Knew better and admired Greer's strength despite his mortal limitations). When in actuality, he did his best to be courageous regardless of the hidden layer of fear he'd always had, and perhaps would always have thanks to his father, Reginald Greer. So naturally, Greer over reached himself and tried his best to be called the mascot of courage and it's cousin, bravery, since; without fear, one cannot be courageous, and without blind audacity, it would be impossible to be brave. And Ronald Greer was always fearful; of becoming his father, and audacious; to never become his father. But as courageous or as brave as Master Sargent Greer is, he only uses these forms of being within reason.
Before Greer, stood a swirling black smoke of death, that he'd seen on a kino display pad moments before, swallowing up several crew members. And where they once stood was no debris, not even bits of flesh or clothing. But, though the Kino display pad, he did see human gore within the swirling mass being dissolved into the black smoke. The creature was moving at an inhuman purposeful speed attacking everything and anything that lived or moved (except for the kino), and would be upon the Master Sargent eventually. Thus Greer, knowing that the end was inevitable, decides that if it consumes human flesh, then maybe it has a biological component that could be damaged as well, so if it wanted to eat him, it had to work for it's food. Using the Kino to see it's distance from him, Master Sargent Greer said a prayer, thanking God for life, and hoping he warranted salvation (for he has sinned a great many times, but always in shame, and sadness), and ended his prayer with a verbal, "Amen." Just around the bend, he hears cries of horror and fear and a sound that was a composite of rushing wind, and grinding metal; almost to deafening levels. Master Sargent Greer knew almost immediately that his facing this thing, was far beyond reason, and could only have a terrifying and painful end. But, as his courage waned, his audacious proclivities knew, that Greer wouldn't have it any other way.

( It's Wednesday, a day later since I started the above since yesterday I had so much to do, and then after all of that, I watched a movie called Sunset Limited with Tommy Lee Jones and Samuel Jackson; a tour de force of brilliance I'll tell you what. And after watching that and All-Star Superman, I went to sleep. Though Monday I felt sick, and yesterday I felt a bit off, with my heart beating irregular, but, regardless, yesterday felt charmed, even if it wasn't. I liked Hayzeus Martinez twitter tweet twang about helping him choose our favorite quote of his on twitter. But choosing one of Hayzeus' twits is like choosing a good shit; they're so many good shits in our life time, it's hard to choose which is one of the greatest shits ever.)

Blow torch in hand, Greer careened around the bend, and fired a burst into the oncoming swirling darkness---his life wasn't flashing before his eyes as many would claim happened to them before an inevitable death (that wasn't apparently inevitable enough since, they always survived to speak of it). Greer at the apparent end of his life, still hoped that even if his final actions on board Destiny was futile, it would hopefully warrant a memorandum of his final acts, to be written in the book of life, that is, if the Lord were to use the ''time of Ronald Greer' as a what to do in-spite of death, to inspire men of the faithful in the face of annihilation. Opening his mind and heart, trying to invoke the great Spirit beyond the universe, Greer wanted to strengthen his faith, to make his last moments superlative, to perhaps garner the courage of future humanity if his life were recorded by a servant of God: To hopefully inspire some one as lost as he once was, to reach through the darkness for the inevitable light, that Ronald Greer always believed existed, regardless of the gloomy plateau of existence. 'As it was with Daniel in the lions den,' thought Greer.
But seeing the swirling shade of nothingness, made Greer pause, not that he wasn't going to go ahead with his plan since, it was far too late for retreat, but, that he wanted to do so with strength and courage granted by the Lord, and not so much by his own measly mortality. Firing the blow torch at the oncoming maelstrom seemingly stopped it, but, as the jets of fire pierced the cloud, Greer heard moaning and giggling as if the thing before him was experiencing pleasure from the fire. His first thought was of the devil and it's creations and minions from hell, not that Greer believed in hell for the wicked, but instead believed that if we die, we're judged and if we're not worthy we're cast out, to wander forever without form or purpose. But, the concept of hell for humanity, never touched Greer's heart because after reading the bible, he always felt that the Lord he read about wouldn't create a hell for anyone, except for his enemy the devil. Interestingly, for a long time, Greer thought his father was the devil, until he was old enough to realize that his father was simply sad and defeated; and being thus, Ronald's father simply decided to take out his rage on others, until, Reginald Greer died of a brain infection. Yet, in the darkness of Destiny's corridor, slightly illuminated by emergency glow rods speckled throughout destiny, there was something before him, that made him think that he had the wrong impressions of hell, and maybe, things that were locked in hell could escape. Perhaps humanity was never meant to come out this far because maybe, just maybe, out here, was a short cut, or a back door to hell, and Destiny had unwittingly driven close enough to be attacked by a spawn of the devil.
"What the fuck are you!" Shouted Greer, immediately cursing his fear that caused him to blurt out such an expletive, especially at the end of his mortal existence. The creature, swirling with apparent pleasure, started cooing as if a lover feeling the touch of her partners fingers edging towards her hidden joy. Greer thought of the devil himself and realized that perhaps this was in fact Satan, in his true form since his fall from heaven. But how could that be?
"O my Lord what is this thing before me?" Cries out Greer, hoping that some where in the darkness of space, the Lord sees him and would help him to not 'carry beyond what he could bare.' But then Suddenly, almost immediately, the creature stopped cooing and shrilling in pleasure, and starts to back pedal, as if withdrawing from Greer. As it does this, the front side of it's body pauses, but the rest of it, from a few yards back, tries to pull away from the front section. Greer was planning to retreat since his weaponry proved ineffective, and perhaps the Lord was chasing the demon from his servant, but, regardless of the reason, Greer would make good with the opportunity he had: He'd get in a space suit, grab enough supplies and head for the shuttle to see if he could fly around to the bridge and attempt to contact anyone there, if anyone was alive.
A voice boomed from the cloud which Greer knew, but wasn't sure it was really the person or the devil trying to fool him. "It's me Rebeca Gleason, Sargent Greer, and I promise you, no harm will come to you or anyone else on board Destiny." Rebeca? Couldn't be. The scriptures always said that the enemy could change himself into an angel of light to mislead many. And Greer thought it was a trick of the devil. So inching back steadily, Master Sargent Greer thought to retrace his steps, until he made it to the bulk head door, less than fifteen feet away. He'd toss the blow torch gun at it, and leave on the torch and open the fuel supply nozzle, hoping the devil would feed on the fire and enable him to get away. A loud demonic, unearthly, horrible gut curdling scream emitted from the cloud, which mingled with a desperate wail, caused Master Sargent Ronald Greer to stop suddenly. His body tensed with terror; never before had he heard such a thing at such decibels; the adulation alone pitched from high to low and all in between with echoes and screams, all merged and repetitive, overlapping, conjoining, terrifying. Through the screams and wails a woman's voice sprang forth.
"Hold on Master Sargent, I'm almost done, I'm trying to pull enough of what's me back from this thing, damn it, it's got bits of me spread everywhere, wow, this is new." Said the Voice that sounded like Rebeca Gleason, only with a slight echo as she spoke.
"Wait? What?" Gasped Greer.
"You're planning to run around the corner, hence the back back motion, but this thing can move at up to the speed of light, and at least several times the speed of sound; It'd catch you before you even knew it was ripping your butt through your asshole." Rebeca Gleason snorted with laughter, and for a moment, Greer remembered the geeky looking, nerdy Rebeca snorting and drooling whenever she laughed, 'the devil transforms himself into an angel of light' said the voice of Reginald Greer that Ronald heard from time to time, even though he was always audacious enough to ignore it.

(It's almost 11:30, and I'm tired, and want to listen to a bit of music, and write on my other project, so I leave this with you, and the pictures from the fire day before yesterday, courtey of http://www.weblogbahamas.com/ and Rob Lowe, or was it Rick Lowe---who gives a shit, here's the pictures)

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I've been reading some of my earlier post, and i can't believe no one actually realized just how fucking crazy I was (or am). Thankfully I'm safely numb (comfortably numb?), and I suffer a spark of mania, once or twice a week; and even then it's brief and dies a swift death before it gets out of hand. For me, especially now, Depression last a lot longer, but when I'm depressed, I'm incredibly sane; with no sparks of mania, or anything remotely strange. And trust me, they're times, I'm really fucking strange. Not that I do strange things, but I think strange things. Let's just say, there are days when I'm never bored. When I watched A Serbian Film, I was relieved when I watched a rape beheading scene, and got literally offended at what I was watching. Or that time I watched Irreversible and got upset at the scene where the fag (not a The Gay, but a dude, who acts as if he's gay, but he doesn't like to screw men in the ass, only shemales, and as far as I'm concerned, that shit's only pseudo Gay, so he's not a The Gay, he's a pseudo gay, aka a fag) rapes Monica Belluci's character anally, and beats her head into the concrete---that was tough to watch, and offended me greatly at the lack of concern for other people that bastard showed (and beating some one that looks like Monica is worst than a sin, it's unforgivable).
I think the problem with crazy people and the reason why they're always harming other people, is a lack of empathy; the ability to think, wonder, imagine, how another person would feel. For instance, when I yell at my family, and say disgusting things, I'm reminded by how their words sometimes cut me, and then I feel remorseful, and apologize (sometimes). Or when I want to punch some one's face in, I punch myself or hit my hand against a wall to remind myself that violence hurts and it's dangerous. When thoughts pop into my head to harm people, I simply tell those thoughts to fuck off. Or when for no reason, I feel like freaking out, I imagine it's the devil telling me to do this, and then I reciprocate; why didn't he freak out before he got Eve to sin (not saying it is him, but, It's simply an exercise to control myself). I have feelings, but I do my best to suppress them---and thank heavens, it's worked well for me lately.
I'm hoping to become a much better writer, so that when I write something salacious, almost immediately, girls wet their panties and The Gay gu----FUCK YOUUUUU!!!!!

This week, I felt like shit, Depression had me feeling like not giving a fuck, so, I didn't. But I tried to meditate, and I listened to something to get me going---the need to feel anarchy, but thanks to be being always chaotic, even the smooth sounds of Dying Fetus wasn't enough to inspire me. Ain't that fucked up, when suppose'd death metal is boring to me. But don't get me wrong, I listen to this even when I'm perfectly fine because I like the message Dying Fetus' Homicidal Retribution propagates: and I can't wait until one of you, My American friends, take this song to heart, and kill that fucker that killed that nine year old girl born on September 11 2001, shot that congresswoman---thank God she's recovering, and killed and injured several others.

I'll get back to writing SGU, but I just wanted to put this here because even though I haven't done the dirty ( had sex), when ever I'm here, I feel as if I'm well into my refractory period after skeeting in some awesome cunny bleed, with the ability of busting another nut, mere moments away---and the glans begins to inflate, rousting the sleeping curled up beast, from deep within her mighty awesome.

Dying Fetus' Homocidal Retribution

Don't mind the lyrics, I'll post the other version with the words just after this video. I hope it inspires you, like it's done for me, whenever I was bored. The skills required for these chords are phenomenal, they're awesome!

http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=QVJxCLcU6Wc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_WGRqtI9z4