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Entry #372

The Descent

9/4/13 by nietzlawe
Updated 9/4/13

THE DESCENT

Fallen to my knees like a sleazebag, teabag these teasing slags with three hands full... of teabags. Teat-Bags Full. Yes Sir Yes Sir, Skull and Crossbones, anarexic crossdresser. Ewww.gross.youkeepthoseclothesinadresser.blogspot.com. Please don't put a space between these words NG, don't strip me of my human rights, this huge mane hides inhumane writing. Not really, this head is receeding, like a torrent file. Wild Jack Torrence, Gene Wilder and Florence Nightingale all fighting for stale bread and water. Trying everything to keep a three-headed Cerberus above water. Failing, Flailing, this swimming lark is not plain sailing, unless you're a grayling. The Lady of the Stream, or was that Ladies being Streamed on XTube? XNude, sex, lube, flexed boobs, let's do the next two sex scenes, soon. Spoons. Spoonerisms, super prisons, lift the lid, Snoopers, PRISM. People at the NSA have cocks and pussies too. Noone is exempt from The Continuation of Lunacy, except those loons at sea who died trying to escape from Alcatraz. Who wouldn't? Humans weren't supposed to be confined to cages, resigned to take less pay than the minimum wage is. Its like we're moving back through the ages, set the stage up for Civil War. Anything but Civil, that false drivel is driven home little by little. Repeaters, designed to eat and ebb away your freedom metre by metre, until you're eating bird feed out of a Petri Dish. You're starving and survival relies on eating those dead foetuses. Fiendish Findus Penises, I'm serious, the only means of getting nutrients from the semen drips. You may think ol' Nietz is joking, that he is just poking fun and stroking his ego, but he ain't the Archetype of a hero. He's just a bum, strumming out these grim words with his fingers and thumbs. You think this is glum? You ain't seen gloomy. These words need discharging to make this head more roomy. So new thoughts can bloom and assume the space of the previous occupants. Keep your cock in your pants, you fucked up, it must be from when you had implants in the Occult. But Nietz is an adult he doesn't need to consult with the manual to watch Emanuelle in America. Sane man with insane thoughts to entertain those who entertain, thoughts. Do No Harm, keep calm in the face of thralldom. Fun if you're getting whipped by a tall domme. Sold your Soul to Satan the Slaver to Savour the flavour. Later she released a Statement to the public that she's just had a good lick of your luscious soul. Succulent Succubus. That's right, Satan is female. Never saw that one coming. Plot Twist, you can't stop yourself, you have to jot this down. You can't stop this now. Thoughts are artistic, no matter how uncharacteristic. These clots are brown. NG a logbook to drown our sorrows, tomorrow's woe is ancient history. International Man of Mysterious Misery. Our very our Mr. Chastain, cast into a world of everlasting pain. But Nietz has a blast furnace up his sleeve. He has to look past the past and become as successful as Thomas Nast. Instead of being a chastised social outcast. He's seen how fast things can change, from the clinking ring of chains, to a string of changes. An outspoken rookie more fragmented than a broken cookie. Kentucky and Pepsip. A pep pipe, a car without brakes driving with no headlights. Deeply rooted trauma, Scar-Mangled-Mannerisms, but without the stammer r-r-r-r-isms. Heartbeat racing, protean thinking, the naughtiest inking of thoughts shrinking as they commit to paper. Like a queue of imps stood in line waiting their turn to spawn mayhem. Its easier to write them than it is to say 'em. Fresh thoughts. Fresher than the female flesh of a French fresher thrashing and gyrating, eyes skating, hypnotised, giving her a high rating. Mind racing, watching this sexy succulent slice of rind bacon. She's looking at mine as one from a line of Lincolnshire sausages her mind has taken hostage. At one With One's Self Now, at ease, painting words on this Easel. Words are my Desert Eagle, in fact the desert's peaceful, its hot but not contaminated with other people. Nietz Like the Rural Life, no war, he's taken a neutral side. Fight between yourselves guys, I'ma just sit at the side and watch the birds in the skies. Nietz despise violence, except in writing. An inner sanctum O'Brien can't take from Me.


Comments

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DoomroarDoomroar

9/11/13

I traveled back in time and assaulted his fetus self!

9/12/13 nietzlawe responds:

You assaulted his faetus elf.


DoomroarDoomroar

9/10/13

Revenge is a must, i have to make him pay... i will gouge his eyes out!

9/11/13 nietzlawe responds:

Your words are a prequel to his blindness.


VicariousEVicariousE

9/10/13

Writing about yourself in teh third person? It's a tricky trike you ride, Mr. Nietz, but words are like tools, either left to rust outside and unseen, or sharpened, for a night out on the town...

9/11/13 nietzlawe responds:

Bludgeoned with the sharp bloody red neon end of a sharpie. That's permanent marker Nietz, and you've got it all over the fucking carpet.


DoomroarDoomroar

9/10/13

Oh... i see... so the answer is clearly...
yes, like a tree that makes sounds when failing in an inhabited forest... i was molested, together with the rest of mankind...

9/10/13 (Updated 9/10/13) nietzlawe responds:

Yes, you were more or less molested by a male that groped your chest hair. as you slept there unaware of Esref's hair... y hands.


DoomroarDoomroar

9/10/13

O shit... does that mean i was molested in my sleep?
all of us?!!!

9/10/13 nietzlawe responds:

If you were asleep and weren't aware, was it molestation? It's almost like the question, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?


DoomroarDoomroar

9/9/13

He has touched so many things phallicsofin on his debates.

9/10/13 nietzlawe responds:

He has touched all of our lives... Voyeuristically.


DoomroarDoomroar

9/9/13

But BOB was too busy flirting with BOBBI's boobies to notice that his services were needed.
Which was totally fine with Esref, he likes to see those kind of public exhibitions... with his hands...

9/9/13 nietzlawe responds:

Esref wasn't able to spy through the eye holes of a hotel painting because he was blind, which is why he decided to go more hands-on, which is the real reason why his arm was achin'. Too much of the ol' Master Debatin'.


DoomroarDoomroar

9/9/13

Maybe that is exactly that, a masochism so great it allows him to see! what a voyeur...

9/9/13 nietzlawe responds:

A blind masochist that is into voyeurism???

... Now I've seen everything!

Which is ironic because he hasn't.

Drum roll please Bob.


DoomroarDoomroar

9/5/13

Dat blog is no more... blind and deaf people were unable to even knew if the movie was playing to begin with! unless they are Eşref Armağan, one of those eyeless humans that somehow may be able to enjoy some porn watching... and no i have no idea how E$ref Armagñan is supposed to be pronounced...

9/9/13 nietzlawe responds:

Esref Armagan can't see a thing, and to top it off, even his Arm was achin' from all that painting. He must be a masochist, it must be a pain thing.


DoomroarDoomroar

9/4/13

I... i did the worst... that my forces could perform... but here it is, happy B-day!

http://gross-youkeepthoseclothesinadresser.blogspot.com

Also i think by this point i will have to see that Emanuelle in murika... but am i adult enough to not check the manual?!!!!

9/5/13 nietzlawe responds:

Can a blind and deaf person buy an 18-rated DVD?

Can a blind and deaf person be a film critic? "Pfft, this film is so boring. Nothing is happening."


Your heart is like a silken sponge that calls saliva love.

9/5/13 nietzlawe responds:

My heart is in the right place... In someone else's stomach after just finishing that heart transplant. Wait a minute? If that's the case, how am I even still writing this?

Oh yeah, I was joking. Ah, that explains everything. Except why I call saliva, love.