02/10/26
Self-esteem for your stupid brain
|  Radiation Plantationby Winston C. Mars   October 13, 2003 "Radiation Plantation,"
I spoke the information. "Scott?" Scott blew snot on a pink carnation. "Ready the gammaram, and prepare for floatation." "Aye aye, captain," he replied as he spied a crustacean. So at last we'd found it, in the deepest of space! This holiest of grails, the prey in our chase… Who'd have believed it! Real, and true? Nobody! But you were all wrong! And screw you! Pausing to blink in the thick radiation, I surveyed the scene with a keen adulation. The orange peaks protruding from a backdrop so drab— "Scott, now goddammit! Don't kick that space crab!" Christ! On the cusp of a discovery so vast it would make the wheel itself seem half-assed, I was cursed with a first mate so wantonly inept that I put down my somascope and wantonly wept! No good! No use! Might as well pack it in! My half-life had been wasted, chucked in the waste bin. Twenty long years been spent in pursuit… Now the ass of my dreams was being kicked with a boot! The free energy here could boggle the brain, with atomic atoms and radiant rain. It could power a nation and make a man rich. "Scott, stop rolling around in that space ditch!" It's useless, it's hopeless! It's patently absurd! There he is throwing rocks at a space bird! A competent crewman would be my salvation. Oh, I picked the wrong weekend to ask for visitation! "What is it now Scott? Can't you see I'm distraught? With no way to prove that I was here or not? The mission's a failure, no one will believe that I ever found this place. Now let's us just leave!" "You found me a present, well yippie and woo-hoo. Wait, this is the space shell of a radiant shrew! It's only found here… our failure undone! Oh what a genius I have for a son!" Quote of the Day“I never met a man I didn't like, want to kill.”-Dill "California Angst" Wongers Fortune 500 CookieYou will fall in love with a new douche this week, a fact that unfortunately has nothing at all to do with feminine hygiene. Try to pay more attention to your figure: word on the street is you're upgrading from "pear-shaped" to "sack of shit-y." You will finally come to understand the phrase "fifteen men on a dead man's chest" this week, thanks to an unfortunate dogpile mishap. Your lucky perfumes: Colonic for Men, Goat's Dong, Eau Du Crapper.Try again later. Worst-Selling Breakfast Cereals
 The Insomnia of Ransom Ripple Ransom Ripple's twisted nipples kept him from his sleep. The night was long, as Ransom's thong straight up his ass would creep. An incessant dripping at his ears was nipping, as it echoed from the sink. "This noisy room will be my... (9/29/03) Nature Lovely limping little lepers like to lick my Dr Pepper. Lice feel nice as honey-nuts buzz right up a buzzard's butt. Screaming beetles weave through weevils so rude they chewed all my Big League Chew. "Motherfucker!" go call Smuckers ... (9/15/03) Waiter! "A ball bearing wearing ranch dressing blessing Blanche's wedding? Upsetting," Ted grieved as he weaved his sleeve. "Hey, what did you say?" Nate was late. "Speak up toward my head, Ted." "Whose blues did Louis use?" Ted said. "Choose? I... (9/1/03)            |
Reproduction in hole or in parts without permission is likely to piss off her dad big time.