My name is not important.

edited 2014-10-16 23:07:58 in General
What is important is what I’m going to do. I just
fucking hate this world and the human worms
feasting on its carcass. My whole life is just cold
bitter hatred, and I always wanted to die violently.
This is the time of vengeance and no life is worth
saving. And I will put in a grave as many as I can.
It’s time for me to kill and it’s time for me to die.
My genocide crusade begins…. here

image

Comments

  •                    oh shit, madden                             
    image
  • time is an illusion, fuckboy
    image
  • I've learned to tolerate drama...except on the boat
               My name is Barack Hussein Obama.
       I am the 44th President of the United States.
    image
  • edited 2014-10-17 00:31:11
    We can do anything if we do it together.
    Someday Mother will die and I'll get the money
    Mom leans down and says, "My sentiments exactly
    You son of a bitch"
    I palindrome I!

    image
  • Sup bitches, witches, Haters, and trolls.
    it doesn't matter who we are

    what matters is our plan
  • god DAMMIT lily

    now the thread is ruined
  • edited 2014-10-17 00:42:24
    Sup bitches, witches, Haters, and trolls.
    sorry

    also it has a doubled l
  • Touch the cow. Do it now.
    Lilly said:

    it doesn't matter who we are


    what matters is our plan
    I almost made this same post an hour ago, but restrained myself

    yntkt
  • well that's ok

    because your new name

    is




    GARFIELD!
    image
  • edited 2014-10-17 01:25:54
    kill living beings

    Did I ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? His whole abdomen would move up and down you dig farting out the words. It was unlike anything I ever heard.

    This ass talk had sort of a gut frequency. It hit you right down there like you gotta go. You know when the old colon gives you the elbow and it feels sorta cold inside, and you know all you have to do is turn loose? Well this talking hit you right down there, a bubbly, thick stagnant sound, a sound you could smell.

    This man worked for a carnival you dig, and to start with it was like a novelty ventriliquist act. Real funny, too, at first. He had a number he called “The Better ‘Ole” that was a scream, I tell you. I forget most of it but it was clever. Like, “Oh I say, are you still down there, old thing?”

    “Nah I had to go relieve myself.”

    After a while the ass start talking on its own. He would go in without anything prepared and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time.

    Then it developed sort of teeth-like little raspy in-curving hooks and started eating. He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it, but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking on the street, shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags nobody loved it and it wanted to be kissed same as any other mouth. Finally it talked all the time day and night, you could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the asshole said to him: “It’s you who will shut up in the end. Not me. Because we dont need you around here any more. I can talk and eat and shit.”

    After that he began waking up in the morning with a transparent jelly like a tadpole’s tail all over his mouth. This jelly was what the scientists call un-D.T., Undifferentiated Tissue, which can grow into any kind of flesh on the human body. He would tear it off his mouth and the pieces would stick to his hands like burning gasoline jelly and grow there, grow anywhere on him a glob of it fell. So finally his mouth sealed over, and the whole head would have have amputated spontaneous — (did you know there is a condition occurs in parts of Africa and only among Negroes where the little toe amputates spontaneously?) — except for the eyes you dig. Thats one thing the asshole couldn’t do was see. It needed the eyes. But nerve connections were blocked and infiltrated and atrophied so the brain couldn’t give orders any more. It was trapped in the skull, sealed off. For a while you could see the silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes, then finally the brain must have died, because the eyes went out, and there was no more feeling in them than a crab’s eyes on the end of a stalk.

    image


  • Touch the cow. Do it now.
    /thread
Sign In or Register to comment.