quote:

Originally posted by bas Ew, her bush is probably full of bits of kleenex and carrots and shit.

why carrots?!

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quote:

Originally posted by Slylee oh well, different strokes different vaginas

Some dance to remember ~ Some dance to forget

quote:

Originally posted by Ania_xox why carrots?!

I just equate bits of food with uncleanliness

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She'd looked wonderful that day. A tea-party stare flicking in her gaze as she adorned the most garnished attire. As though colonial nobility, her collarbone sharp and pronounced and under the duress of the most mellifluous and sparkling necklace.

I was going to propose to her this night. We had the reservations, the finest and most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. I'd had my personal reservations washing over me though, recently. Tucked deep down, where the silent pauses shift and sway internally, needlessly shaking everything vital. My nights stretched to waxing mornings, a horizon I'd hate to witness.

Recently I had been flirting with some unhealthy substances. Namely, amphetamines. It had gotten to the point that the night time ceding to sunlight no longer bothered me. And the hanging engagement and certified fear of eternal betrothed-ness settled into the ensconcing background. Hovering in some forgotten natal, fatal portions apportioned.

Support from, an incestuous ruse and slightly bemused I'd return for further favor
For the blood from the line, the blood which was mine was surely the best to savor
The bygone listlessness of permanent stasis formed as an encroaching but necessary basis

Her wrists looked frail today. Thin and white like palatable sugarcane. Malty and arthritic at the same time.

I'd acquired quite the substance from the apothecary I'd frequently frequent. I would fuck him ceaselessly for ceasy mickjaggerswager fuck bitches in mouths cuntgrenades.

GHB and a pound of ketamine. Let's set her free, for I shall never marry. Never carry such a cross for such bad poetry.

I met her, for we had reservations at one of the finest, yet most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. Her with her sugarcane wrists, glazed-over gaze waxing into a hope for the approaching future. My fear of horizons finally scorched by the imminent event horizon. I besmirched her drink.

Soon thereafter she fainted desperately over the table. I leapt to my feet and grasped her gingerly. Ever so. Hastily I gathered our belongings and whisked her away to my car. The busboys gave daunting glares of dismay, disgust, distraught. I pretended as not to notice, merely gruffly stated that she has low-blood sugar and that this happens occasionally -- that I could handle this oft-occurring happenstance. They believed me and let us go without contacting any authorities.

There were in my car. The slick leather seats wouldn't dare mention or pry with prudence. In this commode of brutal ruthlessness. I opened the bag of ketamine and slid it up her nostrils, into her mouth. Into her in all ways possible. I even removed her trousers and forced entry. This was all my myopic but assured fantasy. Her entire body shivered out of lifelessness, suddenly dancing in my arms. ENDLESS RAVE. I blared Parade of Athletes. As rape as I could.

Suddenly my hunting knife glinted on the floor of my car. My most primal instincts took over as I clutched in forcefully almost instantly after thinking about it. Like I telepathically moved it into my hand. I gouged. Her blood flowed down into my trousers as well and then we fucked. ALL NIGHT TO PARADE OF ATHLETES AND BLEEDING.

At the end I put the ring on her finger. I packaged her up nicely and we drove down to the pier. It was beautiful.

Thank you Parade of Athletes.

quote:

Originally posted by enydo She'd looked wonderful that day. A tea-party stare flicking in her gaze as she adorned the most garnished attire. As though colonial nobility, her collarbone sharp and pronounced and under the duress of the most mellifluous and sparkling necklace. I was going to propose to her this night. We had the reservations, the finest and most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. I'd had my personal reservations washing over me though, recently. Tucked deep down, where the silent pauses shift and sway internally, needlessly shaking everything vital. My nights stretched to waxing mornings, a horizon I'd hate to witness. Recently I had been flirting with some unhealthy substances. Namely, amphetamines. It had gotten to the point that the night time ceding to sunlight no longer bothered me. And the hanging engagement and certified fear of eternal betrothed-ness settled into the ensconcing background. Hovering in some forgotten natal, fatal portions apportioned. Support from, an incestuous ruse and slightly bemused I'd return for further favor For the blood from the line, the blood which was mine was surely the best to savor The bygone listlessness of permanent stasis formed as an encroaching but necessary basis Her wrists looked frail today. Thin and white like palatable sugarcane. Malty and arthritic at the same time. I'd acquired quite the substance from the apothecary I'd frequently frequent. I would fuck him ceaselessly for ceasy mickjaggerswager fuck bitches in mouths cuntgrenades. GHB and a pound of ketamine. Let's set her free, for I shall never marry. Never carry such a cross for such bad poetry. I met her, for we had reservations at one of the finest, yet most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. Her with her sugarcane wrists, glazed-over gaze waxing into a hope for the approaching future. My fear of horizons finally scorched by the imminent event horizon. I besmirched her drink. Soon thereafter she fainted desperately over the table. I leapt to my feet and grasped her gingerly. Ever so. Hastily I gathered our belongings and whisked her away to my car. The busboys gave daunting glares of dismay, disgust, distraught. I pretended as not to notice, merely gruffly stated that she has low-blood sugar and that this happens occasionally -- that I could handle this oft-occurring happenstance. They believed me and let us go without contacting any authorities. There were in my car. The slick leather seats wouldn't dare mention or pry with prudence. In this commode of brutal ruthlessness. I opened the bag of ketamine and slid it up her nostrils, into her mouth. Into her in all ways possible. I even removed her trousers and forced entry. This was all my myopic but assured fantasy. Her entire body shivered out of lifelessness, suddenly dancing in my arms. ENDLESS RAVE. I blared Parade of Athletes. As rape as I could. Suddenly my hunting knife glinted on the floor of my car. My most primal instincts took over as I clutched in forcefully almost instantly after thinking about it. Like I telepathically moved it into my hand. I gouged. Her blood flowed down into my trousers as well and then we fucked. ALL NIGHT TO PARADE OF ATHLETES AND BLEEDING. At the end I put the ring on her finger. I packaged her up nicely and we drove down to the pier. It was beautiful. Thank you Parade of Athletes.

quote:

Originally posted by enydo She'd looked wonderful that day. A tea-party stare flicking in her gaze as she adorned the most garnished attire. As though colonial nobility, her collarbone sharp and pronounced and under the duress of the most mellifluous and sparkling necklace. I was going to propose to her this night. We had the reservations, the finest and most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. I'd had my personal reservations washing over me though, recently. Tucked deep down, where the silent pauses shift and sway internally, needlessly shaking everything vital. My nights stretched to waxing mornings, a horizon I'd hate to witness. Recently I had been flirting with some unhealthy substances. Namely, amphetamines. It had gotten to the point that the night time ceding to sunlight no longer bothered me. And the hanging engagement and certified fear of eternal betrothed-ness settled into the ensconcing background. Hovering in some forgotten natal, fatal portions apportioned. Support from, an incestuous ruse and slightly bemused I'd return for further favor For the blood from the line, the blood which was mine was surely the best to savor The bygone listlessness of permanent stasis formed as an encroaching but necessary basis Her wrists looked frail today. Thin and white like palatable sugarcane. Malty and arthritic at the same time. I'd acquired quite the substance from the apothecary I'd frequently frequent. I would fuck him ceaselessly for ceasy mickjaggerswager fuck bitches in mouths cuntgrenades. GHB and a pound of ketamine. Let's set her free, for I shall never marry. Never carry such a cross for such bad poetry. I met her, for we had reservations at one of the finest, yet most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. Her with her sugarcane wrists, glazed-over gaze waxing into a hope for the approaching future. My fear of horizons finally scorched by the imminent event horizon. I besmirched her drink. Soon thereafter she fainted desperately over the table. I leapt to my feet and grasped her gingerly. Ever so. Hastily I gathered our belongings and whisked her away to my car. The busboys gave daunting glares of dismay, disgust, distraught. I pretended as not to notice, merely gruffly stated that she has low-blood sugar and that this happens occasionally -- that I could handle this oft-occurring happenstance. They believed me and let us go without contacting any authorities. There were in my car. The slick leather seats wouldn't dare mention or pry with prudence. In this commode of brutal ruthlessness. I opened the bag of ketamine and slid it up her nostrils, into her mouth. Into her in all ways possible. I even removed her trousers and forced entry. This was all my myopic but assured fantasy. Her entire body shivered out of lifelessness, suddenly dancing in my arms. ENDLESS RAVE. I blared Parade of Athletes. As rape as I could. Suddenly my hunting knife glinted on the floor of my car. My most primal instincts took over as I clutched in forcefully almost instantly after thinking about it. Like I telepathically moved it into my hand. I gouged. Her blood flowed down into my trousers as well and then we fucked. ALL NIGHT TO PARADE OF ATHLETES AND BLEEDING. At the end I put the ring on her finger. I packaged her up nicely and we drove down to the pier. It was beautiful. Thank you Parade of Athletes.

Gotta be Demoted.

___________________

quote:

Originally posted by enydo I opened the bag of ketamine and slid it up her nostrils, into her mouth. Into her in all ways possible. I even removed her trousers and forced entry. This was all my myopic but assured fantasy. Her entire body shivered out of lifelessness, suddenly dancing in my arms. ENDLESS RAVE. I blared Parade of Athletes. As rape as I could. Suddenly my hunting knife glinted on the floor of my car. My most primal instincts took over as I clutched in forcefully almost instantly after thinking about it. Like I telepathically moved it into my hand. I gouged. Her blood flowed down into my trousers as well and then we fucked. ALL NIGHT TO PARADE OF ATHLETES AND BLEEDING. At the end I put the ring on her finger. I packaged her up nicely and we drove down to the pier. It was beautiful. Thank you Parade of Athletes.

+1

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When a wise man gives thee better counsel, give me mine again: I would have none but knaves follow it, since a fool gives it.

and noooothing else maaattterrrrssss

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quote:

Originally posted by jvankampen20 I have been following Tiesto since 99. I was immediately enthralled by what I still regard the best electronic CD ever compiled, Magik VI Live in Amsterdam. This CD is loaded with uplifting, energetic, blood moving tracks intricately mixed with angelic perfection. From that moment on, I could feel the magik flowing through my veins while listening to the music that Tijs carefully samples and produces. His creativity allows him to develop the concepts of songs that bring life and energy to people around the world.

quote:

Originally posted by enydo She'd looked wonderful that day. A tea-party stare flicking in her gaze as she adorned the most garnished attire. As though colonial nobility, her collarbone sharp and pronounced and under the duress of the most mellifluous and sparkling necklace. I was going to propose to her this night. We had the reservations, the finest and most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. I'd had my personal reservations washing over me though, recently. Tucked deep down, where the silent pauses shift and sway internally, needlessly shaking everything vital. My nights stretched to waxing mornings, a horizon I'd hate to witness. Recently I had been flirting with some unhealthy substances. Namely, amphetamines. It had gotten to the point that the night time ceding to sunlight no longer bothered me. And the hanging engagement and certified fear of eternal betrothed-ness settled into the ensconcing background. Hovering in some forgotten natal, fatal portions apportioned. Support from, an incestuous ruse and slightly bemused I'd return for further favor For the blood from the line, the blood which was mine was surely the best to savor The bygone listlessness of permanent stasis formed as an encroaching but necessary basis Her wrists looked frail today. Thin and white like palatable sugarcane. Malty and arthritic at the same time. I'd acquired quite the substance from the apothecary I'd frequently frequent. I would fuck him ceaselessly for ceasy mickjaggerswager fuck bitches in mouths cuntgrenades. GHB and a pound of ketamine. Let's set her free, for I shall never marry. Never carry such a cross for such bad poetry. I met her, for we had reservations at one of the finest, yet most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. Her with her sugarcane wrists, glazed-over gaze waxing into a hope for the approaching future. My fear of horizons finally scorched by the imminent event horizon. I besmirched her drink. Soon thereafter she fainted desperately over the table. I leapt to my feet and grasped her gingerly. Ever so. Hastily I gathered our belongings and whisked her away to my car. The busboys gave daunting glares of dismay, disgust, distraught. I pretended as not to notice, merely gruffly stated that she has low-blood sugar and that this happens occasionally -- that I could handle this oft-occurring happenstance. They believed me and let us go without contacting any authorities. There were in my car. The slick leather seats wouldn't dare mention or pry with prudence. In this commode of brutal ruthlessness. I opened the bag of ketamine and slid it up her nostrils, into her mouth. Into her in all ways possible. I even removed her trousers and forced entry. This was all my myopic but assured fantasy. Her entire body shivered out of lifelessness, suddenly dancing in my arms. ENDLESS RAVE. I blared Parade of Athletes. As rape as I could. Suddenly my hunting knife glinted on the floor of my car. My most primal instincts took over as I clutched in forcefully almost instantly after thinking about it. Like I telepathically moved it into my hand. I gouged. Her blood flowed down into my trousers as well and then we fucked. ALL NIGHT TO PARADE OF ATHLETES AND BLEEDING. At the end I put the ring on her finger. I packaged her up nicely and we drove down to the pier. It was beautiful. Thank you Parade of Athletes.

Not bad. Needs an impromptu abortion or three, but it's definitely got style.

___________________
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

I mean, I got in poetic incest, rape, and drug use. I would say that's serviceable. Is there such a thing as "too much"?

Subtlety.

Subterfuge.

Abortion in the centrifuge.

___________________

quote:

Originally posted by jvankampen20 I have been following Tiesto since 99. I was immediately enthralled by what I still regard the best electronic CD ever compiled, Magik VI Live in Amsterdam. This CD is loaded with uplifting, energetic, blood moving tracks intricately mixed with angelic perfection. From that moment on, I could feel the magik flowing through my veins while listening to the music that Tijs carefully samples and produces. His creativity allows him to develop the concepts of songs that bring life and energy to people around the world.

wtf I posted the perfect response and no one noticed?!? What's wrong with this place?

Someone quote it with a "lol" to make me feel better, like the good ol' days.

quote:

Originally posted by enydo She'd looked wonderful that day. A tea-party stare flicking in her gaze as she adorned the most garnished attire. As though colonial nobility, her collarbone sharp and pronounced and under the duress of the most mellifluous and sparkling necklace. I was going to propose to her this night. We had the reservations, the finest and most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. I'd had my personal reservations washing over me though, recently. Tucked deep down, where the silent pauses shift and sway internally, needlessly shaking everything vital. My nights stretched to waxing mornings, a horizon I'd hate to witness. Recently I had been flirting with some unhealthy substances. Namely, amphetamines. It had gotten to the point that the night time ceding to sunlight no longer bothered me. And the hanging engagement and certified fear of eternal betrothed-ness settled into the ensconcing background. Hovering in some forgotten natal, fatal portions apportioned. Support from, an incestuous ruse and slightly bemused I'd return for further favor For the blood from the line, the blood which was mine was surely the best to savor The bygone listlessness of permanent stasis formed as an encroaching but necessary basis Her wrists looked frail today. Thin and white like palatable sugarcane. Malty and arthritic at the same time. I'd acquired quite the substance from the apothecary I'd frequently frequent. I would fuck him ceaselessly for ceasy mickjaggerswager fuck bitches in mouths cuntgrenades. GHB and a pound of ketamine. Let's set her free, for I shall never marry. Never carry such a cross for such bad poetry. I met her, for we had reservations at one of the finest, yet most flagrantly ecumenical of establishments. Her with her sugarcane wrists, glazed-over gaze waxing into a hope for the approaching future. My fear of horizons finally scorched by the imminent event horizon. I besmirched her drink. Soon thereafter she fainted desperately over the table. I leapt to my feet and grasped her gingerly. Ever so. Hastily I gathered our belongings and whisked her away to my car. The busboys gave daunting glares of dismay, disgust, distraught. I pretended as not to notice, merely gruffly stated that she has low-blood sugar and that this happens occasionally -- that I could handle this oft-occurring happenstance. They believed me and let us go without contacting any authorities. There were in my car. The slick leather seats wouldn't dare mention or pry with prudence. In this commode of brutal ruthlessness. I opened the bag of ketamine and slid it up her nostrils, into her mouth. Into her in all ways possible. I even removed her trousers and forced entry. This was all my myopic but assured fantasy. Her entire body shivered out of lifelessness, suddenly dancing in my arms. ENDLESS RAVE. I blared Parade of Athletes. As rape as I could. Suddenly my hunting knife glinted on the floor of my car. My most primal instincts took over as I clutched in forcefully almost instantly after thinking about it. Like I telepathically moved it into my hand. I gouged. Her blood flowed down into my trousers as well and then we fucked. ALL NIGHT TO PARADE OF ATHLETES AND BLEEDING. At the end I put the ring on her finger. I packaged her up nicely and we drove down to the pier. It was beautiful. Thank you Parade of Athletes.

___________________

quote:

Originally posted by AustralianGQ im a failure with females...i will be the real 40 year old virgin i guarentee you