|
|
 |
|
|
|
#1
08-27-2010, 03:42 PM
|
||||
|
||||
...uh-oh...
Gooey can handle the questioning from here. Time to dee-dee. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=851oAu7p7_c . Last edited by clyde : 08-27-2010 at 07:23 PM. Reason: he to the 
|
|
#2
08-27-2010, 06:28 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
I enjoyed interpersonal relationshsips with Franny.
She is fine ...is doing yeoman's work at home.Still trying to shake off a bad summer in hot heat,but she's fine. I know this because she told me to go fucl< myself. Just thayin'.
|
|
#3
08-27-2010, 07:18 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
SportyFans..I have a real treat for you.
Randy Sterling is on hour show,right now. Welcome to my fine program,Randy. Thank you, Morty. I should tell you I have changed my name to Andy Serling.Just thayin'. Oh..OK. Well, Randy....how goes it? Andy. No..I'm Morty. I meant my new name. My new name is Andy. Oh gosh, I'm sorry.So..Andy, how goes it? It goes fine,really.Never bettah. Well good. You certainly have moved up the ladder in weather prediction. Morty, I'm in handicapping thoroughbreds. Horsey predictions...not weather. Oh.My bad....anyways----every star will tell you there was one person way back in their career who really inspired them.Gave them the will to go on.Who would that be for you? Stevie Byk. You're kididng me, right? No,honest. Care to explain? Not really. Ok.How about role modelsAny today you feel can inspire the Sterlings of tomorrow? Serlings. Who's he? ME!! I told you my name is now Andy SERLING! Well there I go again.Won't happen anymore, I promise.What's your opinion of ZenYaddaYaddaYadda? When she runs what is commonly acceepted as a real race, why I'll let you know. Uh-huh.So who do you like in the Traverse tomorrow? It's...tomorrow!!!!?? Why,yes. It is. Oh fucl< me...I gotta go!! Randy!!..wait!!.....I...........................oh well. But was great having you on the show,Randy.All the best,sir. Last edited by clyde : 08-28-2010 at 01:18 AM.
|
|
#5
08-27-2010, 07:42 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
|
#6
08-27-2010, 07:46 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
|
#7
08-27-2010, 07:51 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
I forgot...this one,too.
Sonnets To Orpheus, Part Two, XII By Rainer Maria Rilke Want the Change. Be inspired by the flame Where everything shines as it disappears. The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much as the curve of the body as it turns away. What locks itself in sameness has congealed. Is it safer to be gray and numb? What turns hard becomes rigid and is easily shattered. Pour yourself like a fountain. Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins. Every happiness is the child of a separation it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming a laurel, dares you to become the wind.
|
|
#8
08-27-2010, 09:29 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Quote:
|
|
#9
08-27-2010, 10:51 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Quote:
You can easily be replaced by a blow up poster.
|
|
#10
08-27-2010, 09:42 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Quote:
  Fine. I shant post my other thread idea. It was fun! It was all about opposites (hooray!  ).You know, rough and dirty or slow and sensual, whether you like certain tongue motions better than others (will not go into detail this time. Got in trouble for popsicle thread) , use of hands and mouth vs just mouth, where you prefer to *** (you in the general sense, of course) would you rather *** in my (my as in general sense haha) mouth or on my ****, levels of volume... but alas if i am going to be fun of I shall take my nice thread idea and play elsewhere. All alone. 
|
|
#11
08-27-2010, 10:32 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Hi Morty!
__________________
http://www.facebook.com/cajungator26
|
|
#14
08-27-2010, 11:35 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Sharon Dubiago.
She has guts. 100 Memories I Don't Remember The dress I was wearing when my brother was born, my bangs growing out. My father undressing me under the house in Ramona my sister has reported again and again, my white maidenform bra I am trying to tell my sister or someone downstairs to save the rotting lemon because it's organic. We can't remember everything. We can't forget anything the last hook, then snap of the band with the half inch seams I always had to take both sides of the 34D to fit my girl frame The migraine up Clevenger Canyon, there's a grainy black and white of this, I'm 16 in a white V-neck orlon sweater holding up my heavy hair having pulled over on that dangerous spot. Having Vicki take the picture because otherwise I'd never remember that I had a headache. Daddy and my brother were boys but not different from me, Mama and my sister. I thought of their things and our things like clothes we put on. Male and female, this is how I understood adjective. I believed with the fervor of prayer we were the same. I still believe we are the same. Daddy in his bath would show me how he masturbates, the word more forbidden than witnessing masturbation and I don't remember through all the years ejaculation. He lies in the tub, his big boned, white hairy body in the bubble suds. His hairy toes turning on the hot water faucet to reheat, that's how long we've been in here, his hairy fingers around his purple thing and what is a mistake? and what is remembering? what is a sin, instinct, desire, what is allowance of the self, what is justice and what is love? running away, disappearing into the fog to Korea to Europe ravaged to the river bottom, my father ravaged Going back to the house the first time after I told my mother in the bathtub, last week of 6th grade. I remember flying through the house, leaping off the porch knowing the greatest relief I will ever know, Mama will take care of it. But imagine going back and Daddy coming home. I remember her beautiful body in the bubble suds, I don't remember going back to the house, I never thought to try though she was never the same, I was never again her child, I didn't know this until now. I always thought my not remembering was good, this is how we forgive, this is love. I so loved my mother and my father and my sister and my brother. Last night I nightmared again the murdered girl. What to do with her body? I can't remember who she is but I remember the Los Angeles River still free though it had flooded before I was born killing so many it had to be cemented. I don't remember the Fathers' castrating me stuffing my mangled, bloody genital into my mouth, their faces can't be looked at. I don't remember my gender, my father, my tribe, the fear but I remember my mother is lost so my heart rises to go to them fleeing back down their many mansions then unable to weep, to remember how we walked the millenniums, each a galaxy of blood a hundred billion ancestral faces looking up, if you are found guilty, Daddy, will they execute you? I remember my first song, "shu shu m' baby." I remember going into that forbidden place, myself that island rising up on the horizon. I forget its name but I remember when it saved my life
|
|
#15
08-28-2010, 12:10 AM
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
|
#16
08-27-2010, 10:52 PM
|
||||
|
||||
|
Quote:
There are times I turn to self mutilation. This is one of them.
|
Hybrid Mode
