I couldn't agree more. Now, more than ever, when a pitiful band mounts an effort in the common good, they are lured and manipulated into tools of the machinations of the very establishment they seek to undermine. Why are college students being sued by the RIAA? Because the RIAA is bent over a barrel by the music retailers. It's Wal-Mart and Tower Records that want to see online music dead, because it threatens their profits. And the record companies keep them happy because they rely on the stores to promote their music. It's just like P2P is the rebel alliance, the RIAA is Darth Vader, and the record stores are the Emperor. It is most definitely a trap!!!
coed.jpg: who is swarren@houstonisd.org and why the hell are they leaking my no-spam e-mail address with their fucking virus
Dr. Cockulus: sorry. that's me
coed.jpg: ass
Dr. Cockulus: i actually wrote that virus
coed.jpg: get a real computer dammit
Dr. Cockulus: and hard coded that email address into it.
Dr. Cockulus: on accident
coed.jpg: look i said i was sorry for posting that picture of you spreading your anus to slashdot... but that was before you got Sprint. I mis-heard what you said
Dr. Cockulus: [looks annoyed as he clicks his mouse to close a computer image of a man in an old fashioned robber's outfit carrying a 10 pound block of cheese and chased by an anteater] "i said 'post the image of the caper.'"
Is it really a sprinkle of magic? Or is is a RAIN OF TERROR?
You play it safe with your true-blue boxes, but let me tell you. Inside the post office is a whole other world. Nobody is safe. Tell me you feel comfortable when the clerk stares you down coldly while throwing your expensive laserdisc player on the ground and motioning for his cohort to park a forklift on it, and I'll tell you that you're as evil as they are. Their eyes don't move while they print our your postage stickers. Their face is frozen in gray, pasty lack of emotion while they tell you "This isn't the form you fill out to get insurance. Get the right one and get back in line. Next." Their souls are icy and unmoving.
In the back, the part you DON'T see, the weapons are not of mass destruction, but the carcasses of once-healthy shipments are testament to the damage that is as well-hidden from the rest of the world as any Iraqi WMD. Ripped boxes, shattered electronics, trampled gifts from Grandma in Florida, mutilated rare finds on eBay. It's a death bed back there. Why do you think there's no way to get from the front of the building to the back? Why do you think they put all the barriers up between you and your mail? For efficiency and automation? Hardly. You're waiting in line for death. And you don't even have to take a number.
The USPS filed suit because they know that each and every post office is a steaming, frothy cauldron of bitterness and contempt. Games like Postal make it seem like a joke, but to them it's serious... DEADLY serious. This ruling is only bad news for postal customers worldwide... don't think they aren't paying *close* attention. This is not the end of the battle. It's the start of a war.
PICARD Mr. LaForge, what's the status on the reverse-flux inverter power couplings?
LAFORGE Captain, I'm about to complete the upgrade from 2.0 version 2 to 2.0 version 1. But I gotta tell you, these thrusters will never reach Full Speed if we connect any low-power shields to the system! I mean, Hi-Speed! I mean... hold on a second, captain, I have to check the FAQ.
PICARD Number One, give me a status report on those low-power shields!
NUMBER ONE Captain, they're holding, but they need stronger throughput if we're going to fend off the attacks of that Klingon fighter! They seem to be using a new cloaking device, but it's no different than the old one! Sensors indicate a new system, but the performance is the same! I don't understand!
PICARD Damn! What the hell is going on here? Mr. Data, lay in a course for the other side of that star system, Full Speed ahead!
DATA Captain, are you sure you can outrun that Klingon fighter at Full Speed? I suggest a Hi-Speed approach!
LAFORGE Captain, we're losing power! The ship's main computer is bogged down by the polling of the starboard engines on the low power bus, the photon torpedoes aren't getting the power they need in time!
PICARD Dammit! Data, Hi Speed ahead! Laforge! I want everything off of the slow high speed low speed bus! Number one! Prepare a high speed assault on the USB committee! I mean a full speed assault! Aaggggh!!
Either that, or you're fucking stupid. Either way, you managed to waste 40 seconds of my life. I'm ill, goddammit, I could die at any moment. And this is the shit I have to look at in the last waning hours of my life.
Just plug your ADB mouse into your twat, you ignorant slut.
I'm a dog who eats meat.
Meat that's mixed with shit!
Enchirito Grande!
Graaaaaa-ayayayde K meat!
(Fecal soy-beef!)
Crap that even dogs won't eat!
(Nachos BellGrande!)
Makes your heart no longer beat!
(Cardio-Rito)
Feed my ass!
(My fucking huge-ass)
BUTT!
That morons like this get to send shit like this to slashdot and the dumbfuck editors actually post it without a thought to the validity or even plausibility of the content doesn't even outrage me anymore. i'm beginning to wonder why, why oh god why, do i keep reading these entire posts? why am I too weak to saw off my own neck with a meat slicer? would it do any good anyway? option-a a, option-n n, option-e e, it's so fucking easy, i couldn't pull the trigger on a shotgun aimed at your brain to make it any more plain.
"Time Bonus! (Ballad of the Skipjack Tuna)" Available on the compilation album "The Line's Gonna Breakdance: A Sega Marine Fishing Tribute"
(to the tune of "My Sharona," The Knack)
Oooh my skipjack tuna fish, tuna fish,
when you gonna give me a TIME bo-Onus?
Will you bite my fishing lure, fishing lure,
twitching at the end of my LINE, time-BOnus?
Never gonna stop, don't give up, but don't break the line!
Always get it up, in the boat, with some bonus time!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
Look, a lipless minnow! Mmm, it looks good!
Come and get it, give me a TIME bo-Onus!
Beat the barracuda out, get it first!
Don't you let him fuck up my TIME bo-Onus!
Never gonna stop, don't give up, look "I'm getting good!"
Now I've got "great action" with my new Sega fishing rod!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
When you gonna speak to me? Speak to me!
Say the magic words on your mind: "Time-BOnus!"
When I lift you from the deck, from the deck
Mutter for the very last time, "Time-BOnus!"
Never gonna stop, don't give up, but don't break the line!
Always get it up, in the boat, with some bonus time!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
When you want to get away from it all
on
Digital Lifestyle
·
· Score: -1
"Time Bonus! (Ballad of the Skipjack Tuna)" Available on the compilation album "The Line's Gonna Breakdance: A Sega Marine Fishing Tribute"
(to the tune of "My Sharona," The Knack)
Oooh my skipjack tuna fish, tuna fish,
when you gonna give me a TIME bo-Onus?
Will you bite my fishing lure, fishing lure,
twitching at the end of my LINE, time-BOnus?
Never gonna stop, don't give up, but don't break the line!
Always get it up, in the boat, with some bonus time!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
Look, a lipless minnow! Mmm, it looks good!
Come and get it, give me a TIME bo-Onus!
Beat the barracuda out, get it first!
Don't you let him fuck up my TIME bo-Onus!
Never gonna stop, don't give up, look "I'm getting good!"
Now I've got "great action" with my new Sega fishing rod!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
When you gonna speak to me? Speak to me!
Say the magic words on your mind: "Time-BOnus!"
When I lift you from the deck, from the deck
Mutter for the very last time, "Time-BOnus!"
Never gonna stop, don't give up, but don't break the line!
Always get it up, in the boat, with some bonus time!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
Actually, a survey recently reported that there are two types of chess players: those who masturbate compulsively, and those who lied on the survey. I think you happen to be one of the latter group.
Don't try to lie. I know. I was there, on your hard drive, right next to all the pictures of girls in leather strapped down to a coffee table, all the movies of women melting candles onto each other's tits, hardening it with ice-water, and then flaking it off with their teeth, and one or two images I don't think I can describe here in front of mixed company. Let's just say they depict, in graphic detail, men eating other men's feces. Now I'm not one to pass judgment, I'm just trying to lay the groundwork for my position here: of COURSE chess players are paranoid thrill seekers. Look at what's on their hard drives!
The paranoia, of course, comes from constantly glancing over their shoulder while their mouse is in one hand and their dick is in the other. They just got back from their chess federation meeting (at which they were commended an "expert" title!), and they want to unwind with a little super-kink. They fire up their X-files fanfic audio porn to get warmed up, but they have their headphones on so they can't hear if their mom is at the door, so they get in the habit of furtively glancing behind them to see who might be there.
Once they get the audio porn going, they break out the aforementioned images. Here's where the pants start slipping down. The heart starts racing as they feel their penis stiffening... and as they feel their penis. Just to pretend they're not totally perverted, they start off easy with some pictures of girls stripping or diddling themselves. But it doesn't take long for them to dive into that "special directory" where they keep the really dark stuff.
Now, I'm not making all this up. I've been there and seen it all. I mean, I am on the hard drive, next to all of this as it's going on. It's really kind of scary. I don't enjoy recounting this to you all, but I feel like it's information worth having.
Because once they get to the dark stuff, then you see the thrill seeker come out. Mutilations, defecation, all sorts of things well up from deep inside their trapped and isolated fantasies. Once, they were innocent, it's true. They just wanted to find a way to hide from the football players and cheerleaders who made fun of them at school... and the chess club seemed to be a safe haven. But the more they withdrew from society, the wider their horizons seemed to span. Because once you cross one line, there's nothing to stop you from crossing the others. The thrill-seeker is born, and he thrives in the secrecy of his bedroom adorned with Star Trek paraphernalia and computer components. But with this new birth of the thrill-seeker, the compulsive masturbator, the deviant pervert, comes the alter-ego: the mild-mannered personality, the awkward teenager, the paranoid geek.
I've seen it happen before, and it'll happen again. It's happening right now... how many of you just got through jacking off? How many of you will jack off momentarily?
Of course chess players are paranoid thrill-seekers. Its the only way they survive.
Microsoft is not on pot. Coke, maybe, but they're way too "un-mellow'" to be stoners.
They're more of the "evil cokehead" type, who go around snorting coke of asses like my own and then waging a violent rampage through the city, beating homeless people to death and raping small animals. Then they get in their Benz and scream through the streets, muttering to themselves "I'll kill that motherfucker" until they arrive at Larry Ellison's driveway gate.
Having forgotten the code, they smash through the bars and wreck the Benz in the fountain on Ellison's back porch. Then they storm into Larry's garden party waving a Glock 9, bleeding at the nose, and demanding to know "Why did you fuck me, Larry? I just want to know, why did you fuck me? Do I look like some kind of bitch to you, is that it? Am I your little bitch? Is that it, Larry?"
Larry, of course, will then say "Look Microsoft, you fucked us. We were getting along all right, and you had to fuck it up with all your exclusive licensing agreements. What was all that about, Microsoft? You going behind my back? We were friends, Microsoft! And now I have to sleep with Apple just to get my nuts off. You fucked ME, Microsoft."
Then, with an almost imperceptible sideways nod of the head, Larry summons six large hispanic gentlemen in tasteful all-black suits, who surround Microsoft and bring him to the ground. A gunshot is fired, and the crowd at the party ducks, but Larry just takes another slow drag on his cigarette as he drinks in the sight of Microsoft's bleeding and broken body for one last, lingering moment, before turning around, tossing his cigarette on the ground, and stamping it out as he walks back to the bar.
The next day, over his morning champagne, Larry saw a story in the paper about a software company found dead on some rocks off the PCH. Authorities were still investigating, but initial reports suggest that the company died when its car, going in excess of 170 mph, left the roadway and crashed into a culvert. An autopsy revealed large amounts of cocaine in its system, along with a BAL of over 7%. But Larry wasn't concerned. he just tossed the paper back on the table, sipped his champagne, and strolled out to the water across his private beach to join the ladies frolicking naked in the crystal water.
See now? The story would TOTALLY be different if Microsoft was on POT instead of COKE.
In fact, I remember the first time I, myself, was released officially on CD. I was one of the frontrunning products featuring "Multimedia PC" technology. Oh, the hours I've spent staring at 7th-graders jacking off to my luscious tits rendered in 256 colors on a 14" display.
Those were the glory days of net porn, before banner ads caught on, before pop-up windows interrupted masturbation, before high-bandwidth enabled pimply pornomaniacs to crowd the newsgroups with endless reposts of my succulent form. I was appreciated, even respected. A milestone in online pornography, along with grainyblowjob.mov (which debuted on a Macintosh Plus) and of course Generic Made-With-Macromedia 8-bit Strip Poker.
Bringing a TI-58 programmable dildo home from work to play with--I got some very weird looks.
1979, the first PET and TRS-80 personal dildos were in the shops, but hardly anybody was buying, and dildos were expensive things in big air conditioned rooms with noisy dildos and reel-to-reel dildo decks, and ours had a cool vector scan dildos that did screen prints to expensive, glossy thermal dildos.
Our fax machine had a spinning dildo that you wrapped an A4 sheet around. The thing spun for twenty minutes whilst what was probably a single dildo scanned it in a corkscrew pattern and sent the bits through a dildo coupler.
Engineers, we all possessed dildos, and used them every day.
"Flashpants (What a feeling)" (To the tune of "Flashdance (What a Feeling)," Irene Cara)
Late, when there's nothing but a dim glowing screen
That displays what you hide deep inside your drive
All alone in the night, with your hand gripping tight
and your cock stiff as steel, hard as stone
Well I feel my pussy, close my eyes, pinch my nipples
Wrap around, take a hold, of your cock!
What a feeling! Penis greasing!
You can see it all and I'm younger than your wife!
Take your pants off! And get your nuts off!
Pictures come alive when you come into your eye!
Now my tits are perky, rub my clit, spread my pussy
In a flash, you take hold of your cock!
What a feeling! Fiendish beating!
Keep your Lubriderm and your tissues standing by!
Pull your pants down! And make the saints frown!
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling!
What a feeling (You are horny now)
Penis greasing (Look at porno now)
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling (You can really see it all)
What a feeling (etc.)
"Flashpants (What a feeling)" (To the tune of "Flashdance (What a Feeling)," Irene Cara)
Late, when there's nothing but a dim glowing screen
That displays what you hide deep inside your drive
All alone in the night, with your hand gripping tight
and your cock stiff as steel, hard as stone
Well I feel my pussy, close my eyes, pinch my nipples
Wrap around, take a hold, of your cock!
What a feeling! Penis greasing!
You can see it all and I'm younger than your wife!
Take your pants off! And get your nuts off!
Pictures come alive when you come into your eye!
Now my tits are perky, rub my clit, spread my pussy
In a flash, you take hold of your cock!
What a feeling! Fiendish beating!
Keep your Lubriderm and your tissues standing by!
Pull your pants down! And make the saints frown!
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling!
What a feeling (You are horny now)
Penis greasing (Look at porno now)
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling (You can really see it all)
What a feeling (etc.)
"Flashpants (What a feeling)" (To the tune of "Flashdance (What a Feeling)," Irene Cara)
Late, when there's nothing but a dim glowing screen
That displays what you hide deep inside your drive
All alone in the night, with your hand gripping tight
and your cock stiff as steel, hard as stone
Well I feel my pussy, close my eyes, pinch my nipples
Wrap around, take a hold, of your cock!
What a feeling! Penis greasing!
You can see it all and I'm younger than your wife!
Take your pants off! And get your nuts off!
Pictures come alive when you come into your eye!
Now my tits are perky, rub my clit, spread my pussy
In a flash, you take hold of your cock!
What a feeling! Fiendish beating!
Keep your Lubriderm and your tissues standing by!
Pull your pants down! And make the saints frown!
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling!
What a feeling (You are horny now)
Penis greasing (Look at porno now)
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling (You can really see it all)
What a feeling (etc.)
Slashdot Mirror
I couldn't agree more. Now, more than ever, when a pitiful band mounts an effort in the common good, they are lured and manipulated into tools of the machinations of the very establishment they seek to undermine. Why are college students being sued by the RIAA? Because the RIAA is bent over a barrel by the music retailers. It's Wal-Mart and Tower Records that want to see online music dead, because it threatens their profits. And the record companies keep them happy because they rely on the stores to promote their music. It's just like P2P is the rebel alliance, the RIAA is Darth Vader, and the record stores are the Emperor. It is most definitely a trap!!!
coed.jpg: who is swarren@houstonisd.org and why the hell are they leaking my no-spam e-mail address with their fucking virus
Dr. Cockulus: sorry. that's me
coed.jpg: ass
Dr. Cockulus: i actually wrote that virus
coed.jpg: get a real computer dammit
Dr. Cockulus: and hard coded that email address into it.
Dr. Cockulus: on accident
coed.jpg: look i said i was sorry for posting that picture of you spreading your anus to slashdot... but that was before you got Sprint. I mis-heard what you said
Dr. Cockulus: [looks annoyed as he clicks his mouse to close a computer image of a man in an old fashioned robber's outfit carrying a 10 pound block of cheese and chased by an anteater] "i said 'post the image of the caper.'"
It's so simple... I just can't see why it hasn't been implemented.
Is it really a sprinkle of magic? Or is is a RAIN OF TERROR?
You play it safe with your true-blue boxes, but let me tell you. Inside the post office is a whole other world. Nobody is safe. Tell me you feel comfortable when the clerk stares you down coldly while throwing your expensive laserdisc player on the ground and motioning for his cohort to park a forklift on it, and I'll tell you that you're as evil as they are. Their eyes don't move while they print our your postage stickers. Their face is frozen in gray, pasty lack of emotion while they tell you "This isn't the form you fill out to get insurance. Get the right one and get back in line. Next." Their souls are icy and unmoving.
In the back, the part you DON'T see, the weapons are not of mass destruction, but the carcasses of once-healthy shipments are testament to the damage that is as well-hidden from the rest of the world as any Iraqi WMD. Ripped boxes, shattered electronics, trampled gifts from Grandma in Florida, mutilated rare finds on eBay. It's a death bed back there. Why do you think there's no way to get from the front of the building to the back? Why do you think they put all the barriers up between you and your mail? For efficiency and automation? Hardly. You're waiting in line for death. And you don't even have to take a number.
The USPS filed suit because they know that each and every post office is a steaming, frothy cauldron of bitterness and contempt. Games like Postal make it seem like a joke, but to them it's serious... DEADLY serious. This ruling is only bad news for postal customers worldwide... don't think they aren't paying *close* attention. This is not the end of the battle. It's the start of a war.
Captain Picard on the Bridge:
PICARD
Mr. LaForge, what's the status on the reverse-flux inverter power couplings?
LAFORGE
Captain, I'm about to complete the upgrade from 2.0 version 2 to 2.0 version 1. But I gotta tell you, these thrusters will never reach Full Speed if we connect any low-power shields to the system! I mean, Hi-Speed! I mean... hold on a second, captain, I have to check the FAQ.
PICARD
Number One, give me a status report on those low-power shields!
NUMBER ONE
Captain, they're holding, but they need stronger throughput if we're going to fend off the attacks of that Klingon fighter! They seem to be using a new cloaking device, but it's no different than the old one! Sensors indicate a new system, but the performance is the same! I don't understand!
PICARD
Damn! What the hell is going on here? Mr. Data, lay in a course for the other side of that star system, Full Speed ahead!
DATA
Captain, are you sure you can outrun that Klingon fighter at Full Speed? I suggest a Hi-Speed approach!
LAFORGE
Captain, we're losing power! The ship's main computer is bogged down by the polling of the starboard engines on the low power bus, the photon torpedoes aren't getting the power they need in time!
PICARD
Dammit! Data, Hi Speed ahead! Laforge! I want everything off of the slow high speed low speed bus! Number one! Prepare a high speed assault on the USB committee! I mean a full speed assault! Aaggggh!!
CUT TO Klingon bridge
KLINGON CAPTAIN
OOgijh MIQtaxxxxxxxxxxkggg, KKtgUY'U ggghJIk'TAGKKS Firewire!!!
Worst. Troll. Ever.
Either that, or you're fucking stupid. Either way, you managed to waste 40 seconds of my life. I'm ill, goddammit, I could die at any moment. And this is the shit I have to look at in the last waning hours of my life.
Just plug your ADB mouse into your twat, you ignorant slut.
Too bad the gun industry isn't like the computer industry.
BLAM
Thanks a lot, spymac. You fucks.
"Feed my Ass (Jack in the Box)"
(To the tune of "Man in the Box" by Alice in Chains)
Ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ow.
Ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ow.
I like Jack in the Box
Orderin' some shit
Won't you Jumbo-size it?
(Fries, yeah...)
Feed my ass!
(Potato wedges!)
Jumbo seasoned curly fries!
(Deny the veggies!)
Eat anything that's fried!
(The greasy dredges!)
Feed my ass!
(My veins are closing!)
SHUT!
Ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ow.
Ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ow.
I'm a dog who eats meat.
Meat that's mixed with shit!
Enchirito Grande!
Graaaaaa-ayayayde K meat!
(Fecal soy-beef!)
Crap that even dogs won't eat!
(Nachos BellGrande!)
Makes your heart no longer beat!
(Cardio-Rito)
Feed my ass!
(My fucking huge-ass)
BUTT!
Ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ow.
Ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ow.
IT'S A TRAP!!!!!!
It can't be? You were dead???
Toupee!!
Look at all those words! He's not an elitist, he's just too smart for everyone!
That morons like this get to send shit like this to slashdot and the dumbfuck editors actually post it without a thought to the validity or even plausibility of the content doesn't even outrage me anymore. i'm beginning to wonder why, why oh god why, do i keep reading these entire posts? why am I too weak to saw off my own neck with a meat slicer? would it do any good anyway? option-a a, option-n n, option-e e, it's so fucking easy, i couldn't pull the trigger on a shotgun aimed at your brain to make it any more plain.
the LORD has forsaken me
I can't believe I read this whole fucking thread. It's definitely time to end my life for jesus.
And I don't give a shit about USB 2.0.
Yes, but will it play:
"Time Bonus! (Ballad of the Skipjack Tuna)"
Available on the compilation album "The Line's Gonna Breakdance: A Sega Marine Fishing Tribute"
(to the tune of "My Sharona," The Knack)
Oooh my skipjack tuna fish, tuna fish,
when you gonna give me a TIME bo-Onus?
Will you bite my fishing lure, fishing lure,
twitching at the end of my LINE, time-BOnus?
Never gonna stop, don't give up, but don't break the line!
Always get it up, in the boat, with some bonus time!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
Look, a lipless minnow! Mmm, it looks good!
Come and get it, give me a TIME bo-Onus!
Beat the barracuda out, get it first!
Don't you let him fuck up my TIME bo-Onus!
Never gonna stop, don't give up, look "I'm getting good!"
Now I've got "great action" with my new Sega fishing rod!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
When you gonna speak to me? Speak to me!
Say the magic words on your mind: "Time-BOnus!"
When I lift you from the deck, from the deck
Mutter for the very last time, "Time-BOnus!"
Never gonna stop, don't give up, but don't break the line!
Always get it up, in the boat, with some bonus time!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
"Time Bonus! (Ballad of the Skipjack Tuna)"
Available on the compilation album "The Line's Gonna Breakdance: A Sega Marine Fishing Tribute"
(to the tune of "My Sharona," The Knack)
Oooh my skipjack tuna fish, tuna fish,
when you gonna give me a TIME bo-Onus?
Will you bite my fishing lure, fishing lure,
twitching at the end of my LINE, time-BOnus?
Never gonna stop, don't give up, but don't break the line!
Always get it up, in the boat, with some bonus time!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
Look, a lipless minnow! Mmm, it looks good!
Come and get it, give me a TIME bo-Onus!
Beat the barracuda out, get it first!
Don't you let him fuck up my TIME bo-Onus!
Never gonna stop, don't give up, look "I'm getting good!"
Now I've got "great action" with my new Sega fishing rod!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
When you gonna speak to me? Speak to me!
Say the magic words on your mind: "Time-BOnus!"
When I lift you from the deck, from the deck
Mutter for the very last time, "Time-BOnus!"
Never gonna stop, don't give up, but don't break the line!
Always get it up, in the boat, with some bonus time!
(TIME! TIME! TIME! TIME!)
T-T-T-Time bo-Onus!
Actually, a survey recently reported that there are two types of chess players: those who masturbate compulsively, and those who lied on the survey. I think you happen to be one of the latter group.
Don't try to lie. I know. I was there, on your hard drive, right next to all the pictures of girls in leather strapped down to a coffee table, all the movies of women melting candles onto each other's tits, hardening it with ice-water, and then flaking it off with their teeth, and one or two images I don't think I can describe here in front of mixed company. Let's just say they depict, in graphic detail, men eating other men's feces. Now I'm not one to pass judgment, I'm just trying to lay the groundwork for my position here: of COURSE chess players are paranoid thrill seekers. Look at what's on their hard drives!
The paranoia, of course, comes from constantly glancing over their shoulder while their mouse is in one hand and their dick is in the other. They just got back from their chess federation meeting (at which they were commended an "expert" title!), and they want to unwind with a little super-kink. They fire up their X-files fanfic audio porn to get warmed up, but they have their headphones on so they can't hear if their mom is at the door, so they get in the habit of furtively glancing behind them to see who might be there.
Once they get the audio porn going, they break out the aforementioned images. Here's where the pants start slipping down. The heart starts racing as they feel their penis stiffening... and as they feel their penis. Just to pretend they're not totally perverted, they start off easy with some pictures of girls stripping or diddling themselves. But it doesn't take long for them to dive into that "special directory" where they keep the really dark stuff.
Now, I'm not making all this up. I've been there and seen it all. I mean, I am on the hard drive, next to all of this as it's going on. It's really kind of scary. I don't enjoy recounting this to you all, but I feel like it's information worth having.
Because once they get to the dark stuff, then you see the thrill seeker come out. Mutilations, defecation, all sorts of things well up from deep inside their trapped and isolated fantasies. Once, they were innocent, it's true. They just wanted to find a way to hide from the football players and cheerleaders who made fun of them at school... and the chess club seemed to be a safe haven. But the more they withdrew from society, the wider their horizons seemed to span. Because once you cross one line, there's nothing to stop you from crossing the others. The thrill-seeker is born, and he thrives in the secrecy of his bedroom adorned with Star Trek paraphernalia and computer components. But with this new birth of the thrill-seeker, the compulsive masturbator, the deviant pervert, comes the alter-ego: the mild-mannered personality, the awkward teenager, the paranoid geek.
I've seen it happen before, and it'll happen again. It's happening right now... how many of you just got through jacking off? How many of you will jack off momentarily?
Of course chess players are paranoid thrill-seekers. Its the only way they survive.
They're more of the "evil cokehead" type, who go around snorting coke of asses like my own and then waging a violent rampage through the city, beating homeless people to death and raping small animals. Then they get in their Benz and scream through the streets, muttering to themselves "I'll kill that motherfucker" until they arrive at Larry Ellison's driveway gate.
Having forgotten the code, they smash through the bars and wreck the Benz in the fountain on Ellison's back porch. Then they storm into Larry's garden party waving a Glock 9, bleeding at the nose, and demanding to know "Why did you fuck me, Larry? I just want to know, why did you fuck me? Do I look like some kind of bitch to you, is that it? Am I your little bitch? Is that it, Larry?"
Larry, of course, will then say "Look Microsoft, you fucked us. We were getting along all right, and you had to fuck it up with all your exclusive licensing agreements. What was all that about, Microsoft? You going behind my back? We were friends, Microsoft! And now I have to sleep with Apple just to get my nuts off. You fucked ME, Microsoft."
Then, with an almost imperceptible sideways nod of the head, Larry summons six large hispanic gentlemen in tasteful all-black suits, who surround Microsoft and bring him to the ground. A gunshot is fired, and the crowd at the party ducks, but Larry just takes another slow drag on his cigarette as he drinks in the sight of Microsoft's bleeding and broken body for one last, lingering moment, before turning around, tossing his cigarette on the ground, and stamping it out as he walks back to the bar.
The next day, over his morning champagne, Larry saw a story in the paper about a software company found dead on some rocks off the PCH. Authorities were still investigating, but initial reports suggest that the company died when its car, going in excess of 170 mph, left the roadway and crashed into a culvert. An autopsy revealed large amounts of cocaine in its system, along with a BAL of over 7%. But Larry wasn't concerned. he just tossed the paper back on the table, sipped his champagne, and strolled out to the water across his private beach to join the ladies frolicking naked in the crystal water.
See now? The story would TOTALLY be different if Microsoft was on POT instead of COKE.
In fact, I remember the first time I, myself, was released officially on CD. I was one of the frontrunning products featuring "Multimedia PC" technology. Oh, the hours I've spent staring at 7th-graders jacking off to my luscious tits rendered in 256 colors on a 14" display.
Those were the glory days of net porn, before banner ads caught on, before pop-up windows interrupted masturbation, before high-bandwidth enabled pimply pornomaniacs to crowd the newsgroups with endless reposts of my succulent form. I was appreciated, even respected. A milestone in online pornography, along with grainyblowjob.mov (which debuted on a Macintosh Plus) and of course Generic Made-With-Macromedia 8-bit Strip Poker.
Here's to the good old days!
Bringing a TI-58 programmable dildo home from work to play with--I got some very weird looks.
:)
1979, the first PET and TRS-80 personal dildos were in the shops, but hardly anybody was buying, and dildos were expensive things in big air conditioned rooms with noisy dildos and reel-to-reel dildo decks, and ours had a cool vector scan dildos that did screen prints to expensive, glossy thermal dildos.
Our fax machine had a spinning dildo that you wrapped an A4 sheet around. The thing spun for twenty minutes whilst what was probably a single dildo scanned it in a corkscrew pattern and sent the bits through a dildo coupler.
Engineers, we all possessed dildos, and used them every day.
People prolly think I'm making this stuff up...
"Flashpants (What a feeling)"
(To the tune of "Flashdance (What a Feeling)," Irene Cara)
Late, when there's nothing but a dim glowing screen
That displays what you hide deep inside your drive
All alone in the night, with your hand gripping tight
and your cock stiff as steel, hard as stone
Well I feel my pussy, close my eyes, pinch my nipples
Wrap around, take a hold, of your cock!
What a feeling! Penis greasing!
You can see it all and I'm younger than your wife!
Take your pants off! And get your nuts off!
Pictures come alive when you come into your eye!
Now my tits are perky, rub my clit, spread my pussy
In a flash, you take hold of your cock!
What a feeling! Fiendish beating!
Keep your Lubriderm and your tissues standing by!
Pull your pants down! And make the saints frown!
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling!
What a feeling (You are horny now)
Penis greasing (Look at porno now)
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling (You can really see it all)
What a feeling (etc.)
"Flashpants (What a feeling)"
(To the tune of "Flashdance (What a Feeling)," Irene Cara)
Late, when there's nothing but a dim glowing screen
That displays what you hide deep inside your drive
All alone in the night, with your hand gripping tight
and your cock stiff as steel, hard as stone
Well I feel my pussy, close my eyes, pinch my nipples
Wrap around, take a hold, of your cock!
What a feeling! Penis greasing!
You can see it all and I'm younger than your wife!
Take your pants off! And get your nuts off!
Pictures come alive when you come into your eye!
Now my tits are perky, rub my clit, spread my pussy
In a flash, you take hold of your cock!
What a feeling! Fiendish beating!
Keep your Lubriderm and your tissues standing by!
Pull your pants down! And make the saints frown!
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling!
What a feeling (You are horny now)
Penis greasing (Look at porno now)
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling (You can really see it all)
What a feeling (etc.)
"Flashpants (What a feeling)"
(To the tune of "Flashdance (What a Feeling)," Irene Cara)
Late, when there's nothing but a dim glowing screen
That displays what you hide deep inside your drive
All alone in the night, with your hand gripping tight
and your cock stiff as steel, hard as stone
Well I feel my pussy, close my eyes, pinch my nipples
Wrap around, take a hold, of your cock!
What a feeling! Penis greasing!
You can see it all and I'm younger than your wife!
Take your pants off! And get your nuts off!
Pictures come alive when you come into your eye!
Now my tits are perky, rub my clit, spread my pussy
In a flash, you take hold of your cock!
What a feeling! Fiendish beating!
Keep your Lubriderm and your tissues standing by!
Pull your pants down! And make the saints frown!
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling!
What a feeling (You are horny now)
Penis greasing (Look at porno now)
Pictures come alive then you come into your eye!
What a feeling (You can really see it all)
What a feeling (etc.)