random thought..
i still think customers suck
fucking idiots!
i still think customers suck
fucking idiots!
"What you took from me was mine."
Walking through the park, I gazed mindlessly at the blue sky. Some dark clouds were forming to the East, growing in size by pulling the fluffy, happy, white clouds towards them and corrupting them with their touch. When this conquest was completed, the sun was blotted out, casting a shadow over the path I was walking down. When the darkness was fairly complete the forest I was in took on an altogether more sinister feel. The trees's leafless braches were tense, as though they would impale the next squirrel that scampered along them on their spearlike points. They gathered in much denser areas than they should around the path, making navigating through them much harder than it should have been.
"Something I would never give."
A branch stabbed me in the side, just below the ribcage, and instinctively I grabbed it with both hands and snapped it, so that the next person down the path would not have to. Even as I tossed the limb aside, the tree had already begun wreaking its veangeance on me. A branch slammed into by back, rattling my spine and sending my body rolling to the ground. I tried fighting back with my axe, but got one blow off on its trunk before its deft twigs plucked the axe from my hand, and then plucked my hand from my wrist. I decided getting away, while it was still possible, was probably the best course of action.
"Your fire is not the cure to my ice."
Disoriented from excess of pain and lack of blood, I stumbled into my kitchen and began using the stove's element to cauterize what was left of my right arm. The tree had nearly followed me there, but Alize had distracted it with a newborn boar before finishing it off with her shotgun. After that she caught me before I broke my knee on the kitchen floor; I owe her quite a bit in retrospect. Next comes a daze that my eyes would not focus through... I can only assume Alize carried me to an extremely comfortable chair, which I woke up in, before cleaning my blood off of the element and using it to make me soup, which was on the table when I awoke. Or perhaps it was for her, as she knows I can't stand mushrooms, but they were most definitely in the soup. Either way I drank it.
"Blood will not wash off blood, no matter how much soap you use."
The next thing I remember Alize had the most heart-wrenchingly betrayed look in her eyes...
"Nothing really happened here, but..."
She was on her knees, her clothes were torn, the blood from her eyesockets was mingling with her pink hair, liquifying it and letting it drip to the floor in front of her. I remember thinking of her as a bloodied, crippled shadow of a human, or if I were more poetic perhaps I would have made a better metaphor, like falling angel.
"Mankind's greatest flaw, this time around."
...or at least she would have, if they were not resting in my palm at that moment. I expected them to try to squirm, to return to their owner, but instead they were lifeless; parasites that had been violently seperated from their host. Some sort of curse fought its way up through the blood in Alize's throat before she fell onto the ground, shivering once before laying still forever. I found her shotgun behind the stool I was sitting at. The last thing I remember was that pulling the trigger was simpler and less painful than solving my problems.
Walking through the park, I gazed mindlessly at the blue sky. Some dark clouds were forming to the East, growing in size by pulling the fluffy, happy, white clouds towards them and corrupting them with their touch. When this conquest was completed, the sun was blotted out, casting a shadow over the path I was walking down. When the darkness was fairly complete the forest I was in took on an altogether more sinister feel. The trees's leafless braches were tense, as though they would impale the next squirrel that scampered along them on their spearlike points. They gathered in much denser areas than they should around the path, making navigating through them much harder than it should have been.
"Something I would never give."
A branch stabbed me in the side, just below the ribcage, and instinctively I grabbed it with both hands and snapped it, so that the next person down the path would not have to. Even as I tossed the limb aside, the tree had already begun wreaking its veangeance on me. A branch slammed into by back, rattling my spine and sending my body rolling to the ground. I tried fighting back with my axe, but got one blow off on its trunk before its deft twigs plucked the axe from my hand, and then plucked my hand from my wrist. I decided getting away, while it was still possible, was probably the best course of action.
"Your fire is not the cure to my ice."
Disoriented from excess of pain and lack of blood, I stumbled into my kitchen and began using the stove's element to cauterize what was left of my right arm. The tree had nearly followed me there, but Alize had distracted it with a newborn boar before finishing it off with her shotgun. After that she caught me before I broke my knee on the kitchen floor; I owe her quite a bit in retrospect. Next comes a daze that my eyes would not focus through... I can only assume Alize carried me to an extremely comfortable chair, which I woke up in, before cleaning my blood off of the element and using it to make me soup, which was on the table when I awoke. Or perhaps it was for her, as she knows I can't stand mushrooms, but they were most definitely in the soup. Either way I drank it.
"Blood will not wash off blood, no matter how much soap you use."
The next thing I remember Alize had the most heart-wrenchingly betrayed look in her eyes...
"Nothing really happened here, but..."
She was on her knees, her clothes were torn, the blood from her eyesockets was mingling with her pink hair, liquifying it and letting it drip to the floor in front of her. I remember thinking of her as a bloodied, crippled shadow of a human, or if I were more poetic perhaps I would have made a better metaphor, like falling angel.
"Mankind's greatest flaw, this time around."
...or at least she would have, if they were not resting in my palm at that moment. I expected them to try to squirm, to return to their owner, but instead they were lifeless; parasites that had been violently seperated from their host. Some sort of curse fought its way up through the blood in Alize's throat before she fell onto the ground, shivering once before laying still forever. I found her shotgun behind the stool I was sitting at. The last thing I remember was that pulling the trigger was simpler and less painful than solving my problems.
http://www.myspace.com/bogofwog
http://www.rateyourmusic.com/~wogbog
"The irony of metal is that... WE LOVE YOU" -Devin Townsend
http://www.rateyourmusic.com/~wogbog
"The irony of metal is that... WE LOVE YOU" -Devin Townsend
Fuck. I have no social life. Three days in a row I'm just sitting in my home. This really sucks.
sj_2150 wrote:http://cgi.ebay.com.au/Fender-Stratocaster-Air-Guitar-Used-By-Jimi-Hendrix_W0QQitemZ110004214461QQihZ001QQcategoryZ33039QQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem
That term, "air guitar", is a bit confusing there. I have shitloads of air guitars to sell.
M-e-e-e-e-e-e-t-a-a-a-a-a-a-l
Goat wrote:Dogs are perverts! They have very sensitive smell that immediately detects the "right" hormones in other dog's piss. So why the fuck do they spend SO MUCH TIME sniffing piss? They obviously get some kick out of it, so dogs are fucking perverts.And they lick their balls and fuck peoples legs all the time. In public.
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