GaiusIuliusCaesar

Am I doing it right? the shout out thing? I'm not am I?

It was rather nice out today. I woke up early, went out and bought a new suit, then I finished raking the leaves in the back yard. Now I just have to finish getting rid of the trash, and do the front yard. There is a pile of old rusted paint buckets that have to be thrown away, so I'm in the process of prying them open so they solidify and can then be thrown out.

Haven't done that since I was a kid, I usually eat out at cons where I don't have access to microwaves. So its either I eat it there or it gets tossed... speaking of since I didn't go to AB I missed out on the pour house's half priced burger special... I always get that when I go, that and half priced Mexican items after preregistration on Thursdays. I have literally stuffed myself sick there and had a bill where the one beer was more expensive than the food.

At least its skin hasn't been removed to make a lady suit.

I almost never intentionally get fast food, but I almost always finish my meals... even when I shouldn't, and man there have been some times where I really should not have finished.

pretty good, started working out again, cleaned up the yard a bit, and I'm about to get a new suit.

You're just jealous that I rock a toga, you uncultured swine.

Eat some more pills, pill head.

I know what my goals are.

"Thro’ the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber, Past the wan-moon’d abysses of night, I have liv’d o’er my lives without number, I have sounded all things with my sight; And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright. I have whirl’d with the earth at the dawning, When the sky was a vaporous flame; I have seen the dark universe yawning, Where the black planets roll without aim; Where they roll in their horror unheeded, without knowledge or lustre or name. I had drifted o’er seas without ending, Under sinister grey-clouded skies That the many-fork’d lightning is rending, That resound with hysterical cries; With the moans of invisible daemons that out of the green waters rise. I have plung’d like a deer thro’ the arches Of the hoary primordial grove, Where the oaks feel the presence that marches And stalks on where no spirit dares rove; And I flee from a thing that surrounds me, and leers thro’ dead branches above. I have stumbled by cave-ridden mountains That rise barren and bleak from the plain, I have drunk of the fog-fetid fountains That ooze down to the marsh and the main; And in hot cursed tarns I have seen things I care not to gaze on again. I have scann’d the vast ivy-clad palace, I have trod its untenanted hall, Where the moon writhing up from the valleys Shews the tapestried things on the wall; Strange figures discordantly woven, which I cannot endure to recall. I have peer’d from the casement in wonder At the moldering meadows around, At the many-roof’d village laid under The curse of a grave-girdled ground; And from rows of white urn-carven marble I listen intently for sound. I have haunted the tombs of the ages, I have flown on the pinions of fear Where the smoke-belching Erebus rages, Where the jokulls loom snow-clad and drear: And in realms where the sun of the desert consumes what it never can cheer. I was old when the Pharaohs first mounted The jewel-deck’d throne by the Nile; I was old in those epochs uncounted When I, and I only, was vile; And Man, yet untainted and happy, dwelt in bliss on the far Arctic isle. Oh, great was the sin of my spirit, And great is the reach of its doom; Not the pity of Heaven can cheer it, Nor can respite be found in the tomb: Down the infinite aeons come beating the wings of unmerciful gloom. Thro’ the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber, Past the wan-moon’d abysses of night, I have liv’d o’er my lives without number, I have sounded all things with my sight; And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright." Nemesis, by Hp Lovecraft

knackered, utterly knackered.

Never touch the stuff, fish fuck in it.

You get what you pay for...

well played...

Soon...

It was something about thoughtcrime, planet of telepaths that outlawed violent thoughts, and accidentally created a black market trading in them. I used to write poems a long time ago, if you could call them poems. They were more strings of semi related subjects that I made to rhyme.

you shut your whore mouth or fork over one of those damned burgers!

hair follicles once dead do not grow back, there is a surgery you can get but it costs 10,000 dollars... still hopefully the pills will keep it from getting worse. Plus I can't imagine how much that must hurt.

That's actually a good point, not sure how respectful keeping a corpse in the fridge for 4 months is.

I was doing that for a while, until my prescription for anti narcolepsy medication was refilled. Now I am just waiting for it to stop fucking raining so I can finish cleaning up the yard.

This is quite possibly the most obvious troll post in internet history, I feel like someone should create an award to commemorate it.

first one, take any famous phrase, movie, book, or game title with the world heart and replace it with dick. examples, the dick knows, the dick wants what it wants, home is where the dick is, et cetera.

I was preoccupied with various distractions. That and there was a dearth of interesting subjects the few times I did check the boards.