Anyway, the vision of his mother soon faded away and he regained consciousness once more, back in the gutter, with his life’s blood once again spreading out like a reflective pool surrounded by tropical plants and perhaps a parrot perched in the plants and a few saltwater fish swimming around, although in his case the parrots were really whores and junkies and the saltwater fish were the aforementioned condoms and needles, and the water was the aforementioned life’s blood, so perhaps the analogy wasn’t quite so apt as one might have hoped.
Psych; the life’s blood is just melted Fudgesicle from the broken-down ice cream truck.
Then God decided to end all existence including His own.
The reset button, the reset button, dead God, where was the reset button?
The Lord found the reset button, and from the resulting blackhole, there sprang a new world, populated by all the kindnesses, lusts, cravings and perversions of existence before – including the small boy on a farm outside Topeka, Kansas, looking at Miss October 1968 and liking what he saw.
Then Gay Hitler (from SNL) said, “If God ended all existence including His he ended the existence of the reset button” and wondered why he was still around.
<aside>William, around here, we generally let “write a story” games die a natural death, rather than have someone insert an apocalypse. Check out this thread, specifically glee’s objectionable post and then moderator C.K. Dexter Haven’s comment. If you blow everyone up in a story, that takes the chance away from other people to participate. Not a very nice thing to do.
Back to the story!</aside>
<aside> I hoping to take into a Sci-Fi religious paradox sort of path. With absurd pop culture elements
And ANYWAY, Sam realized to himself that his own impeding death could be considered the end of his universe, however he wasn’t solipsistic enough to actually believe that his death would literally be the end of the universe; all this he realized as he watched his life’s blood mingle with melted fudgesicle, creating intricate fractal patterns in the gutter as the rain began to fall, a hard rain whose beat matched the slowing beat of his heart.
Meanwhile, during a delay on the 12th hole of an exclusive Connecticut Golf course, Dick Cheney gnawed on the skull of a Iraqi war orphan.
Then eyehol fucked it, dry.
eyehol = eyehole
“Mmm,” he mumbled through crumbs, “These Iraqi War Orphan brand cookies are delicious, and for such a good cause…did you know they contribute 10% of their profits to buying Iraqi war orphans Ben and Jerry’s ice cream?”
"That’s just great,’ said President Bush, "now watch this drive.’
“No,” said George W Bush, who was busy fisting his mother and father.
Then Cheney brought pie and there was much rejoicing.
Because the pie was made of the semen of Jesus Christ which had been saved for over 2000 years after dripped out of a whore.
::backs slowly out of the thread :rolleyes:
I’m right there with you, gigi. Well, guys, it was fun while it lasted, but I just can’t participate in something that includes skull-fucking orphans, incestuous fisting and blessed semen. We all have our boundaries, and that’s way past mine.
As far as I can tell, William Strunk Jr., you’re wasting everyone’s time by trolling this thread. Quit it, and go play elsewhere lest you lose your posting privileges altogether.