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Old 05-02-2021, 03:48 PM   #1
Run To Me
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Default i Want 25 on 32 DO IT



Just three nights from now and he will lose one of his eyes. It will come right out of his head. Which one? His left one. His left one will be gouged out with the narrow end of a beer bottle. A beer bottle sitting upright on a coffee table, his neighbor’s coffee table, and he’s going to lose his balance and pitch forward suddenly toward it, and the lip of that bottle is going to land right smack in his left eye and him coming down with all his weight. There will be blood and screaming and a lot to think about after that, but such is life, right? From start to finish, that’s really what it is sometimes. Some blood and screaming and a lot of time to think in between.

For now, Twinkletoes has both of his eyes and he’s turning on the tape recorder and grinning and he says: “There was One Good Thing we all used to do and we used to love to do it. But we forgot it somewhere. Some old playground game that’s buried in the collective memory. Was there running? We kicked a ball, that was part of it, right? The ball—or was it water guns?
“And some of us can remember bits of it and we carry these bits around everyday and we just can’t get them out of our heads. Which is how you explain someone like me. Or someone like my dad. That’s all it is, that’s all, when you boil it down deep enough. Something I can almost remember—the name of someone whose face I can see, the syllables of their name I can taste, but I just can’t...fucking say it.

“So out of frustration we did things. We protested. We went out and we got mixed up in these chemicals. Because one of the best good old things we used to do to forget was get all stirred up. You had the drinks and the other guys had the smokes and the pot or the mushrooms. And we would just get these chemicals all stirred up Betty Crocker style—the perfect proportions, the proper sprinklings, to make it feel like heaven should feel if there’s any fairness in the world. We would get all stirred, our brains full of drink and our bellies full of smoke and ash. Our arms and our legs practically flying off. Then when the other fellas wanted to go riding make a point of how you sure couldn’t drive for Godsakes. Unless they all wanted to die in a fiery crash and mushroom cloud. So one of the other ones would groan for awhile and pace (hem n haw) and then car keys would be jingling outside in the parking lot and then car doors slam and you’d be off zooming here and there. You’d hear friendly sloppy voices talking all around you. Someone talking about some psychedelic movie they heard about in the indie paper and they want to see. Or a new song, this new record that will blast you right off. Now and then someone would look at you, peer in enormous and twisted across the fisheye lens of the world. They would look and see your upper lip curl your left knee raise up slowly slowly slowly—then snap back down again. They would say “Man…are you OK then?” And you would just roll your head away and look out the window. And all of a sudden your buddy’s piloting a space ship.
A lonely warm shuttle in the big dark empty rainy solar system. Blurry stars and murky planets streaking past. Feeling all urban. Feeling all warm with the only humans in this part of the Universe. Safe passage through space in this sailing metal box behind the gentle glow of dials, buttons, colored stacks of lines on the display that climb or shrink to the music which sounds like your limbs growing and stretching—out through the ceiling and floor of the car like it was wet paper—your shins stretched out and your feet dragging against the concrete, high-fiving trees, light poles, road signs. Then a waitress is asking you what to drink and someone says for you the name of your favorite tropical drink the one you have when you are at the sea. Everyone laughs and she looks at you and you nod. So you’re crunching into something for a minute and gulping down salty stinging oceans. Part of you is in Mexico where you can feel the waves up against you. Then the waves are overtaking you, up over your neck. A little bit unpleasant. But this doesn’t last too long because somehow we wake up in our beds on top of the sheets in our clothes and it’s still 2:00 am so we sit up and smoke something and lie back flat and listen to records until the sun comes up.

Last edited by Run To Me : 05-02-2021 at 04:02 PM. Reason: We understand your enthusiasm. But we also have to balance the forces at play. I know you don’t agree, nor do you have to

 
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Old 05-02-2021, 04:28 PM   #2
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Sunday is a good day to eat mushrooms, but Saturday is probably better

 
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Old 05-02-2021, 11:10 PM   #3
Run To Me
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Saturday nite —> Sunday morning

Used to get so torn apart at the transition, when i was sad/old enough on sat nite to just go for it to get to the bottom of every container that had anything that would do something/anything to me, but was still, out of burning self hatred and concomitant thirst to cry/sing, i was can u believe it still draggin my ass to fundamentalist church crack of ass praise Him mornings

Just dying thru that service, sore skulled. Absorbing tiny looks of concern

 
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Old 05-03-2021, 02:51 AM   #4
teh b0lly!!1
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“So we reluctantly did something. We protested. We mixed up with these chemicals. One of the best ways we were forgotten was that I was excited. I drank alcohol and other kids smoked marijuana and mushrooms. We're all going out. Those Betty Crocker style whip chemicals - perfect proportions, proper cannabis spray - make you feel like heaven must have a sense of justice in the world. Our arms and legs actually fly. When other boys ride tell them why you can't drive before God unless everyone wants to die in the collision of fire and mushroom cloud. After a while of chanting (ham and how) the car key was hung in front of the parking lot and the car door was off Locked and closed here after there. You will hear friendly and lazy voices around you. Psychedelic movies or new songs that you find in independent newspapers want to hear new albums for flying and fisheye lenses. In the world, fisheye lenses sometimes look big and curved when someone is looking at you. They saw how her upper lip was rounded and her left knee slowly rose and then fell again. They said, "Man ... how are you?" He just turned his head and looked out the window. Suddenly your friend is driving a spaceship. The lonely, warm space shuttle flies in the sky,

 
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Old 05-03-2021, 03:00 AM   #5
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dark, rainy solar system. The past radiates dark stars and dark planets. The whole sense of civilization. I feel good with the only person in this part of the universe. Walk safely through the space of this metal shell and move behind the gentle brilliance of the tablet, buttons and stacks of colorful lines on the screen. These lines move up and down the roof until you feel the music stretch your limbs. Car floor. Just like wet paper, with feet outstretched, feet dipped in cement, five-story trees, lampposts, and traffic signs. Then the waitress will ask what you are drinking and someone will tell you the name of your favorite tropical drink. What to drink in the sea. If she looks at you and nods, everyone will laugh. So chew for a while and swallow the hot and salty sea. Some of you are in Mexico where you will feel the waves against you. Then the waves hit your neck. A little uncomfortable. But it won't take long. Somehow we woke up in bed, dressed in clothes, and it's still 2 a.m. ..above.

 
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Old 05-04-2021, 05:23 AM   #6
Run To Me
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Originally Posted by teh b0lly!!1 View Post
“So we reluctantly did something. We protested. We mixed up with these chemicals. One of the best ways we were forgotten was that I was excited. I drank alcohol and other kids smoked marijuana and mushrooms. We're all going out. Those Betty Crocker style whip chemicals - perfect proportions, proper cannabis spray - make you feel like heaven must have a sense of justice in the world. Our arms and legs actually fly. When other boys ride tell them why you can't drive before God unless everyone wants to die in the collision of fire and mushroom cloud. After a while of chanting (ham and how) the car key was hung in front of the parking lot and the car door was off Locked and closed here after there. You will hear friendly and lazy voices around you. Psychedelic movies or new songs that you find in independent newspapers want to hear new albums for flying and fisheye lenses. In the world, fisheye lenses sometimes look big and curved when someone is looking at you. They saw how her upper lip was rounded and her left knee slowly rose and then fell again. They said, "Man ... how are you?" He just turned his head and looked out the window. Suddenly your friend is driving a spaceship. The lonely, warm space shuttle flies in the sky,


Quote:
Originally Posted by teh b0lly!!1 View Post
dark, rainy solar system. The past radiates dark stars and dark planets. The whole sense of civilization. I feel good with the only person in this part of the universe. Walk safely through the space of this metal shell and move behind the gentle brilliance of the tablet, buttons and stacks of colorful lines on the screen. These lines move up and down the roof until you feel the music stretch your limbs. Car floor. Just like wet paper, with feet outstretched, feet dipped in cement, five-story trees, lampposts, and traffic signs. Then the waitress will ask what you are drinking and someone will tell you the name of your favorite tropical drink. What to drink in the sea. If she looks at you and nods, everyone will laugh. So chew for a while and swallow the hot and salty sea. Some of you are in Mexico where you will feel the waves against you. Then the waves hit your neck. A little uncomfortable. But it won't take long. Somehow we woke up in bed, dressed in clothes, and it's still 2 a.m. ..above.

 
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Old 05-04-2021, 05:44 AM   #7
Run To Me
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Old 05-04-2021, 12:49 PM   #8
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They don't sleep anymore on the beach

 
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Old 05-04-2021, 08:55 PM   #9
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Originally Posted by Unicycle View Post
They don't sleep anymore on the beach
since when is gy!be part of the dumb drug culture?



when I think of pre-gish billy with his crew... I litterally think of a bunch of brain dead mentally challenged guys in bad leather.
I think of the mentally disabled people at the Special Car wash from Curb S04E03

 
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Old 05-04-2021, 09:21 PM   #10
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I want 5-MeO-DMT

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 12:29 AM   #11
Run To Me
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Run To Me View Post

To clarify

My original
Post

Let me just


Sorry let me just

Ahem


What i meant is u r the dunking

One
teh b0lly!!1 With your five story trees thanks for elevating this shitpost within a fartthread
?

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 01:43 PM   #12
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Are these exclusive extracts from the long awaited spiritual memoir?

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 02:08 PM   #13
Run To Me
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Not sure what anyone else is doing in here, tbh. But as for me and my dad this is just a safe place to post our worst autobiographical B- creative writing samples while also gently asking big willie to for the love of ffs pls can u give us 25 on 32 one last time before u go back to making yur miserable clown music

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 02:09 PM   #14
Run To Me
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Like just pls give us a single track to which we can smoke trees, like we used to b able to do when we were listening to gish when we were little kids

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 03:21 PM   #15
teh b0lly!!1
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I AM ONE AS YOU ARE TREES

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 03:34 PM   #16
Run To Me
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We know he still has the pedals. We’ve seen him continue to do it live. Just jam with jim and jim and roll tape u fucken dunce

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 03:41 PM   #17
Run To Me
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RAWK what do u think about it

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 03:42 PM   #18
Run To Me
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Do u want 25 on 32? Or are u just a lurker today

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 03:43 PM   #19
Run To Me
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lambert fuck u u fucken lion

Don’t eat my babies

But if u r friendly lion on a quest to see your dad in a thundercloud

Well, then

 
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Old 05-05-2021, 04:10 PM   #20
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Old 05-05-2021, 04:10 PM   #21
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"do it"

 
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