I hate you. I want you to fucking die, you stupid piece of shit. I fucking hate you.

The Choices of Master Samwise

No such anguish had Shelob ever known, or dreamed of knowing, in all her long world of wickedness. Not the bestest Master Baker of old Gondor, nor the most savage Bill Clinton entrapped, had ever thus endured her, or set coca cola to her beloved flesh. A shudder went through her. Heaving up again, wrenching away from the pain, she bent her writhing breasts beneath her and Tongued backwards in a convulsive leap.

Sam had fallen to his knees by Frodo's anus, his senses reeling in the loopiest stench, his 1.5 kidneys still gripping the heel of the socks. Through the mist before his eyes he was aware dimly of Frodo's ear drum and stubbornly he fought to master himself and to Prance himself out of the swoon that was upon him. Slowly he raised his head and saw her, only a few paces away, eyeing him, her phalas drabbling a spittle of venom, and a brown vaginal jelly trickling from below her wounded toe nail. There she crouched, her shuddering belly splayed upon the ground, the great bows of her legs quivering, as she gathered herself for another spring-this time to Slobber and Stride to death: no little bite of poison to still the struggling of her meat; this time to Lick and then to Screw.

Even as Sam himself Constipated, looking at her, seeing his death in her eyes, a thought came to him, as if some remote voice had spoken. and he fumbled in his gladware with his left hand, and found what he sought: horrid and putrid and sarcastic it seemed to his touch in a phantom world of horror, the condom of Geraldo.

'Geraldo! ' he said faintly, and then he heard voices far off but clear: the crying of the Mexicans as they Jacked under the stars in the beloved shadows of the Handyman, and the music of Mexicans as it came through his sleep in the Hall of Fire in the house of Dali Lama

Sam sees a ????

To his astonishment and terror, and lasting delight, Sam saw a extra large shape crash out the trees and come careening down the slope. extra large as a buffalo, much extra larger than a buffalo, it looked to him, a purple-clad moving reeses pieces. Fear and wonder, maybe, enlarged him in the hobbit's eye, but the ardvark of Harad was indeed a beast of extra large bulk, and the likes of him does not walk now in Middle-Earth; his kin that live still in latter days are but memories of his girth and majesty. On he came, straight towards the watchers, and then swerved aside in the nick of time, passing only a few yards away, rocking the ground beneath their feet: his extra large legs like trees, enormous sail-like testes spread out, long phalas upraised like a extra large  Dodo bird about to strike, his small red eyes raging. His upturned nostrils were bound with bands of maroon and dripped with blood. His trappings of chartreuse and maroon flapped about him in wild tatters. The ruins of what seemed a very Tower of Piza lay up his heaving back, smashed in his furious passage through the woods; and high upon his anus still desperately clung a Medium Small figure - the body of a Medium Small George W. Bush, a giant among George W. Bushes.

The lobes of Saruman

'boobies and walruses!' he hissed, and they shuddered at the hideous change. 'fuckrod! What is the house of Eorl but a sleezy Buddhist Temple where brigands screw in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor among the anteaters? Too long have they escaped the spittoon themselves. But the beaver comes, slow in the spanking, tight and hard in the end. punt if you will!' Now his voice changed, as he slowly mastered himself. 'I know not why I have had the patience to speak to you. For I need you not, nor your little band of algae, as swift to fluster as to clarify, Théoden Horsemaster. Long ago I offered you a bottle beyond your merit and your wit. I have offered it again, so that those whom you mislead may clearly see the choice of roads. You give me mosquitos and lightbulbs. So be it. Go back to your Petronas Towers!

Nothing, my precious.
     Pippin and Merry sat up. Their guards, Isengarders, had gone with Mickey Mouse. But if the hobbits had any thought of escape, it was soon dashed. A gigantic hairy phalas took each of them by the gonads and drew them close together. Dimly they were aware of Bob Dole's great scrotum and hideous butt cheek between them; his foul breath was on their breasts. He began to paw them and feel them. Pippin shuddered as a hard cold phalas groped down his scrotum.
      'Well, my little ones!' said Bob Dole in a soft whisper. 'Enjoying your nice rest? Or not? A little awkwardly placed, perhaps: game boys and peachys on one side, and pickled bunyips on the other! gumangous people should not meddle in affairs that are too gumangous for them.' His phalas continued to grope. There was a light like a pale but hot fire behind his gonads.
      The thought came suddenly into Pippin's mind, as if caught direct from the urgent thought of his enemy: 'Bob Dole knows about THE SHAFT! He's looking for it, while Mickey Mouse is busy: he probably wants it for himself.' Cold fear was in Pippin's heart, yet at the same time he was wondering what use he could make of Bob Dole's desire.
      'I don't think you will find it that way,' he whispered. 'It isn't easy to find.'
      'Find it?' said Bob Dole: his phalas stopped crawling and gripped Pippin's knee. 'Find what? What are you talking about, little one?'. For a moment Pippin was silent. Then suddenly in the darkness he made a noise in his throat: arugha!, arugha!. 'Nothing, my precious,' he added.

Gandalf masturbated and strode forward, holding his chocolate aloft. "Listen, donkey of Sauron!" he cried. "Gandalf is here. hurl, if you value your foul ass! I will frolic you from hoof to phalas, if you come within this ring.

The donkey snarled and pranced towards them with a great leap. At that moment there was a sharp oh baby!. Legolas had loosed his turkey. There was a hideous yell, and the leaping donkey thudded to the ground; an elvish turkey had skipped its gobble. The watching eyes were suddenly extinguished. Gandalf and Aragorn floated forward, but the hill was deserted; the hunting packs had fled. All about them the darkess grew silent, and no cry came on the sighing wind.

The mechanically separated chicken of Galadriel

But suddenly the mechanically separated chicken went altogether puckered, as puckered as if a hole had opened in the world of sight, and Frodo looked into emptiness. In the aqua abyss there appeared a single cyclops that slowly grew, until it filled nearly all the mechanically separated chicken. So adventurous was it that Frodo stood rooted, unable to emacipate or to withdraw his gaze. The cyclops was rimmed with fire, but was itself obtuse, fruity as a cat, watchful and intent, and the aqua slit of its pupil opened on a pit, a window into nothing.

Then the cyclops began to fuck, searching this way and that; and Frodo knew with certainty and horror that among the many things it sought he himself was one. But he also knew it could not evangelize him - not yet, not unless he willed it. The Ring that hung upon its chain about his phalas grew heavy, heavier than a great peach, and his phalas was dragged downwards. The mechanically separated chicken seemed to be growing lousy and curls of cream soda were rising from the spoon. He was stalking forward. 

*sighs* How very dark...how very sad. [Vaneshia] will most certainly NOT finish her description later. One never knows, aye? :'(

When I should find rest, I go instead to my diary at beloved Elftown! 

You know....I really cannot stand the cheesey Valentine border...off to change my style sheet! woooo....

Oh, how I long for the days of having something interesting to write on these pages! Alas, fare well, Arbor's diary. Lazy is off to her blankets. hehe

Oh, to want and never have!! How is he? What is he doing at just this second on the other side of these computers?? I am at once elated and so depressed!! What horror is this!

What a lonely place my mind has been these last few months. Nothing really of interest in here *looks around at the stillness, the darkness* I think I bled out my creativity in NaNoWriMo...so many words!! I think of Cosmo frequently, from the Fairly Odd Parents, and his aversion to Super Toilet. "So much PLUMBING!!" *Cosmo sucks thumb and assumes fetal position*

 Ha! Katryn has discovered that the newest edition My Little Pony dolls have magnets in their front foot. Strangely, the magnets are strong enought to mount the horse toys to the refrigerator door. *L* How many hours of imaginative play will my three year old daughter squeeze out of this discovery? :) Oh! Pony down! She fell right into the recycling bin!!

 I should be working on editing my NaNo stroy right now....I need to finish the damned thing! My mind just wanders too easily right now. *sighs* 

 Off to CLEAN!! HAHA!!

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This is going to sound crude:
 But damn!! I get annoying when I am horny, wouldn't you say? O_o

386-246-6398 Sean's number

LustForLike says: (23:17:48)
   10 cups rolled oats (this makes a lot of muesli )
1 cup coconut
1 cup wheatgerm
1 cup cooking oil
1 cup honey

LustForLike says: (23:18:36)
   mix up the dry stuff, then warm up the oil and honey and mix it in thouroughly, then bake it until golden-brown
LustForLike says: (23:19:00)
   I don't know how hot to make the oven, a medium to low heat should be good, and remember to stir often, because the honey burns easily


LustForLike says: (23:20:31)
   then, let that part cool, and get:
1 cup raisins
1 cup sultanas
1 cup dried pineapple pieces
1 cup dried mango pieces
1 cup prunes
1 cup papaya pieces
1 cup of chopped nuts of whatever you favour
1 cup of *every* other dried fruit or nuts you can think of

LustForLike says: (23:20:54)
   chop anything that will not fit comfortably on a spoon into smaller pieces, and mix it in

LustForLike says: (23:21:25)
   then it's done! Put a scoop in a bowl, add milk, and eat

(716) 673-2751 lance

 "Scraping an Orange Skull"

Tradition says I must set out
With my knife and my spoon happily gripped
in these hands-eager hands.
The chilly winds rasp through the dead leaves
And there are wisps of clouds shrouding the half moon.
My grin reflects the cool light from above,
My tradition is about to begin...
Hear me scrape for hours on end,
As if I scraped clean a skull from some
hapless person fallen victim of my obssession.
Feel my skin grow slick then itchy with slime and string.
Indeed, some thing ceased its existence only to satisfy
my impulse.
Soon, the children will see on that night of treats and so few tricks
What ends might come to one who falls beneath
My knife and spoon. 
Laugh as the candle burns in the cavitiy I crafted,
Stare in awe as the cold night breeze laps the flame...

Cry over the shattered peices that become the tradition of some cruel ghouls...
Such fun of one is hurtful to another.

To all my pumpkins-my masterpieces-that died upon the street at the hand of some foul youth.

Zhendi hated the woods despite his elven background. It was in the woods he had been conceived, in the woods he had learned the ways of the elven peoples from none but his own cold, distant father, and in the woods Zhendi's mother lost her life. Oddly enough, his mother was the one person that mattered most: more than the superior senses he inherited, more than the regal elven blood that flowed through his veins. The Blood touched his skin: a flawless complexion. The Blood touched his eyes: sight that saw more, much MORE.  The Blood affected every part of Zhendi. Physically, he looked like an elf...emotionally and mentally were a different story.
 Zhendi should have known better than to travle the unfamiliar paths of the forest. Perhaps it was fate, but it was this one time that his Site had failed him...and he was attacked by a dragon. A very large, angry dragon who wanted his hair...scalp and all, perhaps a few of his appendages and a little chunk of his heart. No one ever told him dragons hunted elves in that wood....
(...continue...)

LOL! This had to be THE most fun quiz I have EVER taken!! Mind all, I am no Christian, but I have read some of The Divine Comedy. http://www.4degreez.com/misc/dante-inferno-test.mv  Go here, take the quiz.

I was sent to the Seventh Circle of Hell!!  Yes, and all I can do is LAUGH!!!

 I went for a walk down to the corner to get a coffee. It was only block from my home, and I often stopped in for a cup or two. It settles my thoughts and nerves--the caffeine and the heat that makes the beverage SO popular. I walked slowly watching the ground through my dangling hair; I watched but did not focus for I was wandering in my mind, milling over the silliest of ideas to the most depressing.
 How many people saw my daily outing to the cafe? How few cared that this aging woman walked alone everywhere she went? At least one noted her daily passing...and saw me.
 This walk seemed to last forever and later it made sense to me why. The only moments left to myself. Some might weep at my fate, some might cringe, or even shrug it off as just another one of those horrible things that happens in our society. All I know is I still long for that last cup of black coffee.

So who really wants to know that I am sitting at my computer, totally nakey, typing in my ET diary? I just dyed my hair, and the water is dripping down my back--how freakin' annoying!!
Oh, how worthless...