"ok everybody, ok, ok, ok, let's just be level-headed here... if we burn him first then we miss out on the disemboweling and I know nobody wants to leave here without some disemboweling of Chinese-Pakistani pseudo-Marxists vegan guerrillas. Demons descended down the cataracts to kidnap the young philosopher, who, like Descartes before him, could never determine if the phantoms were real or merely opiate-induced hallucinations. He tried to bargain with them. "Hey, trippy shit, I'll trade you this cat with feline leukemia for a KFC double down. " The hallucinations were like "aw, fuck that, KFC's expensive. Want same crack? I got that." crack'll make you shit 'cho self 'n make you think the moon is falling on your soul. But fuck that, crack's whack. "What I got in this bag's better than that," he whispered suddenly to the alien broad he was trying to seduce, but he had bigger fish to fry right now becasue he realized that her sexiest orifice might also be the most taboo" according to Freud, who fondled himself with the detached hand of his mother's corpse (he had cleverly switched her body with that of a streetwalker) "You guys remember the Questia online library?" NostalgicNerd1994 IM'd his buddy in Clear Lake He was all like "Andrew W. K. gets me so fucked up. I just can't help it. " And I was like dude man bro, I KNOW!" Then I blocked him 'cause he's a fucking asshole. Sentient beings made of liquid light congealed me onto their ship, dissected my scrotum, and told me it was a perfect specimen of the human race. I never got it back, and that said great great grandfather, is the story of the most intellectually stimulating rimjob I ever received.

Due to the dangerously unexpected and unseasonal moonquakes here in Topeka we are recommending violent suicide to all those still in the area, here at Channel 5. But now we cut to Africa, were it appears Mufasa has been severely injured after being ass-raped by baboons a-babbling, hyenas high on hash, and gorillas. A lot of them. What the fuck, Africa. Subsaharan bullshit, bro. There was also a badger and his name was Rodney. He was an asshole, but seriously, don't hold that against him. He had quite a great killing spree, with all the right pulp and puss and semen you would expect from such a cold hearted display. He won the mother-fucking gold medal, fool. Later that day at the laundromat he was showing it off but was overshadowed by the recent introduction of an extreme fabric softner developed by Rockstar energy drinks, complete with 11 grams of caffeine. Most of us younger folks can't wait for ou older folks to die. Painful shit!! Razorblades and acid. Then we'll legalize and mandate universal prostitution. An economy of exchanging bodily fluids and disease. Life expectancy would go down, increasing resources per capita. Robespierre was just misguided. Misguided like Chris Columbus. Misguided like two handles of everclear and a vat of acid. Think about that, a vat of acid. That's a fucking shitload of acid, dude. Blue majestic squid party hard with college football football ions, The electrons occupy empty space in such a way that even MOTHER FUCKING ALLAH MUST BOW DOWN and praise the idols of Hasselhoff he keeps in his closet.

masses of ungulate limbs sprout from the ground swaying like stands of meaty bamboo or cattails beside a pond, the lions graze slowly upon them as they writhe with futile motions towards an impotent sun. The two nuns kissed under the ferns. Lester drew a sword "Tis once to die, but twice to jack off a sky-screaming narwhal." Just then they heard a knock at the door, "LAPD, open up" moaned the somebody outside with the sound of dripping saliva on their lips, poorly concealed, the door breaks down and the salivating cop has me at the point of a fork and knife seeing as how the newly republican House of Reps recently approved cannibalism in raids where over a half-gram of weed was projected to be discovered BUT THAT'S JUST WHAT THEY'RE FUCKING ORDERED TO TELL YOU ON CABLE TV Here's the real story. Meet Quandon. He's 32, has two kids and a mortgage and is a card-carrying member of the Libertarian Party. His life is about to the ruined by his love for games of hard-core strip Parcheesi and unlimited cocaine flavored soft serve from the local TCBY. Not as good as a queer burger, but certainly more addictive, like the venomous temptations of a snake to strangle a baby dolphin. The power of analogy, analogism, anal-o-logic. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. "Crush my neck, Daddy, Come closer." and as he drew closer he noticed, etched on his head an impossibly small, but comprehensive replica of 18th century Dublin.