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  #11  
Old 03-11-2009, 12:52 AM
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nachos1345 nachos1345 is offline
I'm no alien, but I am illegal in 50 states.
 
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The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

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  #12  
Old 03-11-2009, 12:54 AM
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Expletive Expletive is offline
Cluster-Bomb this MothaFucka!
 

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Sometimes I wish I didn't have to sleep.
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  #13  
Old 03-11-2009, 12:55 AM
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n2tattoos.lol n2tattoos.lol is offline
I can say Jap cuz I am a Jap! ...Jap jap jappity jap.lol
 

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if you wanna torture is, why not just post pics of your girlfriend?


and by girlfriend, i mean your mom.
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  #14  
Old 03-11-2009, 01:00 AM
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Expletive Expletive is offline
Cluster-Bomb this MothaFucka!
 

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I don't have either or, but your girlfriend would do nicely.
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  #15  
Old 03-11-2009, 01:05 AM
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Expletive Expletive is offline
Cluster-Bomb this MothaFucka!
 

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gone sleeping.
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  #16  
Old 03-11-2009, 07:29 AM
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Expletive Expletive is offline
Cluster-Bomb this MothaFucka!
 

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From me; It's what douches do,

To you: Consumer of all things wholesome,

a poem: Walking Dead




I know enough to speak it well, those without Joy suffer endless hell, compulsory service tries do me, which holds us for eternity, cruel cruel world no love is found, for dead loved ones beneath the ground, or ashes fall from higher skies, beneath the rubble or by teeth we die, which ever the means say it well, tis better to live in endless hell, than to exist no where be found, food for worms beneath the ground, and to the virgin cherry kept, here comes the worm to violate flesh, so it ends with mortal kind, suffer for a little then die for all time.
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  #17  
Old 03-12-2009, 07:26 AM
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thermos thermos is offline
Granny pr0n poster extraordinaire
 

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you're a resilient fucker, ain't ya? You're starting to grow me.

I forget who called you non-sequitur....I think it was Vix...but they were spot the fuck on. I kinda enjoy it. We spout direct, concise hate/filth at you...and you rebut with some off-the-wall nonsense. Well played, fatty.

Having said all that, I'd still like to harpoon you and fill-up my oil lanterns with your blubbery tallow.
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  #18  
Old 03-12-2009, 08:53 AM
DSF Guest 10 DSF Guest 10 is offline
kicked the fuck out
 

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apparently, that's my job.

And I do it better than expletive.
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  #19  
Old 03-13-2009, 09:31 AM
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I'm the quintessential atomic cock roach, we never say die, we improvise, it's genetics.
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  #20  
Old 03-20-2009, 09:42 PM
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A story I wrote but never proof read because I'm a lazy bastard. I sent it to compatriots of mine, we're writers, at least they are and i"m faking it, regardless, have at it.



An update to the madness, Proof red it is; July 4 2008 8:20PM


In the distance Jogen Mayfield could just make out what appeared to be lights. She at present, running through knee high bushes that scraped her legs, was drawn to this location via a dream. Or was it a vision? Perhaps it was during the time she slipped arsenic tablets in her grandfather's denture solution, or just before she planted child pornography pictures in her principle's desk moments before his wife stopped by suspecting him of cheating--- which he was, with Jogen---, or more importantly; cheating with a girl who intentionally left a lip stick stain on the front of his white briefs. Jogen as she ran felt the weight of intent no more than a few steps behind her. From a young child she could sense the evil thoughts in others, or what she believed to be the evil thoughts of others. Her neighbor, Mr Furley, would watch as she rode her bike around her neighborhood thus, he wanted to rape her. She so believed this she goaded him for two years until unable to resist, he made an attempt. Jogen of course resisted and her neighbor mortified quickly apologized. But the intent was done and Jogen threatened to tell. Mr Furley beside himself with grief and regret pleaded that Jogen not tell any one. She reluctantly agreed but only after he swore to give her what ever she wanted. This usually involved him giving her money or more importantly a feasible alibi when questioned by her parents or the authorities. This went on for sometime until her father---step father---imposed himself into Jogen and Mr Furley's business and had to be eliminated. Her elimination of choice was for him to be seen as a child molester but read that most wives had trouble sending their husbands to jail even if they molested their children. This wouldn't do so she asked that Mr Furley take her to the library to find a more efficient way of killing daddy. Her father upon finding out her request, resisted and insisted that he would carry Jogen instead. Jogen smiled and agreed with her father's ruling, though inside she wanted to stab him to death. Her father ever dutiful took her to the library and Jogen found the most perfect way to kill daddy; arsenic. Later that night, she called Mr Furley and asked him to procure arsenic for her. Her intent was clear enough to Mr Furley, but according to Jogen, it was her father whose wicked intent would be the reason for his having to die.
As such feelings evolve, clarity of such became clearer to Jogen but, wicked intent seemed like child's play compared to what she was now experiencing; in her mind's eye, she imagined her hunter to have an axe in hand which he would chop her into a million pieces with. Jogen's path became a steep incline and she back peddled best she could to avoid falling over. The building which for the first time had a name to match its elusive purpose, was called Diner 66. This Diner had beckoned Jogen repeatedly and even told her how to find it. She felt it calling to her as a sleepy person would ceremoniously hear the invitation of their bed. Though such a thing would have caused red flags to be raised in Jogen's usually suspicious nature, putty she was to it's supernatural will.
"Yes I'm almost there. I'm fr....urk!" Jogen stopped with a start. Looking down towards her knee, she saw a rather large blade sticking through it. Her attacker slid down the steep incline beside her effectively knocking Jogen off her feet. As she tried to resist the attacker had another knife.
"Wait please. O god pl...." The attacker with swift accuracy slit her throat preventing her from speaking or crying out. She attempted to scratch out his eyes but lost three of her fingers with another swipe of the blade. Jogen became aware that she couldn't move. Then she noticed an odd smell which was even more scented than her blood and urine. Some type of paralyzing agent perhaps, which sole purpose was to paralyze her to avoid her hurting her attacker, but seemingly it made all of her nerve centers alive. As the shock which she invited mysteriously subsided, Jogen started moaning in pain as the attacker ripped away her shirt. He shoved his blade down into her abdomen, causing a hot lava pain sensation through out her midsection. With all her strength Jogen tried to get up but was unable to as she felt the knife slicing into what must have been her bowels. Her rectum exploded outward, coughing up fecal matter curdled with blood. Jorgen's attacker seemed enraged.
"Girl's poop is supposed to be flowers! You filthy whore! Only flowers is supposed to come out!" Jogen knew her attacker well, for she had touched such a person now and again deep within her personage; its name was Madness. Jogen looked up at the stars and tried to make her self die, but mysteriously, even after she knew she should have been dead due to her loss of blood, her pain continued. Her eyes averted back towards her attacker only when he pulled up something which spurted blood into her eyes. Jogen looked at what appeared to be her uterus and thought to herself 'yuck' as she slipped into darkness.
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