Feature Posts
Quidquid Latine dictum sit altum videtur
King Bungle
King Bungle sits atop a rickety, rented throne, dispensing caustic non-wisdom to no-one. Vituperatively venting venomous vitriol toward an unsuspecting and unaware public. Basking in the frigid waters of contempt and judgment.
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King Bungle sits atop a rickety, rented throne, dispensing caustic non-wisdom to no-one. Vituperatively venting venomous vitriol toward an unsuspecting and unaware public. Basking in the frigid waters of contempt and judgment. Dispensing disapproval while desperately demanding to be worshiped by those deemed unworthy. Worship me, oh flawed and foolish farm-trough feeders, give me my fifteen minutes to prove what I’ve always known: that I’m infinitely better than you, and I promise to despise you forever
Feelin' February
Icy, electric tentacles reaching down from the sky, filling heads with the fire of
ideas. Synapses, sonically booming in the silence of thought. As the conductors of
this symphony of self, we organize chaos into expression.
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Icy, electric tentacles reaching down from the sky, filling heads with the fire of
ideas. Synapses, sonically booming in the silence of thought. As the conductors of
this symphony of self, we organize chaos into expression. Dance to your own song and
then pass it on. If they like it, the halls will fill with those that can’t hear
their own tune. Make room because the deafness is screaming from every corner of
this experiment we call life.
So few, thinking for so many. And fewer still doing
their best to think the right things...
A Different Window
It’s been awhile since anything new erupted from the tips of these fingers. All
re-writing, editing and polishing of turds that have dropped over the many previous
months. Angry, pessimistic bombs from the bowels of a poisoned mind...
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It’s been awhile since anything new erupted from the tips of these fingers. All
re-writing, editing and polishing of turds that have dropped over the many previous
months. Angry, pessimistic bombs from the bowels of a poisoned mind. Shine up my
raging misanthropy and ship it off to people I hope aren’t sick of that kind of
shit. But now I am.
I’ve escaped from the a primordial ooze on more than one occasion, only to slide back
in when the weaker parts of my personality
succumb to darkness.
The only time I'll get good reviews is if I kill
myself. - Edward Albee