Mama We're All Crazee (368 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.6 on 7 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Vicousness63 (View user info) at 2006-10-17 18:33:55 EDT
His eyes go dark after confusion makes way for anger at what must have been a defiant tirade even though he probably didn't hear any of it. He advances on me like the angel of death, violent and vibrant, all together beautiful but doomed. As he rushes me, I simply pull out the rod and it stabs into him. It doesn't go in far, but just enough to stun him so that I can begin BEATING THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF HIM. And I do just that. His trendy, modern rug is now red and bohemian. His carpet, if bleached properly, should retain a nice pink shade. And his skull... well... I don't think there's much we can do about that. Unless... I can see it now. A museum exhibit. "Kids, this is what happens when you get your brains beat out." But just so that the poor sensitive children don't get too frightened we will spare them the image of the brain matter blood combo painting the walls. Interesting, the individual sprays of blood resemble a sponging technique.
Very chic.
My heart's pounding fast like the rush of a Tim McVeigh-esque case of insanity, and wow, my arm does hurt. Who knew beating someone to death could be so tiring? I step into the kitchen to take a break. I even attempt to pretend I haven't done it yet. I open the fridge and pull out the redi-whip. It's a cheap thrill, but a thrill nonetheless. Inhaling viral pathogens from my whipped cream can really illustrates the point that danger is found everywhere. Honestly, whipped fucking cream? Gee, I guess we'll never escape the sickness. To further my point, I'm certain I've now contracted gangrene in my lymph system and heroin has lost its wicked appeal. I've also got STDs in my fucking brain. They rot, and itch, and ooze. They breed psychological problems for me. They caused me to do this.
I would never have killed him if he hadn't driven me to it.
And like a divine wind I am stricken by the desire to be deprogrammed like a t-cell, though I'd undoubtedly be turned into a silver bullet and shot back into my own body. Karma karma karma.
Now I know how Nixon felt, but it really means nothing in the long run.
And he was getting to be mighty expensive on the folks. Maybe they'll thank me when they see how low his cell phone bill is now.
Only a simple call to 911 will they have to pay for. And the operator, Bev was her name, says: 'ten minutes, honey, we'll be there in ten minutes...' Ten minutes left ten minutes left ten FUCKING MINUTES LEFT. I guarantee it won't feel like that. More like a fucking ETERNITY. But I suppose it is the way of the world, being forced to wait an eternity to achieve freedom.
Wow, freedom in the form of a nuthouse. Counter intuitivism at its finest. A golden contradiction.
Oh well, at least I've heard the food there's good.
User Reviews
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2007-06-07 08:13:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-10-18 02:37:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It's like Tom Wolfe as a murderer.
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-10-17 19:03:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Eat the cock, lol.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2006-10-17 18:48:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Back, and to the left.
Submitted by viciousness63 (user info) at 2006-10-17 18:41:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm not old enough to have ever voted for Kennedy.
Submitted by ih8u2man (user info) at 2006-10-17 18:40:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Wowzers....I thought you voted for him and everything?
Submitted by viciousness63 (user info) at 2006-10-17 18:39:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Oh god fucking dammit.
Sorry about the picture.