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- 31, Male
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I am here to make a difference, isn't that why we're all here?
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Level 40 Artist
Ranked as Private
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LET IT RAIN
You really do not know me if you think that I am lonely. Being lonely's homely.
Others see it as a kind of anomaly, or a sign that you didn't adjust to society properly. You didn't stop to think that others think? You had to cause a problem and kick up a frigging stink, when its the smell of your own filthy cutlery lying in the sink.
I haven't been this worried since the dishware conglomerate ran away with the spoon... Company. Literally.
Who is Billy? And why did he Bragg so much about having all that wealth and success? He didn't Nietz, you're just incriminating him based on the fact that his name is Bragg. You have no proof that he liked to brag about things. It's the same with Johnny Rotten. You have no proof that he smells like an egg fart.
Perish quicker than a face under Katy Perry's boobies. All these new inventions. Underboob, overboob, sideboob. Hell, even 3D boob. Everything except full-on boob. Up Periscope. Up Katy Perry's scope. The tease and denial leave me leaking for your skin like I'm peeking through a eye hole. Eye hole! Eye hole! Its off to where we go! Ho--ly shit like God's faeces, no dock leaf to wipe the chocolate pieces. Hocus Pocus poke a hunter's eye out to make him lose his focus. Then throw him in the Cloaca with nothing but a bag of coke and weed. Is there anything else he might need? Er, better give him a copy of this book - The Opus, to read.
His name is Ben, and he was sen... tenced to 25 years in the pen. Without a pen. But now and then, the guards would smuggle one into his en... closure. And then force the... man to write until his head exploded like a drunk driver at the wheel of a Porsche. He is better dead, he'd have only gotten away with a caution. Now pedestrians don't have to fear being squashed, so it's awesome. They can freely walk the roads in the morning without the fear of leaving their family in mourning. But not for Ben. He was sen... tenced to 25 years in the pen. Without a pen. Yet with a total depen... dency on the superintendent's integrity. He had a penchant for inflicting intense punishment in ten cities and living out his most secretive sexual fantasies. In charge of all the faculties and Amnesty International didn't give too shits about the brutalities, or what was really happening to the inner sanctum of humanity. We all knew that too much power was spreading like an allergy and not eradicating criminality. They start the wars and all the anarchy then question you about your morality. Armed forces spreading panic and building the mechanics to start up a period of tyranny. What an irony, maybe Ben is safer in the pen, enslaved in a blissful bubble of ignorance.
Now all join me, let's do the Igno Dance, hypno, got you in a disco trance! Cisco Systems strive to build a techno prison. Exorcism. Argus watching while the experts jism. Don't believe me? Here is an excerpt, listen...
A mind-sylum like Stephen Keeler. More fucked up than Cisco Wheeler. Don't mean to cause hysteria or steal the interior core of your mind, or instil fear like Intel personnel inflicting a personal hell without flinching, merciless, a computer screen becomes a person's own cell. Internet booths. Pods. A well becomes a swimming pool, then a puddle, until you're eventually begging a congressman for oxygen. Red tape, a spider's octagon. You scream for help but the doctor's gone. He's the big chess player, another corporate with the crest name Meyer? Ready to place another layer of control that will say what you can or can't crayon. They want it to pray on your mind, bind you internally, so you question your thoughts. Implant a moral compass. But how long can their immoral fun last?
Humans are supposed to wear a thick skin, not be frail or stick thin. Eating chocolate and being sick in the sink. How low could you stoop? Lower than the NSA when they snoop, with Sniffer Dogs. People with sociopathic tendencies aren't the best placed to put people inside Wicker Man effigies. You've made a mess of this whole evolution cycle, you've turned me into a pessimist. The specialist has blown his top. Time for a Billy Holiday in the tropical desert storm that was kicking up a fuss like Henry Kissinger's Kickstarter campaign which didn't even get off the ground because it was riddled with cramp and pain. And the side of his face was burning like a damn flame. What does it take to provoke? Then make you realise it was just a big joke. Like the Ebola video that's going viral... Literally it seems. That virus is more unpredictable than Casino Cola or Al Pacino having chemo or surgery. The rumour that he was, was certainly bullshit. Because the person who spread the rumour wasn't full shilling. Not since he gave Angela Merkel oral sex without a snorkel. For old. Times sake. Thyme to tuck into basil and steak, then continue to streak nude through the streets of Newcastle. More views than inthecrack.com, warmer than Pharoahe in a Poncho, jumping up and down trampling conch shells before a punch-up with Charles Mongrel.
That was a falsehood, a Myth like the game Pyst, even though that really did exyst in the realm belms of pussy and possibility. Long before the days of Sybil's posse ruled the roost, but got bullied by hens and chickens. But that's another story and we can't tell it because the pages are stuck together. Charles has had his Dicken there again. Page 45-46 are inoperable. That's no way to treat future human Be-Inns. That have to be in before 9pm, they were given curfews and if they refused to collect Refuse Bins they were fined on the spot or shot with lots of guns. Or gunged like on Get Your Own Back. "No, you fucking get your own back!" Matthew Goodman wasn't trading for the world and neither would he sell his limited edition DVD of A Few Good Men. And neither would he participate in the ice bucket challenge when nominated... He didn't want to be dominated by buckets of ice, he thought fuck that shit I'm gettin' outta this Chicken Shit Outfit... And he did by making a conscious decision there and then to swear or at least wear ear plugs... Stars of the Lid Tired Sounds... I feel Ti Red with a Vengeance. Time to launch a tirade against these lightweights who have dice and magic trees dangling off their testicles... I'm kidding, I'm not really Ding's kid unless I was adopted at the age of *cough cough splutter splutter* by a family of nutters from a farmhouse.
The house is no longer warm now, open the back door and all the heat just swarms out. Like a porn scene with a chloroformed teen gobbling four penises. A heinous act your Highness. Especially when sperm ejects inside your sinus passages. Its a catalyst for trouble. Now Natalya has post nasal drip... Whoa wait y'all! Shit! You can't say shit like that... Labias and table tennis, has Dennis taken his tablet? Cough medicine is just a suppressor, Gaviscon the Great Dictator and his brother Gavin has gone to the Comic Con Convention, which was a lie... An elaborate hoax like coaxing a wasp onto the tip of a Q-Tip so you can tickle its fancy... Or you might not, nobody is forcing you to do anything against your will except write a will leaving everything to them when you die. And you will Die, your heart will eventually stop beating - up other people! Vicious bully. We think that vicious bullies should be taught a lesson, which ironically is what inspired them to bully in the first place... Couldn't be arsed learning. Just wanted to cause trouble and blunt force trauma to others, then post the video to eBaum's World alongside Aesop's Fables.
Rest those weary eyes weirdo, close them, lose the baggage then talk like Popeye while he goes agagagagag. Maybe he has a gag in his mouth like a Censored Civilian who got too close to the truth -- Geographically. Don't you remember? Here, let me jog your fucking memory. While a dog gets fined for laying a log on the sidewalk. It was part of a tree trunk, not his shit!
Censored by Tom Fulp's character limitati.
That's nothing to do with character limitations. Its just a new word I've invented called Limitati. A new cult if you will. The only way we can overthrow the Illuminati is by sticking together and showing our strength by...
Where have you all gone?!
*Sound of crickets... playing rugby!*
Time to blend words, give them a helping hand, twist them in a way that's easily understandable. Like an enigmatic pro-domme that just wants to stand on balls. Get trampled and placed Under the Dome surrounded by a hundred soldiers who turned Heel. Wielding Glock's and spewing spiel while stealing everything you own, including your wife, kids and home... But don't worry, Nietz is here to save the day, even though he can barely save himself... Using suave and sophisticated tactics. Hardly suave man... Like eating Google Guava for lunch, dinner and dessert... While sat in the hottest region chasing down Deserters or summin'... He's not even going to give a cheap brief summary using a case full of puns, gags and witty retorts... He's a retard, hard-to-reach-tard, you can't get to him, he's floating in outer-space-tard... Without a way to get back home... But where is home? Who would call Earth a happy landing? The disharmony and unsynchronisation is beyond staggering, as is the drunk and the two injured deer... But don't worry dude, you have nothing to fear, except vier funf and sechs... You can't fear having sexy fun! Unless you have been divided and conquered and had your whole DNA hotwired by cold plug sockets... STOPPIT! Like the Stop Being Sad wallpaper that shows a finger pointing at the screen, like that ugly fucker Uncle Sam... Uncle? You were never my uncle, you dirty fucking troll... Stop pointing at the screen or we'll have to shave off your white goatee, then force a gun into your hand and get you killed in The Art of War... The Art of Being Manipulated written by Baron de Rothschild... We don't Fucking de Care about de Planet, we are de perpetrators... Trying to turn the planet into a Baron Wasteland... Behind the scenes as the world's greatest stagehand... Hiding, orchestrating de fighting, or other flights of fancy... Its time to deviate from the schedule, instead of writing about the yeomanry, who enslave the rest of humanity systematically... Its time to shake the system's core with a little humour, instead of going on and on about the Corps... Or the warmongers, who sell war down at the ol' Market... STOPPIT! It can't be stopped like a dripping tap in the middle of the night when you're tied down to the bed with your arms in handcuffs, and shackles securing your ankles... Dayum, you couldn't prevent the light from seeping in the windows 95 CD... 95 cross dressers were all cross that you weren't dressed... In women's clothes! There wasn't a Clause in the contract that said you had to wear short skirts and tight sweaters to emphasise your man boobs... Those globes are so big they feature 10 continents apiece... It's frighTENing, literally car driver... But there were no survivors when the Rally guy drove his car in the river... Who said he did? Its merely conjecture and insulting to intelligence like having your acumen punctured... Before being turned into a gross skeletal figure with anorexia.
Recent Game Medals
Total Medals Earned: 77 (From 22 different games.)