|A whole new level of mind-raping, cock-sucking, whiskey-guzzling, bear-wrestling, sheer mother fucking dick-waving madness.|
A whole new level;
She was the first one through the door.
She was Queen Crazy.
Something's WrongMadness boiling away, beneath my skinSomething's Wrong by Zed-of-Venice
Making broth of my bones, cooking me like meat
Devouring everything; blindly, without prejudice
Wiping away all of what made me myself
Replacing it all with spider's webs and moonlight
And dark passion, black enough to taint the saints' tongues
Something's wrong inside me
|Tyler Durden. If you somehow don't already have a print of this piece hanging over your bed (unlikely, but possible), buy it now and hang it over your bed. Pray to it nightly. Ask Tyler for wisdom. This is what your life needs.|
MONSTERMONSTERMONSTER by Jessin-Way
The bright computer screen on her lap made her room seem even darker than black. The only things she could distinguish amidst the darkness were the flashing red numbers on the alarm clock with the wrong time, the four yellow dots on the VHS/DVD player and the faintest outline of the closed blinds against the window, everything else didn't seem to exist. Given her history of silent panic attacks, she tried her best to just focus on the screen, trying to ignore what was hiding in the dark beyond it. The more she tried to focus on it though the more she thought about what was hiding in that abyss.
What if there were dozens of little spiders, making webs between everything that covered the floor. What if they were laying tons of baby spiders that would emerge in a few days and devour her and all of her possessions? She almost couldn't think of a more horrible fate until
What if the monster laid hiding behind the boxes, under the clothes and books piled on top of it? It had th
|Never sold a single fucking one. But I still hope that someday, someone might be willing to pay a small sum for the pleasure of having my art to display in their own home. *sighs* Someday.|
|Help me go premium! |
But you won't, 'cos you got better shit to do with your fuckin' points.
Except you don't, you're just a bastard. Come on, spare some fuckin change for a damn near penniless artist.
What's a few damn virtual points to you? Would you really let me suffer for such a pittance?
If this actually works: Thank you kindly!
If (as I suspect) nobody reads it: My deepest and most private secret is that I am, in fact, a bloody fucking authentic warlock. I could turn your mom to bats, dude.
If someone read this and is feeling miffed or like they've just wasted precious time: Time is money. If you had just hit "donate" you'd have broken even. Selfish bastard.