Write something random

Welcome to my underground brothel

What takes your fancy?

I have every type of sin catered for

Yes those velvety badgers are as delicious as you think they are

Even more so

The taste of a well ripened badger pussy is delectable 

I think you will agree my friend

Cheers

qft that's after you edited it

#include <stdio.h>
#include <stdlib.h>
#include <time.h>

void main () {
    srand((unsigned int)(time(NULL)));
    char char1[] = "abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ0123456789/,.-+=~`<>: ";
    
    for(int i=0; i<rand() % RAND_MAX; ++i){
        printf("%c", char1[rand() % (sizeof char1-1)]);
    }
}

The cure for cancer is a biologic drug derived from retarded platypus penis cells but scientists are too embarrassed to admit how they concluded this, so here we are. 

The cure for cancer is a biologic drug derived from retarded platypus penis cells but scientists are too embarrassed to admit how they concluded this, so here we are. 

careful guys, two citations in enough to appear on huffington post.

For right or wrong. The platypus tank in Sydney Aquarium is well excellent. Just thought I'd let you know.

careful For guys, right two or citations wrong in The enough platypus to tank appear in on Sydney huffington Aquarium post.

. is well excellent

Plagiarism

Play Jah Riddim

Play Yer Jizzm

when i close my eyes i see one eye in the dark void staring back at me

It’s time for bed.

 Earlier today I daydreamed about meeting a coven of vampires on a deserted Autumnal beach somewhere on the Pembrokeshire coastline. The tide was coming in, and as the skies fell into a squid ink shade of dark the covens white eyes and chattering sharp teeth began glowing bright like distant camp fires. As the cold tide was rising, we talked about our pasts and they took flight above me, circling in high speed like spiralling kites in panic on the rising sea breeze. But they never killed me, they glinted and smiled and just disappeared on the great drifts of wind. I can still hear the ebbing cacophony of their chaos ringing in my ears. My horizon is clear and I sleep safely.

Do you?

Aside from the medical aspects - snoring not only keeps the non-sleeper up but it also mocks the non-sleeper. 

One time I left a store with some new dress clothes in a bag. A homeless guy inquired: “hey uhh can I eat that are you gonna eat that?” And I was like no, it’s not food. He replies “what are you buying clothes? Fuckin’ faggot!” 
 

So I imagined him winning the lottery, binging on steak and lobster, popping bottles of champagne, doing lines of blow off a high class call girl’s taint on his yacht in Tahiti... all in a years-of-piss encrusted jacket with shit dried in its sherpa lining, pants covered in cigarette burn holes, and floppy old boots, yellow hair, etc. Everyone has their own priorities, it seems. 

One time I left a store with some new dress clothes in a bag. A homeless guy inquired: “hey uhh can I eat that are you gonna eat that?” And I was like no, it’s not food. He replies “what are you buying clothes? Fuckin’ faggot!” 
 

So I imagined him winning the lottery, binging on steak and lobster, popping bottles of champagne, doing lines of blow off a high class call girl’s taint on his yacht in Tahiti... all in a years-of-piss encrusted jacket with shit dried in its sherpa lining, pants covered in cigarette burn holes, and floppy old boots, yellow hair, etc. Everyone has their own priorities, it seems. 

  On 9/28/2020 at 12:43 AM, dingformung said:

One time I left a store with some new dress clothes in a bag. A homeless guy inquired: “hey uhh can I eat that are you gonna eat that?” And I was like no, it’s not food. He replies “what are you buying clothes? Fuckin’ faggot!” 
 

So I imagined him winning the lottery, binging on steak and lobster, popping bottles of champagne, doing lines of blow off a high class call girl’s taint on his yacht in Tahiti... all in a years-of-piss encrusted jacket with shit dried in its sherpa lining, pants covered in cigarette burn holes, and floppy old boots, yellow hair, etc. Everyone has their own priorities, it seems. 

Expand  

What is this madness

D̷͈̯̻̐̈̈̑͘͝e̵̩͚̪͌u̷̱͚̭̱̹̽̂͑̈́́́s̶̖̩̲͇͍͑͛̉̆̋͜͠͝ e̴̦̩̬͙͉͋̋̏͜͝x̷̧̱̱̰͂̓͠ ḿ̸̪͖̹̣͕͕̂̔̽̚̕ͅa̷̧̨̛̟̱͖̣̥̩̹̝̍̓c̸͍̺͍͕͉̺̟̲̦̊͊̃̾̒͠h̴͖̅̌̈́͆ḯ̴͓̰͎͍ň̸͖̤̰̃̇͒a̴̙͓̘̣͚̹̭̮̍̃

M̴͚̟̻̞̬̩̱͝i̸̢̢̺͎̠̻͙̜̗͎̽̍̄s̸̹̗̼̮͎̅̊̒̾̇̐̉͝s̸̥̫͌̎́͒à̸̢̎̔͗̔̇̃̚t̶̲͈̆͜g̶̢̨̅̃͌̓̃̈́̇͘͠ę̴̹̌͐̓͊ o̶̼̎̈́̕c̷͍͕̘̝̳̙͓̻̠͜͝u̴̙͈̫͇̩̱͈͗̽͊̑̃̓̊͑̚l̶̡̨̞̫̯̒͊̀̇͊̌͒t̶͔͓̙͎͔͈̰̓̾̀̇͒̌̕ f̴̧͕͉̪̰̠̓̑̌a̶̪̻͙̱͑́̊̾̓̈́͋̐̂͒l̸̡͈͉̩̹̪̙̜̫͕̄͐͛̓̂͊s̴̨̖͕̪̫̼͖̣̠͍̊̀̅͆͛̇͘ s̵̨̛̞̱͌͛̍͘͝ȉ̴͚̘̦̰̦̭͎̠̰ b̴͚̲̳̜̰͊̉̈́é̴͍̪̖̪̹̫͇̑̿̍͊̇͑̔̆̃̕ c̸̨͇̜͚̠̻̓͘ą̵̙̤̗̭̈͒̑̄͒͋̓͜d̷̘̏͑͌̂̐͗̓͗ą̶̱͔͔͈̋͗̈́͘ v̶̜̱͇͚̍̔͐̾̉́̈́͘̕͜͝ę̴̳̬̞͖͖͎̼̤̈̍͐̈́̊͛͛͠g̷̛̖̱͔̠͙̬̫̥̖̓̐̅͝ͅȧ̸̡̟̹̖͔͎̎̾d̵̲̣͓̤̔̚͜͠ả̵̳͔̖̘̹̟̺͗́̎̌̆͝ m̵̧͎̲͙̼̻͚̰̣͊̅̌̊͑̑̏͜͠͠͠é̷̢̲̟̳̣̱͔̞̼̪́͐ś̵̖̬͒̈́͆̋ s̸̢̛̞̹̙̑̍̃̀̓ǫ̴͇͂̏̀͊̈́͋̎̈́͝͝l̸̡̥̞̩̬̺̟̻͒̀̔̎̏̄͊̆̓͠ͅi̴̝̫͚̖͚͙̤̍͛ͅt̵͔̱̻̥͇̺̘͔̝̔̈́̚͜ä̸̺͈́̿̾̀͛́͑̋͌ŗ̶̨̢͍̣̻̹̳̐͑i̷̬̙̋̉̒,̴͙̫̼͍̘͇͂̉͗ ę̵̮͍̮͚̋l̸͙͇̰̱̬̜̦͎̣̖͊̈́̐̿̓͊̕o̴̮̱̺͙͖̬̞̙̭͛̌͛̆̔̉̒̕͜c̵̢̛̟͚͍̞̜̥̥̉̄͝ȕ̷̧̩͈͉̹͚̫͉̯͜ȩ̶̩̔̂̆̾̏́̃́͘ņ̴͕͚͙̫̰̣͊̀̃̌͗͗̉̕͝ţ̷̛̲̫̹̜̙̞͚̯̣͛̿̄́͌ a̷͔̰̼͉͓͍͈̪̙̔̒̾͆̒̍̚ l̵̢̦̖̲̟̈͐͋̽ͅa̵̛̦̺̱̫͈̪̹͎̰͉͂̈́̉͒̎̈́̌̚ ţ̶̻̯̙̮͈͖͕̍͐͜͠ẻ̴̯͙̞̯̬ȑ̴̨̩͍̬͖̍̌̾̂͆ͅc̴͓͕̙̩̪̜͓̣̓͌ͅê̸͔̹̲͚̰̤̣̳̋̾̅͌̾͒̏͝ř̵̩̀͛̆̿̅̑̇̕͘a̶̼̖̟̩͊̃̓̓ ṕ̸̡͎̬̹͔̄͌a̷̧̛̠͖͍̼̰͚͂̆̓̓̔́͠r̸͎͚̟̃́̍̒͛̏a̵̲͈̘̤̪̣͋̓̾͌͊͗͆͑̾͝ũ̷̩̊͑̓̈́̓̕͠l̷̤̼̩͔̤̦̱͊̀̚a̴̙͈͙͌.̷̛͚̝̖͉̅́̓͠
Ä̴̬͈́̀͗͐̋̚͝͝v̵̢̦̦̫͇̖͉̜̹̅̅́̆̃̈́̋̐̒͜ú̴̢̻̮̘̯̿̈́͆͝i̴̭͈̻͒̆ ơ̶͇̫̇̐̽̀̅͒̔̍͘p̸̩̜͕̪̾̌̓̃o̴̡͎̱͕̓̕͜͝s̵̡̛̫͚͔̼͙̍́͋̑̃͝͝i̷̧̛̜̱͙͉͖̳̻͑ć̸̪͌̆̆̈́̈̀̃͘ị̴͚̖̘̞͐́ó̸͓̣̮͍̇̄͋͌̋͗̇͂͆̈́͜ f̸̯̜̠͚̪̓̽̐͌͂̍͆̋͋͝r̶͇̺̣̭̂̐̉͆͛ö̷̝̜̘̟̦͗͌̆́̈́̍̇̓͜͠n̴͇̜̘̼̣̬͍͒͛t̷̪̲͇͕̐̉̔̂̐͂͗͒͊̓a̵̛̞̬͝l̷̺̪̱̟͔͎̥̓̅ ȁ̷̡̛̛̜̹̬̯͔̗̈́͑͋̾̓̓̆ļ̷̡̳̰̝͈̣̘̦̌̂͂͘͜͠ ṭ̸̡̢̙̣̘̤̖̟̀͒̿͆͜͝ë̵̲͉̥̝̤̰̯̻̹́͠à̴̢̬̬̙̞̀͊̈́t̷͙̙̓r̸̜̘̱̓̓̀͐̓͌̊̕͠ę̸̗̊͑̏͐̐͝ i̸̮̫̘̖͐̊̔͗̎̊̅̚ d̷̙͓͍͙̍̒̈́͆̍ȩ̷̢͈̹̤̰̜̟̬̃̆͆̃́̕m̵̨̬̗̮̤͇̩̐͌ͅà̴̡̙̼̱̩͓͇͇̦̑̋͜,̶̧̡̩͉̦̻̌̆͋͗͗̀͠͝ͅͅ á̷̳͚̣̟̯͓ͅḿ̴̡́͆̂̅̕͝b̷̞̾̑̈́͐ ḽ̵̨͎̔͌̀̈́̃a̵̡̲̳̘̱̎͐̋̋͂͛̐̕͝ v̴̢̙͉͉̠̹̹̩͉͠ị̸̧̉̑c̷̰̯͕̠͕͙͚͜͝ṭ̴͖̞͓̞͊̅̌̓ọ̵̧̢̧̡̘̒̍̅̔̑̉̆͗͛̑r̷̟̪̩̱͋̅̅̈́̓͝ͅį̶̮̯̣̜̳̩̫̑́̍͗͑̚ͅͅḁ̴̫̗̜̪̝̪͚̬̔̄͒͛̔̄̀͆̓̆ d̵̠͕̝͚̼͈̟͆ḛ̷͕̯̜̞̥̗̣̈́̀͆͛s̴̥̠̩̝̦̊̎͆̌͆̽̉͜͝c̶̗̬͖͕̦͍͓̖̿͑͑͂̒̌͗̃̈́a̷̬̺͍̓̋̌́͛̽̐̌̎͘ņ̵͍͕̦̞̥̻͉͕̂̀̔͆̈́́͌̄̀̚s̵̨̛̠̭͖̣͖̄̅̽̋͛̕͜ͅa̶̧̞̲͈̠̻̭̥̱̥̎̀͆͒͊̐͠ŗ̴̯͓̩͚̪̬̹̠̲͐͗á̶̛͓͙͂̊̓̈́̑͒͆͘ş̴͉̬̘͋̾̉̌̏͊͂̂̊͗ s̷̥̗͖̟͛̾̐̓̑͛̃̑͜ò̷̢̖̼͖̥̮̹̒b̵̩͓̟̱̘̙̼̩͂͂̈́͑̀̄̀͊͜͝ṙ̵̪̭͇͇̑͑͝e̴̼̾̅͛͋̚ l̴̜̲͚̗̥͇̈́á̸̺͘ ţ̵̛̹͍̼̳͓̂̒̃̅ẹ̷͇͉̽̂͘ͅv̵̢̢͙͇͕̫̙͎̹͐á̴̧̨̡͖͓̰̞͎̘̋̚͜ á̵̢̫̰̒̃͝n̷̘͈̓̌̈́͋̈́̄͑̽̕i̵̛͕̱̟̺̍m̸̡͔̫̖̙̹̓͂ͅa̸̢̛̞̱̟͉͗̓͋̓̚͝.̵̢̺̘͉̼̊
A̶͖̦͚͖̤̳̅̓q̵̝̗̫͛͒̏̄͆͜u̷̗̲̟̠͖̩̺̍̾̀͊̐͗̓͌ȩ̸̝̼̭̖̺͖̙͙͉̿́̍͛́̉͌̚͝s̷̨̡̜̩̘͉͈̣͌̒͒͗͝͝t̸͖̒͋̑̋͂ m̴̧̝̰͔͖͈̊͗́̄͗̃͜͠a̶̭̟̯͐̇͛̚ģ̵͓̦̥̩̝̙̒̉̋̋̍͌̐́̚n̸̨̦̼̫̘͙͗̀͊͜͜e̵̤̜͔̼̥͇̟͓̪̾̚ͅt̶̛̥̟̝͉͉͔͉͎̞͆̒́̆̊́̈́̈́͜͝i̵̖̤̣͆̅͊̍̚̚̕s̶̫̥̮͍͙̒̆̓m̸̲͌ė̶̘̬̺̥̗̭̯̯̹̃́̄́͝ n̶͇̻͕͕̱̤͙͌̐̈́̈́͆̄̃̓͠o̴̹̗̺̩̱͂̀̋̃̔̚͜͠ t̵̢̠̳̟̓ř̵̡̥̩̖̖͇̜͕̞͇͠ǫ̵̥̯̻͙̹̬͚̓͊͂͛̿͜͜͝͝b̷̰̲̳̠͕̥̽̀̀̇̾́̂̏̋͑͜ą̴̻͎͈̻̤̤̿̚ŕ̸̜̆̎̀̓̂̍͛á̸̙̦̌͒́͛́̈́̐͛̚͝ ę̵͍̺̬̖̝͖̾̈͒̔͘͠͝ͅs̵̢̗͈̙̣̠͚̻̪̱̓̍̂̓̐͝c̷̬̹̤̯͍̽̃̾͝a̵̧͍̬͔͚̭͑͊̐͂̎́̑̓͘ḻ̴̢̦̫̮̱͗̉̂̓͘͘͠f̴̡̧̼̩͉̗̦͍͖̦͗̆̓o̷̬̠̦͖͈̖͛͒̀́̚͘̕͜r̷̢͕͓̹̥̤͕͍̪̫̐̐͛͑̓̃̃̽ i̶͈̟̯̻̺̝̅͝ a̸̬̱͙̖̺͚̦̮͐͂̉m̶̹̦̼̾̇̊̌͗̾͛̚̕͝ơ̷̖̆̓̀̋̓͠r̸̗̟̤̲̖͐,̷̩̘͉̥͉̆ ḽ̶̛͙͌͑̎̚l̸̠̭̲̀̆͂͘͠͝ͅạ̵̧̜̳͙̙͂̈́̋͒̓͠v̸͈̝̥̥̜̼̈̾͑͒̇̾ö̸̲̩́r̸̳͕̺͍͈̂̔͊́̍ś̶̢͕̺̚ l̴͉̝̰̲̻̰̟̯̥̃͠a̷̳̲̞͓̙͓̳̫̠̍̋ b̴̨͖͚̭̪͔̪̟͖̯͆͛̓̈a̶̛̦̓̃͛l̷̙̖͎̮̇͐̑̄͗͌̅͝ȃ̶̧̻̓̈̈́̽̈͗ń̵̨̹͓̦̠̓̾͜ç̵̨̡̮͔͕̠̦͕̪̉̇a̸͕̬͖͌̐͊̊̊̇͝ b̵̠̬̰̰͔̖̜͕̯͆̂͌̇͊̚͠ų̵̲͍͔̘̟̥̇͜ͅs̴̢̟͔̼̝̪̠͜͝c̸̛͙͍̉̋̐̉͆̔̚͝͝a̷̳͐̾̇͝r̶̡̦̜̻̫̳͕͛̂á̸̢̮̺̹̦̗́ l̸̬͎̞̩̝͍̗̤̾̇̏͊͌̌͝ͅa̶̮̮͎͌̐̒̋̐ g̷̛̼̤͕̠͇͈̖͍͚̍͒ř̷͉͇͙̝̞̞̦̻̏̌̀̐́̕͝͝ą̶̥̻̥̰̖̮̖̌̐̎̌̾͗͂v̸̧̨͙̥͂̇̊͊͆̈̆ė̸͕͙͈͎́̔̊̑͒̑̚̚t̸̪͔̗̪̩̙̻͔̦̰͛͛̂̏̎̒ẫ̵̢̛̝̳͚̺͔͓̙̗͍͆̒͐̈́͠t̴̨̗͓͐͆͝.̴̞͕̭̇͛͂
L̷͓̬̈́̆̋a̷̢̪̱̤͇͍͔̳̎̐́̀̀ m̶͉̦͖̝͍̞̈́͌͛ȧ̶̺͈͐̄̀̂͠ś̴͚̟͓̫̔̆̃͘̕͜a̷̜̣̗͐͋̀ͅ t̴̠̼̻̲̜͛́̅̎̾̌̌̄͠͝o̵̠͑͆͝ṛ̶̮̝̹͉͎͉̱̘͚͊̔͛ń̴͖̋a̷̧̪͐͂r̷̡̨̠̻̟̳̜͓̝̒̃͊̉à̴͖̲͎͉̿̓̏́͋͐ u̸̫̻͍͈̭̬͌́̔͊̒n̵̙͉͓̙͝ͅǎ̷̖̌̌͌̑̎̿̋̿͝ i̵̢̻̝͑̇̓ ä̷̧̡̢̗͖̥̙̼̗͇́̈̀ḽ̷̳̫̎͆t̷̪̜̬̩̩̗̠̑̀͗͜r̶͕͈͇̤̼̂̏̔̆͐̀͊̀̃e̶̡̫͍͖̩̤̦̥͈̜̎̏ v̶̬̯̖͓̯̓̋̈́͋̆́̒̌̕͜͠e̸̪̦̺̱̮̼͒g̷͙̓̽͌̉̿͒̿͘â̶̺̪͚͈͕̤̹̭̆͒̿̈́̒̋͝ḑ̵̟̜͓̈́̃̈́̓̈́̿̋̈̌â̴̢̛̳̤̟̲͇͈̠̬͒̐̓̀͝͠ a̷̧̢͇̳̝̻̱̝̩̍̏̉̓͆̀ ḻ̸̡̫̲̝͙̉͌͠'̸̝̭̯̺̖̱̬͇̖́̂͋̌̂͋̓̔̀a̶̼̦̲̬͓̮̜͉̘̖͛̿̊́͋̍͂̏͘̕f̵̙͇͋̒̇̈́͝ę̸͉͈̗̻̱̪̰̉̏͋̈́̍̊̌̃̚̕͜c̴̛̱̱͍͚̝̭̥̭͙̱̏̀̈́̍̈́̚͝ẗ̵͇̝̼͖́͑̋̕ě̶͔̫̫̩͛̈́̂͆̃͌͘͝ į̶͎͍̈̿͌̎̂̕͝ c̵̜̠͖̜͈̰̆͛͐̈́̈́̌̆̚ṏ̷͇̗͙͆́̐͂̒̊́͝m̵͕̭͓̝̀̔̈̅͝ͅp̶̨̡̦̟̺͑̒͊̋̒̏͐ḁ̷̜̥̲͖̗͍̝̝́͛̈́̆́͒͌̅͊͘͜s̵͉͉̀̉͘͝s̶̥͚͔̬̒͛́͑̈́̇̾͂̐̕ḯ̴̛͉̼͉̰̗̪̲̤͆́̒̉͒ͅó̶̘̺̻̫̋̑̒͝,̴̘̘̣͈̲͓̟̪̬̍͛͗̾̽́͊̉͐͝ d̵̮̳͓͔̠̥̺̺̯̳͂̿̾̀̚ę̷̡̛̮͓̰̥̰̻̌̈͆͗̔̃͂͊͜s̶̼̳͔̤̣͓̠͗́͘p̷̲̜̼͔̗̩̤̌̌̍̀r̸̨̲̘̫̹̰̐͒̇̓͋̓̂́̋é̶͙̔̃̉̈̉̊̎͝s̴̡̻̘̼̗͚̠̟̼̑̔͘̕ ḓ̷̮̰͔̞͇̼̘̦̋̏̉ȩ̴͎̳̿͋̈̽͗̂̓ p̵̢̘̘̞̰͚͈̠͓͂̃̉̓͝a̸͎̹̫̮̝͍̔͌̏̎̑̔̀͗͠s̴̨̖̯̪͔̩̑s̸̳͓̦͗͆́͋͒͆̐̋e̵̢̐̍j̵̧̳͕͔͍̈̈̚a̴̫̟̪̝̤̮̘̙̞͍̐ṟ̸͋͋̎̕ p̷̡̡̻̈́͗̍̅̍̓̒̃͜͝ê̴̛̻͔̣̤̲̫̮͙̂̿̇̍̊͘r̴̙̲̳͐̅̏͊͆ ļ̵̤̠̲̹̥͕͍̊̌̏̇͂͘͠ͅ'̵̣̬̜̟̥̲̜͑͐̈̅í̸̢̳̾̆͒̕n̶͚͔͓̜̮̜̘̖̞̬̏͒̓͋f̵̧̢̼̻̲̬̘̣̩̽̒͆͒̿ͅę̸̧͎̲̻͔̑̄̂͗̎̒ͅȑ̸̛͔͋͑̀̓̔͒̎͘n̵̯̻̊̎̽̀̃̋̄͆͠.̸̮̌́̑̇͗͛̃̇̃͜
J̵̜̍̀̓o̶̧̭̟̗̙͆͂̃͌̃̕ s̷̘̤̺̺̯͎͉̯̻̋͆͝é̸̯̑̍̌͐́̾̆ q̵͕̰͕̳̩̇͒̏̎u̸̫̩̬̥̦͚̰͋̂̋̀̑̎̓́̽ȩ̸͉̘̫̥͈̽ͅ t̸͉͗̋̈́̈́̓͆u̶̹̬̬̖̤̱͈͇͍͍͑͗̇͆̆̃̇̎͋ ņ̷͙͕̠̇̌̎̋ͅó̶̖͈̰̫̤̯̾̔͋̎̐̏͛ v̶̞̝̺̭̈́̎̋̃̿͊́̚o̴͖̜̙̥̹͈͖͘l̴̖̄́̿̾͐̕s̷̡̢̻̃͛͑͋͋̈́͆̌ s̴͙̄͆̄̈́̂̀̒̏̀͝e̶̡͎̪̳̯̾r̷̢̫͍͙̭̼̺̻̾̈́̂̒̎̽͂̈́͛̋͜ͅ h̶̝͙́̃͋̽ȩ̵̺͕̩͕͇͂͑̓̽́͠r̴͇̺̥͔͈̦̬͐͜͠m̸͚̆̎̂̇̄̈̆͊̌̾ͅé̸̖̍̀t̷̤̗̍͆̽̌̊͊į̵̦̹̍̂c̴͚̘̜̫̗̯̜̯͎̍̔̒͒͝͝a̴̪̥͈̘̝͚͔͐̀̈́͐̊̚͘͝͝͝m̶̯͈̈̔̋͆̆̈e̴͕̙̫͇͙͇̺͙͒̋̾̂̉͒̚n̷̢̲̟͕͙̮͒̆̇̀͜t̸̢̡̬͙͎͔͐͗͛́ b̵̼̼̝̠̙͚̐͑̀̒̃̔̔͘͝͠i̴̧̦̯͎͌́͌̈́͑͝ȍ̸̥̖̪̹̖͙̯̿̐́̊̅̅͝ͅ-̶̟͑̂́̃̈́̑̎̿͠a̴͖͒͜͠b̶͔̻̮̩̳̰̩͍̔̅̀̈́́̐̏̄̆s̵̢̡̳̻̩̒e̴̯̩̱̅̀̚n̸͓͍͓̟̉̿̎̂͘t̵̞̭̣̮̜̠̻̀̒͒̋̽͋͝,̶͚̬̹͔̤̭͙̞͔̌͛̀ͅ n̵̨͕͚̟͓͈̟̯͂͜ͅį̶̭̈́̋̋̋̂͊ ŗ̸̼͓́̽̈́̈́̈́̿̾͗̚͝ȅ̷̢̹̲͙̘̝ģ̶̇̀͌͆̍̂̓̕a̴̫͓̭̐͗ḽ̴̠͈̥̱̺̯̱͚͚͠a̵̛̪̝̯̻̜͋̇̈́̋́̍̕͝r̶̳̤͎̈̇̆͌̊͘͠ l̸̢̝͇̮̠̜̰̾̈́͐͒͒̐̎̈́̚ä̵͚̟̗́̄̽̍͛̚ͅ v̶̻̯̗̰͚̈̿̈́͊͛͗̎̅̕͠ī̴̭̝̄̇̈́͜d̴̢͓̻̯̔̂͗͝ą̸̛̘̞̥̩͍̀́͐͆̓͊͂͝ ä̷̧̨̰̰͔́͒̉́̂̈́̅̈́͠ l̵̡̟̬̭͕̲̊̈́͋̊͛̚͘̚͜͜ạ̶̽́̃̿̿̀̽͝ e̶̙͇͚̖̱͗̏n̸̦͉͉̩͕̘̠͔͛̽t̴̤̤͖̎͂̐r̷̲̓̏͑ǫ̴̡͇̞͚͔̫̩̟̇̾́̏̀͛͘n̸̛͔̼̳í̴̘̟͓̹̲̦̲͆̆̕t̷͖̀z̷̮̏͌̎̓̐̃̓̐͠a̵̺͉̿̅͛̅͠͝d̸͍̦̗̥̠̙͍̺̲͆a̴͍͈̾̔ v̶͈̜̬̓̈́̅̽͒͒̏̄̂͠a̴̘̐̅̌̈́͝ͅṉ̶̹̭̟͕̫͙̦̿̀̉͑̐̓̃́͜i̶̤̳̝̰̭̻̝͒́͑̏t̶͓̗͓̙̗͚͆̄͒͜͝a̵̢͙̻͎̿͗͜t̵̙̲̬̱̖͗͂͊̈́̏̇̔̓̊.̸̨͖͚̻̫̞͂̉̀̕͝
D̷͓͔̉͆͊̅͗͂͠ͅį̷̛̰̝̐̂̿̈́̄̀͌͝͝s̸̳͚͓̟̫͕͚͔̾̓͒̓̓̊̅̀͠͠f̸̠̙̪̼͗̋̌̈́͌͌̚r̴̡̗̻̦̥̃̍̀̍͐̕͠ư̵̢̙̰͖̗̎̑̽̓͠͝t̷̨̛͙̲͖̩̠̫͗́͐̌ͅa̷̬͛ a̸͍͚̞͚̼̫͖̖̘̿͑̄͊͘ͅl̶̡̰͚̝͙̦͙̙̿ f̶͈̠͇̻̼̝͛͊̒̅̋͘͜ö̵͎̯̲̻̥́͛͑ṅ̷̥͕͎̯̺̗͐̍̉̏̊̋̏̌s̸̪̗̜͇̈͘ d̴̨͛̇͑e̴̢̤͉̪͍͈͖͓͑̇̄͋ļ̶̨̙͖̭͍̪͓̚ p̵̻̰̎o̷̧͙̺̣̬̤̅̐̑̈́̓̀͑͂̕ų̸͍̪͍̬̙̀͆͛̄̉͋̓̚ i̷̮͍̙̪͑̈́̀͛͜͝͝ņ̷̗̘̙̖̞̙̘̠̯̈͆̋̄̒̃̑͗͘͠v̸̻̋̈̿̓͆͊̿̚͠͠i̴̠̯̯̬̮̪̭͗̔̒̂͜s̶̗̥̖̱̟̭̲̬̃̓̿͝į̶͉̻̠̞͔͈̟̳̀̋͗̆̚ͅb̴̢͈̮͎̱̘̩̏̃̓̈̂͗́͊̈́̕͜l̶̩̦̼͇͕̗͕̦̉̑͂̆͗̍̓̚ȩ̴̦͖̞̟̝̇̐̎̓̈́̇̔̉̕͠,̶̢̩̭̟̜̞̦̯͑ p̵̭̯͙̥̼̎͜ę̵̹̥͔̻̣̳̜͕̋̈r̵͕̞͍̱͙̮̜̦͉̘̄q̴̨̥̭̯̞̒̅̅͘ȗ̸͇͎͎͉e̸̘̊́͛̀̾̐͛̿͝ͅ l̶͍̗̻̯̰̂̈́̈́͑a̸͓̩̻̳̫̳̣̮̖̒̉̏͜ v̵̨̝͙̖̦̤̮̄é̷̯͒̒r̶̨̧̢̡͉̪̲͖͓͈͑̈́̅̇̋͛ị̶͙̖̝̬̲͙̜̲̕͜t̷̢̢͈̱̩͖̰̳̑͛ͅą̸̣͇̘̞̼̂́̆͊̀̄̽͑ͅt̴̨̧͇̗̙̀͛̀̕͘ͅ ä̶̧̧̪̬̮͔̰͉̪́̋͒̎̌́͜͠r̶̼͖͐̇r̵̞͚̳̥̗̝̂̅i̵̗͚̞̠̖̩͕̼͛͑̄͊͑̉̆̾b̷͍̙͓̳̥̖̜̀̈́̊̈͗́̒͘a̵̳͑̃̎͋̿̕͘ṟ̵̘͓̣͎̟͓̳̩̂̚ạ̵̧̡̢̰̻̤̲́͌͜ à̶̩̝̙͔̼̹̙m̷̢̦̳͎̠̹̗͑̓̈́͝b̶̢̨̢͎̗̺̮̱͖͂ͅ l̷̠͚̮̻͎̱̈́̿́̓͒̽͗a̶̧̢̡͍͙̰̝̼̿̏̈̔͊̕ l̵̼̠͙͌̏̀l̵̟̮͈͈̲̩̫̉̇̒͗͗̚͘̕u̴̳͍̯̪̟̤̫̻̹͊̂͌͝m̷̞̜̣̤͚͉̼̰͖͋̉̎̆ (̶̨̡͎̓͛̒̍͒͝n̴͚̩͌͊̌̊͗̕ô̴̝̲̮̼̪̖̝̣͘m̷̺̮͎̣͖̉͋͂ͅé̴̝̹͕̘̬̯̝̳̺̗̑̀ș̵͈̝̙͊̅͂̈̔̂́̚ a̷̧͔̲͙̼̬̜͐̀v̷̡͈͍̟̫̭̺̣͈͆̎͒̈́̌̽̏̚͜u̸̯̿̕͝i̶̫̮͖̱͊̿̔̆͆̾̍̈̾͝ͅ)̸̜̞̀̉̿̃̓̀́̒̚̕.̷̲̟̱̲̬͆͊͊̓̂̏͂
J̵̥͑͑ą̸̡̲̺̤̣͚̟͎̃̓̽ c̸͔͐͂o̵̲̬̮̊ṇ̸̨̛̻̲͂̅̆̀̍̄͒̌ḛ̴̛͔͍̘̭̙͔͇͖͇̀i̵̟̼͇̪̦͉̩͂͠x̵̥͇̳͖̠̻̰̤̪̾̄̐̈̒̔̿̐̿̉e̸̢̛̱̩̪̘͆͂̉̔͗̓͜ş̶̡̭͎̩̥͈̫̪͉͒͐͗͂̈̌́͐͘͠ l̶̨̯͓͒̒͋̄̊͝ả̸̛͎͕̻̺͉̳̘͉̎ m̵̬̖̰͉̠̍̔i̴̳͈̼͕̪̼̅̒r̵̘̹̲͔͎̈́̂͋ą̷̦̱̣̙̪̈́̾͗͐̉̉̕̕͜͜ͅḋ̴͉̜̑͆͝a̴͓̖̙̝͉̱͛̓ ų̴̢̛̜͕̺̥͚̈́r̶̡̛̛̈́̍̃b̵͖̙̦̈́̆̒̚ą̷̳̬̇̉̈́̇̄̓n̵͍̗̳͈̙͍̭͌́̀̽̚ͅä̵̡̺̦̦͉̙̖̞̈́͛͊̏͘͜͠ ơ̶̗̘͔̈̄̐̋̒̓́͝r̸̢̮͇̯͍̥̎̆͑̍̊̓̊́̚ͅg̷̗͕͓̻͚̙̉̐à̷̡̡͎͚͉͔̤̦͙̈́̐̉̇̈́̐̔̍͝ǹ̷̤͎̯̦͖̄̎͐̌̆̇̎̕i̴̳̲̐̆̂̆̓͐̊̓͠c̴̣̰̈́̃̿͑̕͘a̵̡̛̮̥̙͈̅͐̂̉̀͠͝,̶̡̛̏̉̆̕ e̸͍̥͓͇̠̱̰̫͌̿̚͝ͅn̵͖͆͒͌̾̃̉͗̋͝͝ c̴̩͉̠̞͚̒͑̕͜ͅa̶̩̘̮̤̤͗̊̍̀̓̚̚̚ͅs̸̝͔̲̐̆̓̏͒̈͝ͅ c̷̭̗̠̱̥͙̝͓̃͜ớ̸̧̰͓̖̻̄̐̌̄̍̕n̷͔̽͌ť̶̛͕̤͖̜̩̑̄̈́̑͐͗͝͝ṙ̴̠̞̻̦͖̎á̸̞̥͙̯̟̦͙͓͖̖̎̐̏̓͂̿̐̃͝r̵͖͙͇̹͉͕͓͙͔͂́̍̀́̉͂̎̑i̶̡̖̣͒ ṉ̴̡̮̝̺̍͊̏̔o̷̢̜̫̥̯̳̣̣̹͉̐̎̓̾͘ s̷̺͎̘̟͚̓̒̀͊̅̔͛̐̚͜o̵̺̩̣͇͍͛̿̓̀̀͘̚͘m̸͕͈̱̘̩̎i̸͕̾̊̏͘͜ȁ̸̲̯͙́̈͆̎̅r̷̗̣͔͇͆̓̋͗͂̉͝a̶̧̫̣̎̒̀̆s̶̪͛̔̓̿̏̀ d̸̛̯̪̋̀̂̌̒̉͜i̸̫͚̾̊̿̔͗́͘͜͝g̷̢̢̛̭͔̟̰̣͇͙̾͋̂́̌̓̅̈́̂i̴̛͚͈̖͎̪͖̜̼̗̋̇̈́͋̂͐̍̆t̴̻̖͍͇̬̠̾̒̈́͐̀̄̀̕͜ȧ̸̱͖̗̦̦̙̳̲̻̙̌͐̊̈́̊̂͝͝͝l̶̫̺̼̥̣̙̼̐̔̀̉ͅm̷̝̤͂̉e̶̛̘͓̋̇̃̇̌̓̓̈́n̷͔̜̦̤̻̻̾̃́́̂͊͑̒̊̎t̵̡̖͕́̄͂̕͜ ŗ̸̜̬̖̌̅ủ̶̫̤̗̼̲͈͝r̴̨̠̩̟̝͍̽̓̉͒͝à̷̧̡͖̪͙̖̜̥͔̉̿̒ļ̷̢̛̫̼̭͎̗͙́͌͑͋̈͝͝͝.̶̣̮̠̤̯̜͙͉̼͒
T̴̘̭͈̱̽̓̀̓̈̓͒͘͝a̶̰̣̔̇͂̇̋̔̓̚l̸̯̘̘̱̗̻͓̆̑̽͝l̶̢̬̞̱̝̃͝ạ̷̢̫͒̍͒͒r̸̯͛̓̑̋͒͝e̷̛̛̺̖̒͐̍̒̓̈́̾̕m̸̨̢̟̼̟̹̹̽͜ͅ a̶̬͎͉̰̍̌̈́̿̆́̄͂͛̕q̴̲̪̻̺͋̄͑͌̃͝ụ̷̡̬̥̞͕̿̌̇͜e̴͈̲̙̗̋t̷͖̞̬̰̣̳̏́̃͋̒̄̆̅͛ͅṣ̷͓̩̥̃̀͜ f̶̨̹̰̝̱͉̪͈͔̌́͒̅ḭ̵̤̱̭̳̥̥̻̝̔̆̀̀̒̆̈́̄͝l̶̨͍̦͕̠̯̼̘̞͑͑͒̽́̓͊̓̈́̌s̵̙̈́̍̓̀ q̵͓͖̫͇̞̯͓̹̬͑̈́́̀͜u̵̬̲̖̪͕͎̦͊̒́͑̿͘e̵̻̱̫̦̹̩̣͓͇͑̉̀͑̈́̓̽ ë̷̢͉͚̳͍͈̬͎́̿̑m̶̨̡̭̜̟͇̈́̌͂͛̽͘ͅ p̴̱̪̈́ȩ̸̪͍͈͈̣̺̰̮͎̀̋͋̊͗̆̊̃n̴̻̣̗̜͎̽̒͘͜͜͝j̸͎̫̥͕̫̦̮͚̃̿͛̄̏̎͑͜e̶̥͙̾̋̄͒̇̽̓̕̚͠ͅn̴̢̬̪̩̥͒̾ d̴̲̜̱̜̮̻̳̑'̶̢̩̜̖̖̤̬̜̼̬́ų̶͔̮̲̤̪̗̞̫͊̑̓n̶̰͇̠̼̺͗̃̍͒̾̏̊̉̑͜å̶̟̰̏̐͂̅̚ c̶͚̎̊̅̋͑r̴̢̟̜̥͕̞͔͊̊ͅͅę̴͎̥͎̠͈̐̀̌̍̈́̉̉́̀͘u̶̥̝̗̞̮̣̱̜̞͋̐̋͊̽͘͝ͅ i̵̡̖̮̯̗͓̿ m̵̧̯̙͉̹̲̆̃̑̕͠'̵̖̠̿a̵̺̬͈̬̝̯̒͆͋̆͐͊ͅb̵̡̟̞̙̠̝͎̤̏͝͝ȑ̵̯̥͙̗͆ȧ̶͚͕̾͋̉͋ç̶̖̌̓̿ȃ̵̟͙̠̘̼̗̪͖͐͗͗̈́͜ŕ̷̟͙́͆ḛ̶̰̳̺͉̰͕́̽́͛̓͋̂͠ͅ ȧ̶̻̗͉̟̾͘ m̶͎̤̫̱̰̯̪͇̻̈̾͊͂̃͝͝ͅi̷̛̛̼̮̬͔̬̺͎͍̫͆̄͊ m̵̢̡̳͇̞̦̲̠̼͠ͅà̸̗̯̆͐̓́t̷̮̮́̋͒͗͝é̷̛̠̦͉̾̏̿̐͐̈́ͅi̵̥̖̮̘̿̐̈́͂̀͘x̶̨̡̲̱̯͉̓̍̇̋́̆̅̎͝ p̷̮͕͓̥͇̪̓̂̓́͜͠e̴̮͛͘r̴͇̅̉̔̌̐̉̒̐̉͝q̷̡̘̟̬̣̦̯̠̥͙̂u̸̢̨̩̬̞̹͌͌̌̾͌̏́ę̷̫̠͓̲̬̺̀̎̓͜ s̸̳̘̺̝̔͂̑͐̎͐̆̃͘͝o̴̡̡̧̹͔̱͇̝̦̔͑̄́̾c̴̤̅͌̒̋̈̀͋̋͐͠ i̵̪̳̯̜͙̞͖̼͑͂̌̔̇͒̃ͅǹ̸̨͍̬́̋́̔͜f̸̡̎i̷̡̲̞̠͉̤̣̭̦̬̍ṇ̸̜͍̠̖̞̪̫͓̐̓́̌́̈́̚̚ͅĭ̶͕͚̾̀͒̍̽͊͠t̸̢̤͖̞̮̝̭̮͍̉́.̷̨̳̤̞̼͔̘͘͝ͅ.̴̢̻͓̱̟̪͉̅͒͑̏̋̽̌̈́͜͜͝.̸̛̘͂̃̍̈́̒̚ ằ̷̡̡̬̺͍͇̇̄̎̅͂̑͂͝ͅ l̸͍̠̣̠̮̥̹̩͐͗͜ͅa̶̗̩̼̜̺͓͈̅̑͗̈̈̊͗̕ x̵̢̤̩̼̤̫͎͗̽̊̀̏̐̔̈́â̴͍͇̤̍̿͌͋̕r̸͉͖͚̼͍̠͉͕͛̈́̄x̴̧̢̧̜̞̩̘̰̮̤̄a̶͉͕͇̜͉̦͉̺̿̇̽̋̕͜

Ľ̴̨̳͈̼̮̠̯̥̾̄͌̌̕͠ͅą̷͉͔̦̜̽́͝ v̷̗̖̞͎͇͆̏i̷̬̝̭̼̪͛̇͘͝ḑ̶͇̟̰̄̓̈̌̈́͑a̷̡̡͕̙̙̖͙̥͋̉̆͊ͅ ę̷̘̫̻̉͑͜s̷̛͉̈͒͐ p̷͇̟̣̮̊͊̊̐͜͠o̷̻͈͕̒͐͆͒͊̅̋̎͆ḛ̸̹̜̳̝̂̽̅̀̈̊͑̇̋̅s̵̤̺̦͈̰̤̅̏̎̌͠į̷͚̝͇̙̖͖̞͍̏̐̏͊͑͝ͅá̸̱̪̥̟͙͉͗̋̔̀͜,̷̤̎͆̃̃́̃̍͝ l̸̨̺̰̖̇̓̋̋̅̿̈́͂̋͝a̸̭̬̯͚̰̲̻̠̪͘ v̵̨̢̱̮̫̫̫̀͂̚͝ī̸͚͓̰̼̣̺̊̾͗̕͝͝d̸̡͔͕̤̝̦̯̺̎̊̆͝a̶̧̠͋͗͆́̚̕ é̸̢̹͔͚̣̣͓̇̑̍̈́̑͘͠ͅs̷͕̠̀͒̕ ů̶̺̼̪͊̇n̸̟̞͚̼̖̪̒̿͋̓̈́͛̀̆ b̶̨̨̡̡̤̠͇̤̹̑ũ̶̲͈̘̀́̚͜m̷̰̈́̈e̶̼͕͍̟̖̣̣̜̟̽́͂͋̈́͜r̶̨͔͐͋͑͊́̾̊̈̀̕a̴̜̭̮̲̋͊͜n̸̢̧̺̭͍̥̻͍̠͑̆̌̔͜͝g̸͍͑͗̍͑̄̓́̈́͝.̶̥̭̣̙̦̭̲͎̰̍

The little bird bounced forward.
Reluctantly.
A 1000 pairs of eyes burned bright behind him and also a 1000 pairs of wings fell silent as he hopped forward. The mighty light of the ancient lair of the Great Gwarnuu could be seen radiating through the roots of the olde tree. The bird hopped further forward, took a deep breath and gently dropped through the hollow and landed within 10 metres of the greatest beast that ever walked planet Earth.

The tiny bird never needed to speak, The Gwarnuu knew what to do. A master of the art of magic with a great motherfucking bellow, fire and magic exploded from his lungs. All the birds outside his subterranean fortress, their beaks and talons metamorphized  into cold hard silver. And all were furnished with razor sharp edges.
He crawled from the deep, the birds emblazoned with their silverware, feathers and brilliant alive-as-never-before eyes rose in a great symphonic cloud.
The Gwarnuu stood massive under the moonlight. 500 birds took hold of his cloak and body, their silver bladed talons could not cut too fast into his magic cloak, they tucked in softly like blunt hooks. He rose as they beat their wings into the night sky. The other 500 were up front, screaming for vengeance and retribution upon the hillbillies rancid camp. The sound of silver split the air. The roar of the Great Gwarnuu thundered across the horizon!!!
 

In the distance Gumpas, Bucktooth and Dwayne snored around the campfire.

Slobbering and snoring like drunk fat warthogs they lay slumped round the campfire. After all a days killing and boozing in equal measure is pretty hard work. Especially if you’re a lazy hateful slob. The killing would be easier tomorrow with Uncle Cletus’ fully automatic rifle. Less effort for maximum results. The world was burning anyway, the rivers rising, the once Great Coral reefs were bleached white like the dead bones of African elephants out in the sun. Apocalypse was now and Bucktooth, Dwayne and Gumpas were gonna help it along a little.

Bucktooth choked a little on his drunk snoring. Something moved against the grain in his dreamworld. A vagabond interloped somewhere in the blackest corner there. He choked on his drunken snore a little more. Reality began breaking down his wall of sleep. He was going to just ignore it and slobber his way back into the darkness, but the vagabond continued to move against the tide of his beloved sleep. A subconscious distress signal started to register within his minds eye. He awoke with a start. Snot and spittle ran down his face. Tears of pathetic fear would soon follow. His face bathed in the blackened orange of the campfire embers he looked up at the sky. A great wave of war was breaching above him in the night sky. He pissed his pants and began blubbering. His cohorts woke up sharply on their camp chairs. All three faces gloamed in the blackened orange and all three faces witnessed the final few seconds of quiet before the great crash of the tidal wave of war smashed down upon their necks.

The roar of one thousand thunder storms!

The Great Gwarnuu bellowed his fury at these pathetic pipsqueaks. With great claws he plucked the hillbillies heads off their necks. The sound as each head was torn from the shoulders was like popping a cork from a champagne bottle. POP!
The Gwarnuu deep magic made sure each head remained all nerves and blood kept circulating so the horror wasn’t short lived. The headless hillbillies corpses were reduced into clouds of dna as the 1000 birds with their silver razor sharp beaks and talons tore a whirlwind of guts and bones into microscopic pieces. The heads looked on. Still alive and still breathing. Once the bloodmist had gently fallen to the ground and began soaking away the Gwarnuu sat down by the fire, the heads of Dwayne, Gumpas and Bucktooth turned upwards to face Him. He never spoke to them, he never gave them a reason or never revealed his story. The Gwarnuu just stared hard into their eyes. It was probably these bastards relatives who hunted and killed his beloved mother and father and siblings out on the Great Plain all those years ago. If not they were of the same kin. Greedy, selfish, ignorant and full of hate. After a while the Gwarnuu called forward the oldest owl of the forest from her dark corner of the eaves of the oak tree. She settled down by his great hooves, he spoke to her. And she turned her face towards the heads of of The bloodthirsty hillbillies. The last thing
Bucktooth, Dwayne and Gumpas saw was The Great Owl hopping towards them it’s beak furrowed with anger and vengeance as their eyes were plucked from their skulls, the last thing they felt was their brains melting as The Great Gwarnuu put their heads on their fire.
Everything went oily black orange as the embers melted their heads and conscious. Then the orange faded and all there was pitch black. And no sound.

The crackle of the fire faded into silence

(The dreams of killing whispered in the winds of their eternal sleep)

Oatmeal.

¡ay caramba! 

Hail The Fucking Loon Wolf!!!
Hahah how you doing Chieftain Rice? 
My Raygun is fully charged and pointing at Jans temple. Just a gentle squeeze and I’m gonna fry her frizzy hair and Planet of the Ape face. Then I’m gonna torpedo her boat! Hah! That’s the plan but while I send you this thinking about my devious plan, I know her Cohorts From Outer Space are circling fast and descending like hornets from the nest to rescue her. WE MUST SAVE HER!!! WE MUST SAVE HER!!
Well ET, you’re dealing with The Loon Wolf and he has a Raygun and I’m gonna squeeze the trigger......
DESCEND!!! UFO TO FULL ATTACK MODE!!! SAVE HER!! FEEL THE NEED FOR SPEED!!!
Nah I cackle at the moon, and with a mighty howl the trigger is squeezed and now she is just a puddle of super hot steaming gloop. Time for a beer and a smoke by the canal path.
The light of the stars stretched out like white Christmas lights, have turned orange, and pink and yellow! The lights of the stars are moving in different directions and at mega speed!! They aren’t the light of the stars they are something else!!! A furious storm front of light, sound and extra terrestrial war implodes and explodes in front of me. A tsunami of laser beams are cutting through the air! Searching for the Wolf. I dive into the canal and swim for my life!!!
 

Even after shocking my swimming pool, several giant jellyfish can be seen thrusting themselves beneath the surface of the rusted, cloudy water; tentacles trailing behind their billowing hoods with rhythmic, hypnotic grace. A severed head sinks to the bottom, and my ten year old daughter looks at me for approval through a blood spattered dirtbike helmet. She releases the trigger of our portable gas powered chainsaw and begins singing the chorus to Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time". 

On the highway, we pass an empty ice cream truck tipped over and engulfed in flames. The sky is the color of gingerbread and there is a faint, shrill siren wail that turns the knot in my stomach like a corroded valve. Moral quandaries are as luxurious as pedicures, and I would eat cardboard if we found enough food for one.   

poonpf

Chubby double decker

*lacan, furrowing his brow laconically* no u ppl, what don't u understand? there's a big otter in my yard, he won't let me leave my house