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Friends of
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Damn the Torpedo, full
spew ahead!--5/2/01 continued
from front page
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Hello Kiddies-
Low and behold the dramatic pause...........................
When it’s all over, when you’ve final blown the
wad, secreted the special sauce, knocked out the
nugget, fired the phlegm, you realize it wasn’t
all that it was cracked up to be. You kind of bathe
in this moment of stupidity that you let yourself
get
so animal and out of control. All to make sure
that you were forwarding your species, but hey I
just launched my load onto a paper towel on my kitchen
table. My pants were down around my ankles,
bare ass hanging out for anyone who could get a
look crossways in my window. I wasn’t on a
crusade to repopulate the planet. I was beating
off. I don’t know why I do it. You get yourself
so worked up for what? For Nothing! You get yourself
going scouring the internet for filthy pictures,
rifling through the pages of the most foul magazines,
all for what? So you can pretend that you
are gonna man your torpedo into a birth hole. That
is what it is all about. Trees don’t let out spores
and pine cones cause it’s fun, they do it to grow
more trees. So why are we so cursed? You
don't see squirrels up in a tree, smelling other
squirrels panties, beating off into a brawny
towel, it just doesn’t happen. So why did we get
so fucked up? I know so many people who waste gallons
of baby batter over the course of a lifetime for
the absolute point of nothing. I mean we have
tricked our brain into buying into the fact that
we are fucking by funneling our hand into he shape
of a twat and then fucking it. In our head we continue
the lie by display the footage that we have associated
with what our dream score would be. We don’t start
poundin the patriot thinking, man.... I would love
to make a baby with my hand, no we have some bizarre
thought of being tied to a radiator and having some
chick walk on our back with spiked heels or stretching
our balls out like drapes while they spank us
for being bad, being bad at what, getting laid?
What is the deal with this trash? I remember
telling myself I will never do it again, it is wrong.
I take my piles of magazines to the trash, and I
wipe out my cyber-cache of images. I am clean. And
for a day I pursue more lofty goals, I get out the
want ads, I clean the house, and then I get bored,
all it takes is one pump of blood from your heart
to your shorts and the whole nightmare starts all
over, you are back to filling up tube socks with
the specimen de jour. I can’t quite make out why
we fool ourselves into believing that we will feel
better after we drain our spunk. It makes no practical
sense. Well, I started writing because I was bored
waiting for this download of a chick taking it in
all 3 holes...........so hence the dramatic pause,
I think I am gonna go. Hope
there are more paper towels. And I hope
tomorrow, I clean up my act.
Now, Fuck All Y'all!
Lumpy The
Clown
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