Dubocalypse Now

Enter through your family

I was in the TWIN TOWERS when the PLANES HIT.

That was where we invented the dub. The rumble of the planes humbles all of our complaints.

She woke up, eyes only able to gaze forward with her vision poking through the welled up tears floating in the corners near her nose. Her wrists were bound by some worn leather straps to some pale blue slab. In front of her was a moist brick wall speckled with rust spots (or so it would appear) and an indiscernible calligraphy of words in another language.

Each breath felt like a car crash at 40 miles per hour and all she could taste was hot sulfur trickling down her throat. Her ten year old throat. The dress she had had on at church earler that day seemed hardly recognizable, annd torn apart to be much shorter against he slender legs. Finally she moved her eyes along the form of her arm. The same calligraphy on the wall was written upon both of her forearms as though some pinpricked sanskrit upon parched pale papyrus. What did it say?

An interminable thud kept ushering in the next as though the harbinger of infinity had multiple personalities. Lub, dub, lub, dub. A group of cloaked figures crept into the room like a icy dagger into the chest, enveloping her like the latest Alphazone album. One of them carried a rotund, blunt instrument and the others had vials of spices and other sacred ritualistic items. She could feel herself becoming untethered, still unaware of how long she had been wherever she was.

Lurching forward, the bony grasp of one of these figures grasped her jagged shoulder, clasping the shoulder blade and blocking circulation in her neck. Knowing what was coming, she let it happen, her ending. This was to be the punctuation of her terse existence, as a cloud of murky substance billowed from their vials. The wall in front of her became invisible and the rest of her tattered rags fell carelessly to what was believed to be a concrete floor.

The raising of the club, the swing, the permanence of the end. Lifeless she fell.

The impact became the bass. Her groaning became the dub. Her last moments, her last steps.

Dubstep.

on *:text:!findsp*:#:{
if ($2 isnum 101-113 || $2 isnum 201-218 || $2 isnum 301-317 || $2 isnum 401-417 || $2 isnum 501-514 || $2 isnum 601-617 || $2 isnum 701-715 ) || $2 isnum 801-814 || $2 isnum 901-914 || $2 isnum 1001-1014 || $2 isnum 1101-1107) {
describe $chan looks for 4Episode $2 $+ : $read( southparkeps.txt, s, $2 )
timer 1 2 /msg $chan Http://allabout-sp.net/?p=season $+ $left($2,1) $+ / $+ $2
}
else msg $chan You either didn't type !findsp <#> or you typed an invalid ep number. (Epsisode numbers are set up like this...ep 911: 11th ep of 9th season. ) Ep number must be more than 1, less than 1108.
}
menu * {
South Park Ep Finder: sp
}
alias sp if (!$dialog(sp)) dialog -m sp sp
dialog sp {
title "South Park Episode Finder"
size -1 -1 159 137
option dbu
text "South Park Episode Finder", 1, 42 10 72 8, center
list 2, 9 33 50 65, size vsbar
list 3, 96 33 50 65, size vsbar
button "Get Episode", 4, 62 101 33 12
button "Cancel", 5, 67 116 21 10, ok cancel
box "Episode", 6, 94 23 56 78
box "Season", 7, 6 24 56 78
}
alias sp {
if (!$dialog(sp)) {
dialog -m sp sp

}
on *:dialog:sp:sclick:3: did -e sp 4
on *:dialog:sp:sclick:4:{
if ($mid($did(sp,3).seltext,9,3) isnum 10-11) {
run http://allabout-sp.net/?p=season $+ $mid($did(sp,2).seltext,8,3) $+ / $+ $mid($did(sp,2).seltext,8,3) $+ $mid($did(sp,3).seltext,9,3)
}
if ($mid($did(sp,3).seltext,9,3) isnum 1-9) {
run http://allabout-sp.net/?p=season $+ $mid($did(sp,2).seltext,8,3) $+ / $+ $mid($did(sp,2).seltext,8,3) $+ 0 $+ $mid($did(sp,3).seltext,9,3)
}
}

=
*/

My parents came home from their trip today.

I -- I don't even know what to do any more.

Nice one, Adam.

Contribute! How has the dub served you in your every day life?

You can use your hand to draw a turkey if you wish. It's a good rubric.

___________________

IT IS HERE WHERE I WILL ATTEMPT THE LONG JUMP

THE JAZZ HANDS

THE WRAP-AROUND SURPRISE

You can tell she's still a virgin if you hold her pale flesh up to the light

This show made me want to go back and re-read the Lord of the Rings only this time while having a recording of my moans playing in the background at the appropriate parts for dramatic and added effect.

I plan on doing this once I finish my memoirs and try to eradicate this sickening feeling I still have from this event. All in all a quite queasy venture.

BUT I WILL GO AGAINLY

My daughter was unfortunately a stillborn because of this event so next year she gets to be featured on the flier