coffee, anyone?

I look straight into the eyes of my victim......i see that she is crying. Shes begging me not to take her life away but i have no choice. People think its easy being me. They dont see the pain and suffering that i see. They dont see the chaos and the bloodshed that i go through day by day. I grab the victim by the hair and pull her head back. I put my hand over her mouth to keep myself from hearing the desperate screams. Slowly, but with confidence, i take the blade to her throat. I cry to myself as it runs across her neck, tearing away at the sensative flesh. I close my eyes as not to see the blood shooting out into the air. I realease my grip and the no longer living body falls to the ground. I cry to myself, wondering why i was forced to live this nightmare. I head back to what i call home. the spirits begging and grabbing at my ankles as i walk down the wretched paths of this horrid place. I can hear little kids screaming and grown men and women pleading for their life. the smell is like something i cant describe, all the souls rotting away in the stream of afterlife. Arms of little children reaching up above the altered water, grabbing at me. I just want to scream and give it all up, but i am forced to live here, to watch these lost souls, make sure they stay where they belong and not escape back to the real world, where they will become lost spirits. I am forced to kill the ones who dont obey the ammendments, the ones that go against the system, forced to sit in this "throne" of needles, for all eternety. And there are more of them, every single day, more people who cant control themselves, more people that will be forced to live the same life as i do. And i just kill, watch and kill some more. Who do i blame for this punishment?? Do i blame Zuess, the one that sent me here, or do i blame myself, for being the way i was. People fear me, they shouldn't. They should fear for what lies ahead of them. A tortured existence that they call "hell". I wish i could go back, wish i could be a better person, if i only would have known......

 

...or was it 'Kain-Soul Reaver',you've been occupying your tender young 16yr old mind with???Hmmmmm?

 

I just farted... it smells really bad..

 

Final Fantasy 8 is my game of choice.

 

I dont give a FUCK what you think about my literary talents, your just jealous cause you aint got non talent, thats why your another loser posting at Fugly.

 

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by darknessallaroundme:
lets see you do better.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

ok then...

I remember my fingers were numb, so numb they may as well have not been there. The pain in my left shoulder and both knees was getting worse with each snowflake that fell on my freezing cold body. Freezing to death, wish that on your worst enemy, it's the most painful experience I have ever endured, the feeling you get when you first Step into a hot bath, you know, that pain that makes you recoil and utter blasphemous comments about the particular icon of whatever religion it is that you practice. Well imagine that feeling, that first tingle of pain, spreading from the outmost points of your body, (for the less educated amongst you, that would be toes, fingers, ears, etc.) and working its way in slower to all your major organs, you see, the cold settles in and consumes you even breathing, is an effort because the air around you is frozen and with every breath you take it feels like you're inhaling tiny daggers of ice.
I was rocking back and forth like a institutionalised psycho not realising, that was the thing that was draining my limited energy.
I can remember saying, "Latoe Mountain? Yes sweetheart, its a relatively easy climb for beginners, I'll be fine." and like a damn fool there I was about to meet my maker, or whatever. On a treacherous piss-hole of a ravine that didn't even have the decency to be sheltered from the harsh death-squad wind that would blow up out of nowhere just to make my pain that little bit more intolerable. What I can't remember is when the first crack started to appear. I am certain that it was around the time I looked into my bag, where my last piece of food was, a sandwich I had brought from the canteen before I'd set off for the hike, it was meat, I had told that bitch specifically, cheese and tomato, and taking into consideration that meat had never before passed my lips, as my parents are, and always have been, strict vegetarians. I suppose you could say that was the carnivore straw that broke the vegetarians back. I'll start at the beginning, because, when all hope packs its bags, and pays its bill in full. Where else can you go, but to your car.
Ahhhh the beginning even though, considering the facts, and the blatant meandering of all that cosmic shit that you read about in women’s weeklies, the beginning is merely the middle of the end. Don't be confused my compadres, I am just realising the true cycle and sequence of life. OK, here comes an admission of sorts. Confessions aren't really my strong point, not that I'm confessing to anything here, ladies and gentlemen, we all know what my motives were for doing, or aspiring to do, whatever it is I may or may not have done up until this point. And we cannot condemn a man for protecting his hypothetical investments in the future, can we? No, we can't condemn, and we certainly cannot judge him. And, I'll tell you why my heart and soul now lie weightless in my body, now that the inadequate and diseased fucks that I so kindly put out of their misery, met me and their fate. Sorry there I go jumping the gun again, where was I?
Yes Latoe, they say (not woman’s weekly this time I am talking the global THEY) that the split second before you walk towards that white light, the split second before your spirit evaporates and comes to in a another life form (as you can see I am trying to cater to everyone’s religious preferences.) The split second before you realise that your ashes will be thrown to the wind where acquaintances, rather than friends, sit comforting your Wife Whilst my relentless bitch of a mother-in-law serves sausage pastries, that she just loves to bake for her guests. OK, so that fate was what I had imagined mine to be, how can you expect optimism when one is freezing his balls off. Well I don't actually know about any of that, but when your waiting to die, or wishing as I was because the pain was, and I'm not saying this for effect, torture. Life just seems to become a small flash of existence, and the universe begins to explode, creating its own weather pattern inside your mind. It decides its course, and has to run its path.
Lets get down to specifics, I had decided to go hiking on a whim. I'd only been twice before. When I was a young boy with my father. But hasty, and decision, are my middle names. So hiking it was, Sara my trouble and strife, gets so pissed if I don't think things through, she practically has a stroke any time I forget something on a grocery list, which she, by the way, categorises. Dairy, meat, fruit etc. For the non-familiar, Sara's my wife, she's not a vegetarian, and we have been married for ten god damn years. I loved that woman, but sex once a month, with in between blow-jobs, isn't my idea of fun. I think it's a guilt thing, as long as she feels guilty for not giving me any, I can count on weekly blow-jobs. And show me a guy that would turn one of those babies down. She's not Rocky Horror either, in fact, she's quite beautiful. Its just unfortunate that the hot blood that runs
through her veins, seems to turn to ice when ever I'm around, lucky old me. Anyway regardless of her hate for the impulsive nature of her husband, she seemed happy that I was going on this hike. She packed my bag, cooked me an nice breakfast, smiling, laughing at my jokes.... WHORE. Sorry forgive my outbursts, the reason will come to light soon enough, no doubt.
Something happens to a man when he's perched, precariously, on a snowy mountainside. His broken bones,
and penis that has hibernated into his stomach, are the least of his worries. So he starts to reflect, that famous cliched fog starts to lift, and now that the fog seems to be lifting, he can see deeper inside himself than ever before. And it suddenly hits him, that his own mind is a vast undiscovered country. Imagine my horror when a man like me, Mr Jack Douglas, merchant banker, and player of golf, and other leisurely sports. Mr Me, enjoyer of fine food, and wine, and sport on TV. Jack, grateful for any sexual contact my wife would give me, hardly ever complaining, law abiding since my early twenties. Imagine the bile thick and lumpy rising up my parched and freeze dried throat. When I caught a glimpse of the raw me, that was so well hidden I might have missed him, had these affairs of mine not been in such a sorry state. He was not the Jack that had first set off on that hike. Was rescued, seventy four hours and fifty one minutes later, a broken collarbone, fractured kneecaps, and hypothermia amongst his injuries.
Just one last point I need to get across before we can crack on. I left a very precious gift for Latoe Mountain. Kind of a thank you, for putting up with my desperate, unheard pleas for help for three days. Also, for so cleverly soaking up the urine that seemed to just want to escape from my body before I died. So it wouldn't have to stay there, and dry up, or whatever it does. Sorry, rambling again. OK, the gift, wrapped with the sweet stench of piss, the brain cells that consisted of my logical and good-thought promoting mind, squeezed themselves out of my right nostril. The devils, marched out and down, over my mouth. I can remember frantically licking, to see if I could save a few. Maybe I could ingest them back in somehow. But they seemed to be made up out of a saliva resistant matter. One by slimy one, they screamed out and down, their sense of direction was stunning actually, although I didn't think this at the time. You could safely say, that I was completely freaking out. Once they had all safely assembled themselves on my shoulder, they simply, and very gracefully, jumped off. Again, this didn't appear graceful at the time. This image, actually, gave me my first proper bowel movement since I had fallen into the ravine. Tiny, coloured parasols excreted themselves. From out of what I assume to be their backs. And then they all turned around, waving at me, before melting into the snow. Don't think this is a warped mind on mountainside, this is just a mind on a mountainside. I saw all of this as clear as crystal. They bailed on me the bastards. Oh well, life's a bitch, and then you marry one. That was the first, but not the last, oddity I saw on Latoe, whilst waiting to die. I never believed I was going to be found. But I was. And, I suppose, I had better get back to specifics. Don't you?

 

This one time... in band camp...

 

P. Diddy i've never heard such a poor excuse for a story. Stick with fucking your mom. you suck fucking cock. Darkness your shit is hardcore and i wouldn't mind if you could send me a story or two: oz2000_2000@hotmail.com

 

like beacons in a fog the forum bitches seek out each other for comfort and solace...

 

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by P. Diddy:
like beacons in a fog the forum bitches seek out each other for comfort and solace...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Like beacons to a frog, the fat bitches seek out each other for comfort and wart cream.

 

Mom? Is that you?

 

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Lomotil:
Like beacons to a frog, the fat bitches seek out each other for comfort and wart cream.
<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>


here slo-me.. i uploaded pic to my webspace.. no no more posting pics from 'budget.com'

you need anymore doing or if you want some of this free webspace.. MSN me

 

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Richard Cranium:
Mom? Is that you?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Aaw, c'mon, Dick... Don't be so hard on her. She was young, and needed the money...

 

Dick's mom gave you a blow-job, Lomo?

 

Oh yes, it was wonderful. I even tipped her extra.

 

If it was my mom she gave you more than a blow job.

Better get that thing checked. It may fall off.

 

Shit... makes me wonder if I should've used those mint-flavored rubbers...

 

I-remeber!!!Jokes_are_funny!!!

 

Nursey, you don't know how fucking grateful I am that you brought this thread up.


Oh, LOMO!!!


Fucking bastard.