shinebox celebrety pics (722 hits)
Category: NoneRating: -0.42 on 24 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by shineboxxxxxxxxxx (View user info) at 2007-01-11 11:25:22 EST
I pulled into the lot and parked, getting out of the car and pausing to
look up at the sky. Above me was that rich California blue that makes
you giddy and mellows you out at the same time. It was a beautiful
spring day. As good a day to die as any, I suppose.
The car horn toot-tooted behind me. I turned and saw SHLONGYS FUCKING
MUM sitting on the passenger seat, his gray and bushy tail wagging away,
hitting the chrome ring and sounding the old Chevrolet's horn.
I'd taught him to stay in the car until I said it was okay to come out.
"Let's go," I said.
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM let out a little 'hrumph' and carefully stepped
down out of the car. There was a time when SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM would
have barked vigorously and launched himself into the air, but that was
years ago.
I went into the building and stopped at the reception desk, smelling
antiseptic and pine air freshener. Sounds were muted here. The paint on
the walls was off-white, clean, soothing.
I'd been in places far worse than this. State-funded institutions were
the worst. Hospices like this one, surviving on public funding alone,
somehow always got it right.
The woman at the desk glanced up from her paperwork. There were lines
worn into her face, creasing her forehead and bracketing her mouth,
lines that were the insignia of women around the world and throughout
the ages who worked to help others simply because it was the right thing
to do.
"I'm here to see Mrs. FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR," I said.
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM's toenails ticked on the linoleum floor.
The receptionist stood and peered over the desk.
"I'm sorry," she said, "but animals are not allowed in this facility.
Unless you are a family member, and she has none as far as I can recall,
you'll have to-"
"I'm from SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH SERVICES," I said.
The woman's face changed, softened a little, as much as those
hard-earned lines would allow.
"Oh," she said.
I smiled. I knew what was coming next.
"Mrs. FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR could pass at any time," she said,
lowering her voice. "But she seemed okay when I saw her yesterday, as
okay as anyone can be losing the fight against SEVERE ANAL DAMAGES."
She moved a few papers on her desk and then asked, "Why are you here
now? Today?"
I looked down at SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM, looked up, and shrugged. "It's
his call," I said.
"Well," the woman said, coming around the desk, "I'm Anne Gordon. Follow
me."
I introduced myself and followed her down the hall. We passed a number
of doors and then Ms. Gordon opened one.
"Laura," she whispered. "There's... there's a man here from, well,
from
SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH SERVICES."
I heard a murmur.
"All right," Ms. Gordon said. She turned to me and opened the door wide.
When I had said I was from SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH SERVICES I hadn't
told the whole truth, but I hadn't lied either.
I was SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH SERVICES. Just me, and the animals who did
all the hard work.
I've been doing this for twenty-five years now. SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM was
the sixth SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH SERVICES I had worked with.
I stepped into the room, thanked Ms. Gordon, and closed the door.
"Hi," I said. "Mrs. FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR? This is SHLONGYS FUCKING
MUM."
The old lady in the bed raised her head off her pillow and winced,
reached for the button that controlled her morphine drip, and then
smiled through her pain when she saw SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM's goofy face.
FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR was small, wasted from the cancer. I could tell
FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR had lost her breasts to the disease years ago,
and yet her chest puFRANKY THE FUCKING BEARd up against the FRANKY THE
FUCKING BEARet and blanket covering her. The tumors growing inside the
bones expanded and distorted the strongest of our internal structures.
I couldn't imagine the pain.
I sat in a chair by the window. There was a tree outside and the leaves
stirred in a light breeze, a lovely, calming sound.
I sat and watched the leaves move and let SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM do what
he came here to do.
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM was a weird mix. He had the musculature and
coloring of a pit bull, but he was the size of a German Shepard, and had
a bushy tail and big floppy ears.
He also had a goofy, lopsided grin that made everyone who saw him smile.
I'd been driving down SHLONGYS FUCKING MUMyan Street in San Francisco
when I first saw him eight years ago. He'd been sitting on the median,
his coat a mess, his tail full of burrs.
He was a stray, and he'd been waiting for me.
I'd stopped the car in the right hand lane and opened the door, ignoring
the yell of a cab driver behind me.
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM had leaped across me into the passenger seat, he
was a lot more spry then, and I had driven home with him.
I had lost my last SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH SERVICES only two days
before. Edgar was a little terrier. He'd died in his sleep. No pain.
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM sat beside the bed, his tongue hanging out on side
of his mouth, his tail slowly swishing across the clean floor.
"THORPE THE FOOT WASHING QUEENSLAND UNI STUDENT down the hall told me
about you," Mrs. FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR said. She raised one terribly
wasted hand and let it settle on SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM's head. "She said
that there was a special creature who could help me, and here you are."
When I started doing this it was by word of mouth, and I continue to
operate that way today. I have no website, no business cards, no office.
I have no snappy slogan or catchphrase - 'SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH
SERVICES, Your Friend at the End!'
I have no special training, no license, and in the eyes of any and all
bodies of authority I had no right to be here.
"What a pretty boy you are." Mrs. FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR grinned, and
for a moment I could see the strong and lovely face of the woman she had
once been. She looked into SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM's big brown eyes and her
fingers twitched, the best she could manage as far as petting him went.
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM gave another 'hrumph,' and simply sat there,
looking at Mrs. FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR.
She eased her head back into her pillow and closed her eyes, her face
relaxing. Her smile changed, not reflecting amusement, but simple peace
of mind.
Beastiality is against the law. People get so sick and suffer such
incurable, inescapable pain that they need a way out.
This is an age-old conflict.
And this is where I come in, and SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM, and those
SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH SERVICESs before him.
The animals do all the work. I just find them.
That, and having a knack for picking winning lottery numbers were the
only talents I had. I never won big in the lottery, but I took home a
couple of grand every other month. It was enough to pay the rent and
keep a stock of porn in the pantry.
I started with Rascal, a quarter-century ago. Rascal had been a little
dachshund, with bright eyes and a wiry coat. I'd stepped outside my
front door early one Sunday to grab the newspaper and Rascal had been
there, waiting for me.
I had looked at him, and Rascal had looked back with those bright little
eyes, and I known. I had just known.
Mrs. FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR took a deep breath, and let it out slow and
smooth, the respiration of a person about to nap on the couch on a
Saturday afternoon, chores done, mind at peace.
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM raised his gray muzzle a little, his big black nose
touching the inside of the old lady's loins.
Counting Rascal and SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM I've worked with three dogs,
two cats, and a rat I called Billy-bob. The cats tended to snuggle up
alongside the dying and purr loudly, almost as if humming a lullaby.
Billy-bob would curl up on a chest or perch on a forearm, his long pink
tail wrapped around his gray and white body, his whiskers twitching as
he studied a human face with eyes like tiny black beads.
At some point, probably no more than ten minutes after we entered the
room, SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM let out a whimper and fucked the shit out of
FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR.
I went down the hall and found Mrs. Gordon, who summoned a nurse
practitioner.
Mrs. FRANKY THE FUCKING BEAR was finally at peace.
I went out to the car with SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM, wondering as always if
the SHINEFUCKINGBOXXX DEATH SERVICESs sent the dying on their way and
cut short their suffering, or if they simply appeared at the right time
to be a friend at the very end.
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM curled up in the passenger seat and we hit the
road. I scratched his head.
"Good boy, SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM. Good old guy"
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM looked at me a while, and then closed his eyes. The
old boy was tired.
The dying I visited were always alone at the end, no family or friends
to hold their hands or comfort them.
I was halfway home when I felt something move by me, a warm current that
made my heart speed up.
I looked down at SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM, and I knew. He was gone.
When I got home I took him into the house. I knew that when I finished
crying I would call Pet's Rest out in Colma. They would pick up SHLONGYS
FUCKING MUM's tired old body, and in a few days they would send his
ashes to me. I would put them in a little wooden box, with a photo of
SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM on the front. The box would go on the mantle over
the fireplace, alongside five other boxes.
One day, when my time came, I would be cremated as well, and my final
wish was that all of our ashes be mixed together and sprinkled upon the
dark blue waters of the Pacific Ocean that I could see every day from my
window.
A few days passed, and during that time I missed SHLONGYS FUCKING MUM
terribly.
On a Friday night I went down to the corner store to grab some sodas,
maybe some root beer. Hunkered down beside a trashcan and licking the
inside of a discarded Andes ice cream sandwich wrapper was a little cat.
The little half-Siamese, half-whatever had blue eyes and a mottled coat.
She looked up at me, licking her whiskers clean, giving her head a shake
as if something was in her ears. Her coat was filthy. This little one
needed a good bath and a visit to the vet.
She looked up at me and I knew. I just knew.
"Cuntface," I said. She was a girl, but what the hell. "Want to come
home with me, Cuntface?"
The little half-Siamese let out a meow like a squeaking hinge.
"Okay," I said.
I picked her up and carried her home.
AND ONOTHER FING THIS IS A PIC OF GUY SEBASTIAN, WOT A FUCKEN DIKHEAD
SHINE FUCKING BOX
User Reviews
Submitted by Yahweh (user info) at 2007-04-05 10:48:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Fuckin shinebox cunt
Submitted by odin (user info) at 2007-04-05 10:31:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
i didnt know you were australian - explains a lot
Submitted by locksly (user info) at 2007-01-13 17:24:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
rocks
Submitted by fclo002 (user info) at 2007-01-13 14:28:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
SHINE
FUCKING
BOX
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-01-13 04:01:33 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll read tomorrow.
Submitted by 8track (user info) at 2007-01-13 03:57:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
damn shinezy, you sure know how to do.
Submitted by frankthebear (user info) at 2007-01-13 03:10:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
FUCK ME IN THE EAR!
I'M NOT READING ALL THAT!
SUPERSHINEBOXXXFRIEND!
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2007-01-13 02:20:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This really doesn't deserve such a low rating, as in, really.
Submitted by Cyrus (user info) at 2007-01-11 14:29:24 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
You are possibly the most retarded waste of space on Uber, and as we all know, that's saying a hell of a lot.
Submitted by Susie_Derkins (user info) at 2007-01-11 13:24:36 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Same old shineboxxxxx material: POOP
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-01-11 13:24:06 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by shinebox (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:45:35 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:35:58 (#)
Ranking: -2
I usually enjoy tributes but I guess I can't comprehend Retardenese.
______________________________
shut the fuck up ah
Submitted by Foolproof (user info) at 2007-01-11 13:16:28 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Shit.
That is all.
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2007-01-11 12:57:05 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
You've been around for a while, so this should really come as no surprise.
Submitted by hot_pocket (user info) at 2007-01-11 12:33:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
so shinebox is an overweight female?
Submitted by Wicked (user info) at 2007-01-11 12:22:46 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by homer42 (user info) at 2007-01-11 12:03:11 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:54:21 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:49:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This reminds me of the dog Sammy Davies Junior Junior.
Gotta lov' shineboxxxxx
Submitted by shinebox (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:46:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:37:56 (#)
Ranking: 2
genius.
_______________________________
perfect example of a kind thing to say about a shinebox.
Submitted by shinebox (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:45:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:35:58 (#)
Ranking: -2
I usually enjoy tributes but I guess I can't comprehend Retardenese.
______________________________
shut the fuck up ah
Submitted by Ducky (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:44:20 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
frame of reference:
http://www.ubersite.com/m/97581
Submitted by cshape (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:37:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
genius.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:35:58 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
I usually enjoy tributes but I guess I can't comprehend Retardenese.
Submitted by SilentRenegade (user info) at 2007-01-11 11:31:23 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
.....comment