Say some things
 

this thread is about saying some things. the trick is to say them. anyone can type some things. but can you say some things?

then once that is all done, you might want to type the things you said, that way other humans can subscribe to your thoughts. or, at least the thoughts that you were able to say and then type.

i realize that this is a mammoth of a neolithic cavemen might have been cool, especially during glacier timeos but still, and steady and thank you for reading this far do you know how much your average jaguar weighs?

i'll hit another breaker, just for the splash of it.

(i wrote that)

with a turtle smeared against another wall. everyone saw it, and many grew confused. then with a slice on the fungus, some real top liners knew all about reptillian tendencies. (most of which resulted in (

cold blooded, let's look deep.

I'm sorry. I did not know this was a dictated wave.

oh, my re

I wish I had a cave. a nice dark one that stayed the same temperature all year round (and never let light in).

after a few years, my pale skin and bulbous eyes would no longer be able to stand the light of the day.

bats, large spiders and the occasional sympathetic blind fish would sustain me.

these are the things that my dreams are made of.


PS: is that a laden or unladen jaguar? african or european?? the details matter.

it's 11pm, yet I'm going to bed anyways.

boredom consumes me.

jesus fucking christ do i want some chinese food

Kein problem, Auf wiedersehen, Wunderbar!

Danke sehr, bitte sehr, Hah, Sehr guht!

Jawohl, Herr Oberschutze...

Kiss me kiss me kiss me baby I am all yours. i want your cooties.

dun dun DUN dun dun DUN. dun dun da dun dun. DUNA DUN DUN.

darkest gray, the moonlit crag
in shadows, creep and whisper.
fear draws close, clutching nearer
a dream of strangling darkness,
and hands grip, tight in quickness,
bony claws of ice and bone.
tender mercy calls for light,
the heart beats, the crushing life,
desperate; the lonely sky.
the heart longs, the heart pulses;
no other, but for the blood,
that withers, through these veins.

drunk. sayin'

jesus. h. fucking. christ.

I've never seen a

It would not be difficult, Mein Fuhrer... I'm sorry, Mr. President...

Taking a month to build, finishing in June and weighing in at 31 pounds at 2 feet tall is Max the Spanish Speaking Robot (S.S.R.) fitted with a Pentium 120 processor for the speech and face as well as a Board Of Education equipped with a Basic Stamp 2. The Basic Stamp 2 controls the movement via 8 reed relays and some tank treads let this robot move about and as background music Mission impossible was the song all thanks to the help from Daryl and the floppy disk with the song. He states his name, where he is from/built, when he was activated, what he likes to do in good and bad weather as well as give smart remarks about me. He has a 110v cable that carries over 350 watts and a secondary cable for needed power to the tracks. Together they make this robot a talking robot and singing robot.

I think I am in love. But it might be the drugs speaking.

so i was taking my picture in my bathroom out of pure boredom, and this orb thing was floating around my camera screen. my battery died. it was fucking creepy.

some things

maybe everything is how it's supposed to be?