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DESERTED ISLAND

LOST ON A DESERTED  DESERT ISLAND... 
Read poll after story...  don't want to spoil the plot twists here...
Poll #1681524 Captain...

The captain should

Get drunk and fight the alien ship with coconuts
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Build a house inside one of the icebergs and invite the aliens in for dinner...
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Turn into a mythical beast and kick the alien's asses...
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Call forth the ghosts (and zombie people) from the Titanic to wage an epic war against the aliens.
0(0.0%)
Sail away on an iceberg to save the Titanic victims only to realize that he is merely delusional and dehydrated before he dies in the ocean...
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Page One:

I was naked and alone.  Also very drunk.  Sleeping under the shade of a palm tree; I awoke in a puddle of saliva when a coconut fell on my head.  The sea was what I saw.  I didn't feel like I could trust my thoughts, only my observations, but even the objective details of my predicament were hard to trust.  At first, the birds circling my head seemed to be seagulls.  I soon found out their true nature.  They were annoying me.  I couldn't help it.  They were not making bird noises, they were singing corny Bruce Springsteen tunes.  "BORN IN DA U.S.A.... We were born in the U.S.... caw caw!!"  They called out towards my inebriated body.  Their words resounded and reverberated in an endless round until the lyrics were no...   (SEE PAGE 2)



 
PAGE 2:
 
...longer decipherable.  I got up.  I fell down, I laid there.  I crawled toward the ocean.  Inching my way to the shore I attempted to remember the past events.  Either I was recovering from an alcoholic black-out or I sustained a mild traumatic brain injury.  I knew that I was the captain of the Titanic at some point, but again it was difficult to trust memories or thoughts.  While trying to recount the past events, the only image that came to mind was how proud I was to sound the horn of the largest luxury passenger ship to trudge across the icy waters of the Atlantic.  What a powerful feeling it was to pull the chain that caused the horn to sound.  It was strange though because audio and visual memories became one.  The sound of the horn was the same as the bright light that lifted me off the.... ( see page 3)
PAGE 3:

massive vessel.  This extreme sensory experience flashed out of my mind as soon as my hands hit the warm tropical waters.  I had finally reached the shore after a long and depraved crawl. This relief was soon met with astonishment.  The water began washing off my skin tone.  What was left beneath was a gray/taupe shade with intricate designs that resembled hieroglyphs.  But ah, where was my captain clothes?  Why was I naked?  Why was my dick so hard and my asshole tingling? WHY?!  Shortly after this realization I began voiding tiny beads of what I thought were feces.  "UGH, finally a good poo!" I thought.  But these little turds glistened like silver in the sun.  They had crazy designs in them, they began to expand and hatch.  I watched in amazement.  My shit was glowing.  

I began to collect up my shit but I had no where to put the poo.  I thought I was greedy.  My thoughts were lies.  These shits were worth money back in England.  I could be rich!  The material was exquisite.  A combination of gold and diamonds with rubies and amethyst.  This new gem could be worth millions even in the 1900s.  Yet they  continued to grow and pulsate.  My shit was Shiny.  The sky was too blue to be true.  Was I in heaven or somewhere else?  Perhaps Nirvana.  I knew the answer to this question as soon as my deepest fear emerged from my excrement.  My mind was fuzzy, but still, I realized with extreme clarity that I had mistaken diamonds for icebergs.  Rage welled up  up deep within my damaged psyche.  The icebergs that crushed my dreams must be destroyed.  I began to pummel them with my drunken fists

PAGE 5:
God save the, uh, ME!  What about me?  Where's my fuckin' ship?  And why won't these stupid fuckin' aliens stop staring at my naked bum?  There they stood ----->  Underneath a tropical tree.  My eyes scanned the sand and I noticed what resembled crop circles across the terrain.  WHAO!  Where did my existence remain?  This must be a spell.  I needed some water from my well, but no this wasn't jolly-ole-home or the Titanic.  I'm the god damn captain!  I commanded the aliens to stop everything that was happening with my mind and asshole.  This wasn't supposed to happen like this.  The ice-burgh turds reacted in defiance to my demand.  They grew larger and larger until they consumed the entire Island.  I began to grow cold, very cold.  The only head to be found was...
PAGE 6:
...coming from the alien ship above and that was the last place I wanted to find relief from this icy hell..   They were icing me out.  Trying to get me back in their space ship where they could implant my ass with more icebergs or maybe something worse.  I kept on course even though I was no longer heading towards England.

 

The Fabled Squid

 

 First page of a new book... prelude to The Fabled Squid...



The Fabled Squid


Page one:

The Giant Squid of interest was shot in the head by a rogue French pirate. This event did not phase either of them.  From that day on they each held a vendetta against the other.  
"La Stupide et drole squid!" yelled the French pirate across the gray ocean.  The squid pumped his fist in rage in return.  But even in this gesture of rage the squid was still crying.  The squid was always crying... Giant tears poured into the ocean, raising the water levels.  This made the ocean react with angry waves that especially targeted the French pirate's ship.  The Frenchman's vessel was merely built out of baguettes and old cheese.  It wasn't a very sturdy ship.  The squid found this slightly endearing before he pummeled the buoyant baked good deep into his salty tears.
"Tu es bastard!" whined the frenchmen in an underwater tone.  This brought the squid to tears and the water rose.






 
Page 2:
You see, the squid was a pacifist and any sort of violence made  him extremely depressed and delusional.  Flinging croutons from the baguette aimlessly towards the squid, the frenchman himself began to cry. The croutons got washed away in the current and eaten by the fishes.  The water was rising extremely quickly because no one can cry harder than a Frenchman and a Giant Squid.  They both began to laugh and the Frenchard realized that he was able to breath under water; with this realization he lit up a cigar.  The Frenchman was crying because he witnessed the sadness in the Giant Squid's eyes.  The French know good art and the squid was good art.  "All I have to offer you is this soggy bagguette and the gun I shot you with, Monsieur Squid."  The frenchman proclaimed with great love in his voice.
Page 3:
By now, the United States was almost all flooded from the tears of the two.  The president of The USA had his trigger finger on the Red Button.  The problem was the Red Button blew up the whole world besides the USA.  Man, did he feel like the Dufus of the Year; the Dufus of Eternity.  He wondered about the origin of this sea level increase and began to cry.  This did not help the flooding because, man, if you see a USA president cry, it is even worse than an average Frenchman or Giant Squid.  Water was everywhere and rising quickly.  The general public began building giant floatation devices.  Capri's and highwaters were front page on Elle Magazine.  The president had committed suicide by suffocation from his unending tears.

CHAPTER 1: HEAD IN THE SAND.

I started writing this in the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern while eating pierogies and stuffed cabbage.  We were drinking Morrocan beer.  The little flag that the knight is holding was sticking out of my stuffed cabbage.  It was a wonderful night.
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CHAPTER 1: Head in the sand
PAGE 1:


 
Under the abandoned bridge, that shaded the dried up river, lived an entity.  He had no arms, this mud-dwelling frog man... with a tail.

The king sent a knight, one summer night, to eradicate this ungodly creature.  What this silver uncrusted warior did not know was that the armless frog man had friends.

There was the tap dancing psychic snake man.

He could boil your brains in one fatal glance.
 

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              2

PAGE 2:
He would then eat them, while dancing away.

No one can see the tap dancing snake man with the naked eye.  For him to appear, you must know an ancient poem and recite it during a quarter moon.

The frog-man's good friend, the water flying soul sucker sent from satin, also had his back.
 

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                                         3                                                                                     4
PAGE 3:

Then there was...

The sneaker-fresh cricket-shrimp from the 5th dimension of vortex B9.  No one knew of his powers because he swore not to use them.

Scientists hypothicated that this land shrimp...
PAGE 4:

...smacks it's unsuspecting victims with his sweet kicks before splattering them with ooze from the 5th dimension of vortex B9.

Of course frog-man had other friends who were ready to jump the knight.

Armless frog man was sitting under his bridge, trying to itch his forehead with his toe, one day; when his friend the water flying soul sucker, appeared.
 
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                                              5                                                                          6
PAGE 5:

 "Hey soul-sucka!  I got this itch my toe can't reach, you know the whole no arms thing really gets in the way."

Frog man looked at the hovering fish for assistance.  The fish tried to appease the itchy frog with little success.  His fins were too silky-smooth.

Mean while the knight was slowly trudging through an unknown countryside full of magical beings whom he was unable to see.

He grew cold and tired.  The knight fell asleep on an old lumpy tree.
PAGE 6:

The night was young for the other-worldy creatures of this multi--dimensional land.

Of course,the tree whom the knight fell asleep on was part of the magical kingdom.  The tree began to click its branches together in a rhythmical pattern.

"Click-boom-boom... Click-Click"

The birds began to rock back and forth on the tree's branches and sang.

The song echoed across the land and put a spell on the little knight.
 

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                                      7                                                                                          8

PAGE 7:
The 1st enchanted being to reach the news was the wooden bridge that shaded the frog-man's mud puddle.

The frog man buried his head in the mud to relieve the itch.  His fish friend was hanging out when the bridge began to speak. the news.  The broken bridge spoke through the split road, like two lips.

"There is a Silver Knight who is advancing across our land.  The tree man from Wali-Land has wooed him to sleep. DANGER!  DANGER!"


 
PAGE 8:

The Satanic Soul-Sucking fish looked down at his harmless, armless friend and lit a cigarette.
Frog man had his butt wiggling around in the air while his head was still stuck in the mud.

THE BRIDGE CONTUNUED:

"The knight is being monitored by the Dream Watchers of the 9th tier from the 20th dimension.  Our sources say that he is dreaming about the Armless Frog Man of the Mud River.  We believe the Knight is after him for reasons unknown to us."


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                                         9                                                                                    10

PAGE 9:

The soul-sucking fish sat down on a mud clump and began to roll a joint.  "Damn" he said to himself as he watched his froggy friend struggling in the mud.  He noticed how helpless the frog was; unable to even pull himself out of the mud.  The frog's legs began to twicht violently and Soul Sucka tried to pull him out with his fins but could not grasp the frog's legs.  Soul-Sucka gave up after taring a fin and looked into the night sky.  "I might as well just suck out his soul, there is not much time left for my frog friend." he thought.
























 






 

PAGE 10:


Soul sucka saw the quarter moon shining like a silent savior.  He remembered the ancient poem...
 

"HO-ROE HUDDA  HUDDA
HO-ROE HUDDA HUDDA
HO-ROE HUDDA HUDDA
HANG-DE HUN DUN

THERE ARE TUNES IN THE  RIVER WA-TERS

POOLS IN THE RIVER WA-TERS

TUNES IN THE RIVER AND THE RIVER CALLS THEM"

Just as the soul sucking fish was about to go into the 3rd stanza, he heard a troop of tap dancers.  They were dancing to his song.

He saw the snake head emerge with his many feet and found relief.



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

PROS AND CONS OF A RELATIONSHIP

 
 
P
ros and Cons of a Relationship

Like your smile
but often you lie
You have a hot cock
but sometimes you suck a cock
You have a lot to say
making me gaY

PROSE AND CONS
Can go
All night long:
You smell good
but it's hard to get wood...
But I will fuck you in the woods!

Ain't that good?
Like Robin Hood?
Like a good farmer should
fuck a goat
Down your throat?

You can cross my moat
make my mind float
CRUNCHY
Like a 
Cracka Jack
Clean me out like ipecac

Whack like a potato chip
heart attack
With dip!

Runnin from the 5-0 fo real!! No caps.

Tags:

Of all the places I expected to wind up after the interview.  The bartenders have chosen the "slow jam" radio station and the guy next to me is singing along to R. Kelly.  I found myself singing along, too, softly and sweetly to some shitty love song I'd usually roll my eyes at.  The server from the Olive Garden across the street just walked in.  He's a regular.  He's also an alcoholic.  But that's ok.  We've all got our something.  He's looking at me, and he probably recognizes me from one of our drunken conversations about the meaning of things.  Then again, he was especially drunk, so he might not remember.  The guy next to me, R. Kelly, he said to me, "I like your shoes."

I'm wearing sensible and safe footwear following a job interview.  I don't even like my shoes.  "No you don't, " I replied.  He looked at them again, catching a glimpse of thigh as I shifted in my seat.  After examining more than the shoes, he said, "You're right.  I don't like them."  He then took the seat next to me at the bar and said, "I'm John."

I laughed.  "Well, we're getting off on the right foot.," I scoff, sipping on my beer.

FAT MAN IN THE GUTTER

      

  

    


                                  
                                 


                  
 
               
Fat Man In The Gutter
...licking a stick of
butter

Thinking of 
his mother's
fat toes

Frying up an old 
crow
Pretending it's a 
Sir-
Loin

Pizza of old
mind of mold
IS THERE NOTHING
LEFT TO LIVE FOR?

Snacks, Spanks, and Smut
Plus smochies from
YOUR MOTHER
FUCKING
HOE-BOSS

Babe, Pig in the City
haunts all my dreams
wiggy my fat

I'm where it's at
 

 

 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 

 

ATTACK OF THE KILLER WORMS

The following is a SPOOKY Halloween story!  It was written by 2 people.  One person's writing is in CAPS and the other person is in non-caps.   We were drinking Jack and Coke at the bar of a movie theatre, waiting to see Paranormal activity 2.  The movie wasn't that good, made me not want to have babies.  Anyway....  Enjoy.

The house was filled with worms. WORMS FILLED WITH THE REMAINS OF THEIR UNSUSPECTING HOUSE GUESTS.  A worm in my sock. Two worms in my shoe.  What to do with a worm on the brain driving me insane?  I STOPPED TO PULL A WORM OUT MY ASS WHILE RUNNING DOWN THE STAIRWELL AND TRIPPED.  THE WORMS WERE CHASING ME. GROWING MAY LITTLE FEET OUT OF THEIR BELLIES WITH TINY SHOES ON EACH FOOT.  And because this house was in South Philly, all worm feet turned to heroin needles.  AND I INSTANTLY BE CAME AN ADDICT MYSELF.  JUST LIKE ONE OF THOSE FREAKISH SHAPE SHIFTING WORMS--------->  HUNGRY FOR FLESH AND THIRSTY FOR DRUGS.  I started taking stupid angle photos of bums, but I was just taking pictures of myself over and over again.  BEFORE I COULD EVEN REALIZE IT, I WAS A WORM TOO, GROWING LITTLE LEGS WITH TINY CUSTOM FIT SHOES.  High heels with little fish tanks in the heel.  The worms swam free there.

THE END!!!!!

wingshuttle

This story was written by two people.  The CAPS writing is written by one and the non-CAPS is written by the other.  We wrote this in a bar...  we were most likely drinking a pitcher of yuengling or some whiskey and were inspired by the firehydrants of Pittsburgh.

WINGSHUTTLE:

Chapter 1: Delusions of an ordinary man.

Once there was an old man firehydrant named Wingshuttle in the downtown of Pittsburgh.  HE WAS VERY PROUD ONE RAINY DAY WHILE HE GLISTENED IN THE SUN! He was a weird firehydrant, a real nut-job. IF HE COULD MOVE; HE WOULD JUST SPLASH AROUND ALL DAY IN THE RAIN.  Wingshuttle told me that tale once, late on a Tuesday, after I had a hard day at work.  I was a banker and didn't like my family that much, so I would just wander Downtown after work, not wanting to go home.  I would often chat with that old Fire-hydrant, Wingshuttle.

I'D SIT AT THE BAR ALL EVENING, JUST DREADING LIFE AS IF IT WERE A SPORT.  SOME NIGHTS AFTER LONG  SPEED BINGES, WHISKEY WAGONS, AND DOOBEY DEBACLES... I WOULD THINK THAT I SAW OLE' WINGY THERE OFF IN THE CORNER  I'd been fucked up for three days.  I threw my cell phone into the toilet and flushed.  BUT THE TOILET GOT CLOGGED.  I WAS AT THE BAR , OF COURSE.  I FELT EMBARRASSED SO I REACHED MY ARM IN THE TOILET TO RETRIEVE MY PHONE.  THIS ORDEAL LASTED MORE THAN 20 MINUTES.  THE BARTENDER KNOCKED ON THE DOOR.