[X] My Assistant

I thought I saw a mouse nearby.

I thought I saw a house nearby.

I thought I saw N04h doing a double post, but now I see twins with the same awful av.

I thought I saw N04h doing a double post, but now I see twins with the same awful av.

That's one of the default forum avatars, actually, you have now insulted Tenboro.

Did I say awful? I meant awfully pretty.

Oh boy! Today I get to agonize over a bassline! Such fun, so glad, kill me.

Though I may be the best qualified, I happily decline your offer, ma'am.

But Why?!

Because I am neither wolf nor sheep. I am a sheepdog.

I'm so glad I don't have to ovulate.

(Interior:
Chapel of Our Highest Mother, twilight
Characters:
Lord Asmodeus Vicamore - Who has been accused of the murder of the Pope and is seeking repentance through prayer.
The Earl of Drasgilles - Who has volunteered to be put in charge of pursuing and bringing Asmodeus to justice for his devious act.
Song:
Fly, Innocence, and Be Free! Duet in the key of D. Asmodeus is a strong Baritone accompanied by woodwinds and bowed instruments to show his innocence, The Earl of Drasgilles in a Tenor, accompanied by brass, timpani, bass and cello to signify his heavy-handedness and simple, yet dark, motivations.)

Asmodeus Vicamore:
"There is a time,
when you see what's been lost,
and you take what is yours from the stars!
I will fly!"

Earl of Drasgilles:
"NO!
I say!
Lord Vicamore, who invited you to this holy chapel?
It is only a fleeting emotion!"

Asmodeus Vicamore:
"That's not true, it can last,
just gotta communicate."

Earl of Drasgilles:
"The memory is stronger than the action."

Asmodeus Vicamore:
"That's some poetic bullshit you just pulled!"

Earl of Drasgilles:
"You'll remember why you didn't like it in the first place."

Asmodeus Vicamore:
"Because it hurt my wiener."

This post has been edited by radixius: Feb 3 2014, 01:11

archon is a great word

Because I am neither wolf nor sheep. I am a sheepdog.

Pretend

That Koa-lookalike-possibly-Koa is really really cute.

Pretend

OK. Let's pretend I was, for a lack of an alternative, ordered to kill off your hubby. With him, being alive, many more lives will be affected and possibly turtured and killed by his tyranny and diabolical plans. There were no other options but to send me to go off him. I would then case where he would live and wait patiently and observe his habits. See where he goes to and fro, his likes, dislikes, when he eats, and even when he poops. I would study his habits like a student nearing his final exams. When I find that opportune time, I would wait patiently as I assemble my M1 bolt-action rifle. I load my single cartrige reloaded personally by me as it would have just the right amount of powder. I'd squeeze the trigger slowly, steadily and deliberately and control my breathing to keep my aim straight and true. When the round does go off, it'll be a surprise to everyone including myself, but all that would be left is just a red mist, an empty shell of a man and just memories for that day, that hour, my target has now ceased to be. That's pretty much it.

OK. Let's pretend I was, for a lack of an alternative, ordered to kill off your hubby. With him, being alive, many more lives will be affected and possibly turtured and killed by his tyranny and diabolical plans. There were no other options but to send me to go off him. I would then case where he would live and wait patiently and observe his habits. See where he goes to and fro, his likes, dislikes, when he eats, and even when he poops. I would study his habits like a student nearing his final exams. When I find that opportune time, I would wait patiently as I assemble my M1 bolt-action rifle. I load my single cartrige reloaded personally by me as it would have just the right amount of powder. I'd squeeze the trigger slowly, steadily and deliberately and control my breathing to keep my aim straight and true. When the round does go off, it'll be a surprise to everyone including myself, but all that would be left is just a red mist, an empty shell of a man and just memories for that day, that hour, my target has now ceased to be. That's pretty much it.

I somehow missed the context for this.

OK. Let's pretend I was, for a lack of an alternative, ordered to kill off your hubby. With him, being alive, many more lives will be affected and possibly turtured and killed by his tyranny and diabolical plans. There were no other options but to send me to go off him. I would then case where he would live and wait patiently and observe his habits. See where he goes to and fro, his likes, dislikes, when he eats, and even when he poops. I would study his habits like a student nearing his final exams. When I find that opportune time, I would wait patiently as I assemble my M1 bolt-action rifle. I load my single cartrige reloaded personally by me as it would have just the right amount of powder. I'd squeeze the trigger slowly, steadily and deliberately and control my breathing to keep my aim straight and true. When the round does go off, it'll be a surprise to everyone including myself, but all that would be left is just a rad mist, an empty shell of a man and just memories for that day, that hour, my target has now ceased to be. That's pretty much it.

FTFY

With my target aligned within my scope after making final adjustments for distance and wind, I steadily and deliberately control my beating heart, relaxing my body and drawing a calm breath to hold as my finger moves to the trigger. I squeeze the trigger slowly but firmly keeping my aim straight and true.

FTFY

Trigger is a code word for penis.

Trigger is a code word for penis.

I was kind of surprised that it wasn't as homoerotic as usual. That one kind of flew over my head.

I would case where he would live and wait patiently and observe his every detail closely. See where he goes to and fro, listen to his likes and dislikes, to know where he eats, and even when he poops. I would study every fiber of his being until it was like we were of one mind. I would prepare myself as I wait for him patiently assembling my long sturdy bolt-action rifle. I prepare my single cartridge load personally and tenderly ensuring just the right amount of powder and not going over the edge. I breathe steadily and rhythmically to calm my fiercely beating heart to focus as I squeeze my trigger firmly, keeping my aim straight and true. When the load explodes forth from the barrel of my gun, it'll be a surprise to everyone including myself. Once my load is spent all that would be left will be an empty shell of a man and the memories of that day, that hour, that moment when my target has now ceased to be. That's pretty much it.

There we go fixed. DAMN maybe I write for the wrong genre.

This post has been edited by EsotericSatire: Feb 4 2014, 07:00

i wonder who prince andrew is

It was totally about penis! What an epiphany! I would totally buy Freud a beer if he so didn't creep me out.