Is that a bad thing? I like to masturbate... why do I need a woman?
All I need is a computer with my favorite linux distro, an inflatable Tux doll, a cinder block, remote control, a lamp, a broomstick, a stick of butter, 6-pack of PBR (fuck Heinekin) and a cat staring at my genitals.
It was a good day. It was my birthday. I had to take a crap. Badly.
My folks were in town and we were all at the mall. After strolling from store to store looking for that perfect shirt, we settled in at the Gap. And then it happened. It was just a small tremor at first, but quickly gained momentum and became a powerful spasm. My bowels were twisting and quivering as if a 9.4 earthquake were ripping through my intestines. I had to act fast.
Although the excruciating pain was causing my toes to curl, I was able to maintain my composure and casually mention to my parents that a trip to the restroom was now in order. Yes, right now. We leisurely went in search of a men's room while the pressure in my colon continued to build at an alarming rate. The harder I clenched, the higher the pressure rose. It soon became a battle of sheer will. Mind over matter - fecal matter, that is.
As I looked at the happy shoppers milling about, I wondered if any of them could comprehend the magnitude of the war being waged right in front of them. And there it was - like a beacon of hope shining in the darkest night of doom. The Food Court. Certainly my deliverance could not be far now! And, yes, the most beautiful sight my now clouded eyes had ever seen arose before me - The Men's Room.
My heart raced in anticipation. My pace quickened as I left my parents far behind to enter the room where all would be good again. The place where pain would be replaced by intense relief and the pungent, bitter-sweet odor of victory. The echoes from my footsteps on the cold tiles was music to my ears. And, alas, the gods of defecation were smiling upon me this day - I was alone! The entire pleasure palace was mine to command, and mine alone.
I quickly assessed the stall situation and chose the cleanest one. I tore my pants down to my ankles and barely got my boxers away from the pressure release valve before all Hell broke loose. The sounds of my success resounded throughout the Place of Porcelain and I nearly passed out from the intense pressure change within my body cavity. I painted the porcelain like Picasso, using both wide and narrow strokes as I utilized every available color from my pallette of poop. As I lost myself in my strategic plannings of how I could best utilize the available toilet paper on this mess, the hinges of the bathroom door creaked loudly and an unknown form entered my domain. Good timing, I thought, as I finished calculating the number of rools of TP I needed to complete the task at hand.
And then I heard something very puzzling at the far end of The Room. It sounded like a splash of liquid on the floor. Perhaps he spilled a cup of coffee? There it was again. The splash. What the - there it went again - and it was getting closer!!! Splash!!! And now the horrfic scent of bleach filled the air! It had to be the janitor coming to clean the bathroom. SPLASH! Just two stalls down and coming this way!!
I fidgeted, tried to make sounds to let this insane assailant know I was there. SPLASH!! Right next door! I could see the bleach eating through the film of filth on the floor of the stall next to me. I tried to cough but the fear locked my throat. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide!! My eyes widened in sheer terror and my heart nearly exploded from my chest as the cup of bleach entered my Sacred Space with its acrid stink and its burning mass and splashed all over my shoes!!
I was paralyzed. Would I spend the rest of my life here? Is this how it ends? Suddenly a gruff voice interupted my musings with a blunt, "Sorry". It was the janitor who realized what he had done. The Splash now sounded to my left and contined moving away while I put the finishing touches on the paperwork.
As I dressed, I could see the mop head invading the stalls one by one like a crazed rapist and decided it was time to leave. I quickly washed up as the startled Janitor busied himself with his work. I opened the door and the burst of fresh air made my dizzy as I made my way back to my parents.
If you catch me on a good day and I'm feeling extra neighborly, I just may show you the bleach stains on my shoes.....
Slashdot Mirror
with a guy name Mike Hunt! And a girl named Patty O'Furniture!
YOU ARE SO FULL OF SHIT!
Although interesting, it does not answer the question. Now get over here so that I might fill your nasal passages full of sperm.
Hot grits in the morning
Hot grits in the evening
Hot grits at suppertime
Be my little hot grits
And love me all the time
Honey in the morning
Honey in the evening
Honey at suppertime
So by my little honey
And love me all the time
Put your arms around me
And swear by stars above
You'll be mine forever
In a heaven of love
Hot grits in the morning
Hot grits in the evening
Hot grits at suppertime
Be my little hot grits bitch
And love my goat all the time
Now Hot grits time
Is anytime
That you're near
Lemme stick your rear!
So don't you roam
Just be my honeycomb
And live
In a heaven of love.
Hot grits in the morning
Hot grits in the evening
Hot grits at suppertime
Be my little hot grits
And love me all the time
Nothing like making her nose bleed.
I deposited a load of sperm in your mother's nose last night. Is she able to breath today, or do I need to drop by again and "loosen" it up for her?
I agree with this post. But why are you reading this?
HAHAH! You are such a geek!
p.s. put a bullet in your head, please.
Props to you as well! I am a card-carrying member of TITS.
TITS: Trolls In Tandem on Slashdot
I agree with this post.
Because you are not a member of CLIT or TITS.
I agree with this post. The AC's are all actually memebers of ANUS.
I just joined VULVA, that is the best option for the troll who knows what he wants. Membership makes a great Father's Day gift too!
Are you?
TITS: Trolls In Tandem on Slashdot
your kind will be first against the wall.
Yeah, with thier ass facing you.
Let 'er rip boyz! UTM is gonna have some fun with your corn hole today! w00t!
Is that a bad thing? I like to masturbate... why do I need a woman?
All I need is a computer with my favorite linux distro, an inflatable Tux doll, a cinder block, remote control, a lamp, a broomstick, a stick of butter, 6-pack of PBR (fuck Heinekin) and a cat staring at my genitals.
Perhaps some human-size zip lock bags too.
I was a member of Trolls In Tandem on Slashdot (TITS), be we refused to be harnessed in, we needed to be free.
The only clit you have had was your own.
Any time, any place, beaver face.
I have seen methane explode. I had drank a 12 pack of PBR and ate a jar of pickled eggs.
You would not want to have been in the same car as I, and the fireball was immense.
I hope this answered your question.
p.s. I there a way to connect a tube to my ass from the engine? I think I could power my commute to work.
The only thing you could tag is a goat's ass with your penis.
The post remains.
Fuck off and die, you bloody cunt-swab.
If you were a member of CLIT, that first post could have been all yours.
Tempting, eh?
Get it in ya!
I love CLIT!
Are you trying to destroy the CLIT movement? Why put a division among the CLIT brethren?
One for all, and all for CLIT!
It was a good day. It was my birthday. I had to take a crap. Badly.
My folks were in town and we were all at the mall. After strolling from store to store looking for that perfect shirt, we settled in at the Gap. And then it happened. It was just a small tremor at first, but quickly gained momentum and became a powerful spasm. My bowels were twisting and quivering as if a 9.4 earthquake were ripping through my intestines. I had to act fast.
Although the excruciating pain was causing my toes to curl, I was able to maintain my composure and casually mention to my parents that a trip to the restroom was now in order. Yes, right now. We leisurely went in search of a men's room while the pressure in my colon continued to build at an alarming rate. The harder I clenched, the higher the pressure rose. It soon became a battle of sheer will. Mind over matter - fecal matter, that is.
As I looked at the happy shoppers milling about, I wondered if any of them could comprehend the magnitude of the war being waged right in front of them. And there it was - like a beacon of hope shining in the darkest night of doom. The Food Court. Certainly my deliverance could not be far now! And, yes, the most beautiful sight my now clouded eyes had ever seen arose before me - The Men's Room.
My heart raced in anticipation. My pace quickened as I left my parents far behind to enter the room where all would be good again. The place where pain would be replaced by intense relief and the pungent, bitter-sweet odor of victory. The echoes from my footsteps on the cold tiles was music to my ears. And, alas, the gods of defecation were smiling upon me this day - I was alone! The entire pleasure palace was mine to command, and mine alone.
I quickly assessed the stall situation and chose the cleanest one. I tore my pants down to my ankles and barely got my boxers away from the pressure release valve before all Hell broke loose. The sounds of my success resounded throughout the Place of Porcelain and I nearly passed out from the intense pressure change within my body cavity. I painted the porcelain like Picasso, using both wide and narrow strokes as I utilized every available color from my pallette of poop. As I lost myself in my strategic plannings of how I could best utilize the available toilet paper on this mess, the hinges of the bathroom door creaked loudly and an unknown form entered my domain. Good timing, I thought, as I finished calculating the number of rools of TP I needed to complete the task at hand.
And then I heard something very puzzling at the far end of The Room. It sounded like a splash of liquid on the floor. Perhaps he spilled a cup of coffee? There it was again. The splash. What the - there it went again - and it was getting closer!!! Splash!!! And now the horrfic scent of bleach filled the air! It had to be the janitor coming to clean the bathroom. SPLASH! Just two stalls down and coming this way!!
I fidgeted, tried to make sounds to let this insane assailant know I was there. SPLASH!! Right next door! I could see the bleach eating through the film of filth on the floor of the stall next to me. I tried to cough but the fear locked my throat. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide!! My eyes widened in sheer terror and my heart nearly exploded from my chest as the cup of bleach entered my Sacred Space with its acrid stink and its burning mass and splashed all over my shoes!!
I was paralyzed. Would I spend the rest of my life here? Is this how it ends? Suddenly a gruff voice interupted my musings with a blunt, "Sorry". It was the janitor who realized what he had done. The Splash now sounded to my left and contined moving away while I put the finishing touches on the paperwork.
As I dressed, I could see the mop head invading the stalls one by one like a crazed rapist and decided it was time to leave. I quickly washed up as the startled Janitor busied himself with his work. I opened the door and the burst of fresh air made my dizzy as I made my way back to my parents.
If you catch me on a good day and I'm feeling extra neighborly, I just may show you the bleach stains on my shoes.....
You got that right, she looks like a fucking skank.
You are a furst p0st mutha!
Preach on my brotha!