 |
|
|
|
 |
|
 |
 |
aNYthing
Abrasive Cockhead @ Large

Registered: Dec 2005
Location: Near metric fuck-a-ton of high-end gear
|
|
|
Meanwhile in Breda, a lanky man in his twenties was silently sweeping the floor of a local nightclub bathroom. Muted sounds of Scooter's "How much is the fish!!!?" seeping through the walls didn't disturb his thought process...
"Today, I'm sweeping the floor... two weeks from now, I'll be promoted to urinal washer... then, after two or three years of hard work, I'll be promoted to a warm-up bathroom DJ... and then, with a bit of luck, I may even get a promoter spot!!! If I just stay dedicated, in 10 - 15 years, I'll be a resident DJ and that's when I can charge a rediculous fee - like at least $200 - $300 for a set!!!"
This motivated him to sweep harder, stronger, faster, better.
Door banged open and a stubby and chubby punter crashed through the door, spilling contents of his tummy on a freshly sweeped floor. He crawled to the toilet booth and managed to pull his pants down and proceeded to take a healthy shit, groaning and muttering to himself.
"FARRRRT FART FA FA FA FA FAAAAAARRRRRTTTT" loudly shook the stall walls.
"Hm... that came out rather rythmically" thought the bathroom sweeper, as he reached for the mop to clean up the freshly spilled mess. "I wonder if I could record it and use it as a sample in a track" he pondered.
Sweeper, done wiping the vomit emmited a loud "YAAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!! FUUUCK!!!", as the door slammed open again and smacked him in on the head.
"Oh, my bad", said a man who looked very much like Rufus from 'Bill and Ted's excellent adventure', as he hurriedly walked past the sweeper. He walked over to the urinal and started to piss in a pathetic trickle of a man with a prostate problem.
"Sorry lad, didn't see you standing there. Let me make it up to you", he said.
"How?" Said the sweeper, rubbing his bruised forehead.
"How about I tell you your future?"
"Huh?"
"YOUR.FUTURE.... WANT.TO.HEAR.IT?", asked Rufus-look-alike, punctuating every word slowly, thinking to himself that he was dealing with not a very sharp young man.
"Sure", said the sweeper with a smirk on his face. "He's not only taking a piss, HE'S TAKING A PISS!" thought the sweeper, "He must think I'm some fucking loser that falls for carnival tricks. Fucking ******!".
Rubber Duckie happy hardcore was playing now, punctuated by "FAAART FART FA RRT FFAA FAAAAARRRTTT" coming from the stall. At least 20 to 30 fucked up ravers were losing it on the dance floor. "that could be me, spinning..." thought the sweeper.
"In less than 5 years you will be known world-wide, in less than 10 years you will be playing massive events with 30,000+ people in attendance. Your best friends will be tallentless rapers, hookers, promoters, and other nobodies who think they're somebodies. Your name will be well known world-wide and you'll have your own fist-pumping following in the state of New Jersey".
"Hey mate, you better stay of them happy pills - you're talking pure rubbish and completely fucking insane!", said the sweeper.
"NO, son, I know what I'm talking about"
"Buh. buh. But HOW????"
"My name is Alberto Falk" he said, zipping up and shaking his piss-covered hand, as he extended it towards the sweeper. "And I am from THE FUTURE!!!!"
"HURRR????" said the sweeper
"Yes, you will be famous and rich, even though you have no tallent. Heck, you can even come home tonight and start smacking your cock on your Cassio keyboard and people will think you're a GOD."
"Hey, how do you know about my Cassio and that I smack my dick on it???"
"You told everyone about it in your YouTube interview"
"You.. WHAT interview?"
"Oh, never mind. All in due time, lad", said Alberto still holding his protruding and wet hand in front of the sweeper. "Nice to meet you, Mr. #1 DJ, voted by readers of DJ Mag!"
"Tijis Werwest", said the sweeper as he shook wet hand of Alberto Falk.
"Anywho, I must leave now - I got some forums to troll", said Alberto.
"Forums? YouTube? DJ Mag? What the FUCK IS HE ON?".
As Alberto was walking out of the bathroom, he pounded on the stall door and yelled, "Hey, Ingrosso - record your farts - you'll also be famous and just as tallentless as this testicle over there"
"Thanks Guvvrrrrwhhruhuurl" vomited out the farter, as his beer and chips splattered on the floor again.
"Tiesticle..." I like the sound of that said Tijis..."Tiesticle...That goes well with Tijis" sweeper thought.
That night, Tijis went home, took out his dusty 4 track tape recorder, hit his favorite "Bossa Nova" patch on his Cassio keyboard and proceeded to smack his penis on the keys...
"AND I SHALL CALL THIS TRACK FLIGHT 643!" he exclaimed.
...
MEANWHILE... back at the club, Ingrosso was sleeping happily on the floor, in a puddle of his own vomit, hugging filthy nightclub toilet and dreaming.... "mmm...mode hookers... NO! sweedish house mafia" was circling through his pilled-out mind.
___________________
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate
|
|
Sep-23-2011 02:23
|
|
|
 |
 |
ziptnf
Programming your future

Registered: Jun 2008
Location: Louisville, KY
|
|
|
Sep-23-2011 03:56
|
|
|
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
Mike4Trance
tranceaddict in training
Registered: Sep 2011
Location: Ibiza
|
|
|
Chapter 5
"I have an idea who could help us", Fledz said. "There's this guy who lives near the college in an old barn. Some say he's a prophet, others call him a lunatic, but he surely is an expert on weird shit like this."
So we hit the road, leaving poor Sushi still dancing manically in his room. Near the college we ran into principal Swamper.
"Hi guys!", he said. "Please take a minute to fill out your ballot - *EVERY VOTE COUNTS* - and with yours the results will be a more accurate reflection of who TAs consider to be their favourites! Some of the spots in our past poll were decided on the final day - so remember to show your support and vote for *any* DJ who has made an impact on you in 2011!"
We told him to fuck off, cause we had more important things to do. When we arrived at the barn house night had started to set in.
"You sure that somebody lives here?", I asked. We knocked on the door.
"Wup!", a voice from the other side responded. "To enter you must first answer the door question. Wup!"
"What's the question?", I said, giving the other a confused look.
"Wup! Which one is the best Star Wars movie? Wup!"
"Oh, I know it!", PKC shouted in excitation. "The next Generation. The one with Captain Adama."
A loud "Wuuuuuuuuuup" was heard from the inside. Then the door opened.
"Believe it or not", Fledz said to me, "this guy used to be a doctor. An expert in xenografts, the transplantation of foreign tissue. He was called the Xenocreator. That is, until he got fired and went to jail."
"Why?", I asked as we entered.
"Tried to transplant goat horns to a human."
"Wup! Welcome", Xeno greeted us. "We so rarely have visitors around here. Wup!" He was standing amidst the dimly lit room, together with a full grown white goat.
"We need your help. Our friend is... sort of sick and we don't know how to help him", I said.
"Wup! The goat can answer all of your questions. You just need to stare at the goat. Wup!"
I said: "Wup? I mean what?"
"Trust him", Fledz said.
So I sat down before the goat and stared at it. "Wup! Look right into its eyes. All the secrets of the world can be revealed in the goat's eyes. Wup!"
I sat there for ten minutes or so and the only secret that got revealed to me was how retarded his idea had been. "I don't see anyting except a bored goat", I said.
"Wup! Maybe it would help if one of your friends fucked the goat from behind. Often it reveals its secrets easier then. Wup!"
"The hell?!", Fledz yelled. "I'm not doing that."
"Let me do it", PKC said. "I fucked goats better than you when I was 8." He got behind the goat and put his pants down.
The whole act was so disgusting, it indeed helped me concentrate on the goats eyes, sinking into its never blinking stare. After ten more minutes PKC was getting exhausted from screwing the goat and I still found now wisdom in the goat's eyes. "I don't see how this reveals anything", I said.
"Wup! Your question has been answered. It has been revealed. Your friend is a sick, goat-fucking bastard. Just as you suspected. Wup!", Xeno said.
"What? That was not the fucking question. It was about another guy", I yelled.
"Wup? Oh."
Last edited by Mike4Trance on Sep-23-2011 at 14:24
|
|
Sep-23-2011 10:58
|
|
|
 |
All times are GMT. The time now is 01:30.
Forum Rules:
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not edit your posts
|
HTML code is ON
vB code is ON
[IMG] code is ON
|
|
|
|
|
|
Contact Us - return to tranceaddict
Powered by: Trance Music & vBulletin Forums
Copyright ©2000-2026, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
Privacy Statement / DMCA
|