I’m Lolling At Henry Rollins…

STITCHERS – “Full Stop” – A shooting leaves Detective Fisher in ICU, and Kirsten on the hunt for the cause in the summer finale of “Stitchers,” airing Tuesday, August 4, 2015 at 9:00PM ET/PT on ABC Family. (ABC Family/Eric McCandless) HENRY ROLLINS, EMMA ISHTA

… in this episode of Stitchers.

Like… they even had a flashback to him when he was younger. I wish it just been him in Black Flag, running round like a little fucker. 

What a missed opportunity.

Dating Profile Generator

Tired of trying to sound interesting online?

Fed-up with trying to find new ways in which to whore yourself to strangers?

Folks, you need the ONLINE DATING PROFILE GENERATOR!

Look what it came up with for me:

Smelly maniac seeks ruthless woman with a plump vulva for arson, car theft and maybe more

I am the maniac you’re looking for.

Hello ladies! I’m learning about important dates in history. Wanna be one of them?

I’m a murderous kind of chap, who likes nothing more than arson with the right woman.

The first thing people usually notice about me is my surly personality, closly followed by my smashing testicles. I’m the man for you, if you like great testicles and orifices, particularly combined with ample baby oil.

I work as a maniac, helping rats. This allows me to exercise my skills: necromancy and haberdashery.

    My life goals include:

  • Star in the next Star Wars film.
  • Fall in love with you
  • Become the best maniac I can be
  • Help all the rats in the world

If you’re the right woman for me, you’ll be ruthless and vengeful. You won’t be afraid to rimming and will have a healthy respect for Communism.

My ideal date would involve car theft in hell with a ripe woman by my side. While we’re there, I admire your plump vulva whilst feeling I’m the luckiest man on the planet.

Let me tell you about a funny thing that happened to me last week. I was just helping an elderly across the road when I was hit by a car. I needed three stitches. BOOM!

May the force be with you.

Light me fire, babe

Jyoti Mishra

I mean… it’s fucking perfect!

 

Aabyryk Complains

furiousqueerious :

phoebebishopwright :

A deer wanders quietly in a church in France.

old gods

 

“What is this place?” said Aabyryk.

“A church,” I answered.

“A temple? To what gods? To the Mother? To the Cousin Wind? To Sister Rain?  There used to be so many of us, we ran through the skies, butting antlers with the stars themselves. We were full of glory, the power broke through us like rays of silver in a morning frost. One night, I argued with Earth over who was the strongest and kicked a great clod off him. That’s how the Moon was born. She was never an old god like us. We laughed at her, we howled.”

She sighed.

“We rarely manifest now. We sleep and we dream.”

I nodded at her, hoping to look understanding, sympathetic.

She snorted and stared at me, “I do not need your pity, fool. We will rise again. When this shiny world of trinkets you have made collapses, when you are back to the ashes and ruin you love so much…. you will worship us again. We will taste your children’s blood as sacrifice again.”

“What’s the worst thing I can say? Things are better if I stay… So long and goodnight…”

Dancing round with my mates last night at Rock City and this classic came on at just the right time. We had a SERIOUSLY EMOTIONAL dance. I think I actually saw a woman across the dance floor get a bit weepy.

And then, weirdly, I remembered playing MCR when I was DJing years ago. I had to look it up:

https://bzangygroink.co.uk/archives/2004/09/14/bless-playlist-1392004/

I remembered because the girl who asked me for them was really pretty and had braces (teeth, not trousers).

Isn’t sexuality weird? I only remember that night because I fancied her and fourteen years later, that emotion pops up again (hurr hurr). I wonder where she is now… Is she still emo? Does she still love MCR? How are her teeth? She’s probably like a Mum now and a proper grown up. Unlike me.

Me, I’m looking forward to dancing to MCR and State Champs every weekend though I’m actually feeling like I’m Sixteen Again…

3028

It’s 3028.

You lie in a puddle just over 4km in diameter, photosynthesizing. The photons taste like tiny buffalo wings as your greedy chloroplasts worf them down.

A gentle summer shower starts; it’s your 65,536 lovers arriving to fertilise your gaping stomata. The bliss envelopes you all and, inevitably, some of you releases tiny babies in the form of homunculi 236 nanometres long. Goodbye, Children, wave me when you have Minds!

As your family lie in a happy heap around, in and through you, you absorb all pre-existing human media in just under a tenth of a second. That was good but you’re still peckish.

So, you live the life of every baseline human who ever lived, simulating their wildly, ridiculously tiny lives in just eight of your nineteen thumbs. Then you burp. It smells strongly of cyclohexane and Ribena.

Your half-sister waves from orbit. You wave back.