Generic Business Oriented Website

(KRB is BANNED from this thread)

Well, since KRB will not be posting on this thread, I will use him so that he's already out of the way.

Emergency

Mrs. Thimble tells the class that the restroom is only for emergencies. Curious as to the nature of emergency, KRB raises his hand, claiming an emergency. Paramedics arrive on the spot. KRB is stacked over a wheelbarrow and wheeled out. When the crew empties his pockets and find no emergency, they yelp. KRB is rushed back to the classroom where he drowns. The rest survive in the restroom.

Dude looks like a laaaydaaay

he is a sinister man, rumours where that some nights he would howl at the moon for hours non end. I first encountered him at a backgammon club in the mayfair, he was drinking cheap gine and smelled of mothballs.

One day lil' Luca went to the bathroom, only to discover that there were girls there... for a second he thought he was in the wrong bathroom.

puttin' on the Phritz

Dr Yail Bloor wrote:he is a sinister man, rumours where that some nights he would howl at the moon for hours non end. I first encountered him at a backgammon club in the mayfair, he was drinking cheap gine and smelled of mothballs.

Haha, that description needs mention of the crime of "Menacing" in it somewhere.

Though he'd earned himself the nickname Gurge, he was one of the more friendly of the bunch. If not for his incessant desire for unpalatable artwork, you'd almost think he was a man of this Earth.

Spends his days contemplating the best way to become just like Epic Beard Man.

I know for a fact that the Rev beats the piss out of himself just like Ed Norton in his avatar.

A man walks into a strip club and talks about his TV...

A vegan warrior who fights with his teeth. He may bite a chunk out of your face but by golly he'll spit that meat right out.

I feel ripped off.

delmuerte wrote:I feel ripped off.

I'm not changing my name, motherfucker.

Oh uhhh... A man who fucks mothers.

He got raped in TX a few times; a few more times in Modern Warfare 2, which was right in front of me. I stood by and did nothing.

The man with the infamous drumstick.

Comrade Slinky wrote:The man with the infamous drumstick.

typecasted...

Steve keeps his libido in a garment bag in the attic.

Bored once molested a child.....his face is covered in acne. The end.

Once upon a time he lived happily never after.

He was locked up in jail for stealing a tube of astroglide, when he was in jail black dudes pushed him around, put cigarettes out on his ass, one black guy pushed him in a corner and held his arms down, then spit in his face over and over saying "white boy got girl arms, white boy got girl arms" when he got out he looked at his arms in the mirror, and shot him self in the head. The coroner laughed at how small his penis was and spit in his brain pan (a herbal mixture of secret Italian gypsy curses to damn his soul to hell which is being punked out by black dudes in a clay oven) before sawing his head off and putting it on another body just to fuck with his relatives at the funeral that didn't care to remember his cremation request, but its not like anyone showed up to the wake or funeral.

Foe'd

He's having a stroke in stages...

Awesome Assassin took a look at his lawn chair and then sat in it. The neighbor got pissed off and said, "Get off my lap, faggot!"

Awesome Assassin apologized, noting that there was barely any space between his house and the neighbor's and hence that was the reason he sat upon his lap.

electronicham wrote:Chelsea was driving along I-15 somewhere along the Mojave Desert. She was on her way to Vegas and it was close to 2 a.m. Having had a couple bumps of coke, she felt she would be good to go for a while. All of a sudden, a man appears on the side of the road. Without hesitation, she pulls over. The man gets in. Immediately, Chelsea is thinking to herself, "What have I done? Is this guy a creep? What if he is a murderer? He is also very good looking". The man says in "Thank You" in a way that calmed Chelsea. "Where are you headed?" asked the man. "Vegas, going to stay with some friends for a little bit". "Are you running?" asked the man. "Excuse me? By the way, what is your name?" inquired Chelsea. The man smiled. "I have no name. I am presence. I am.....the man of the goat". Chelsea didn't know what to say. Now she is getting nervous and the cocaine was not helping. "Have you ever served Baphomet?" the Man of the Goat asked with a menacing posture. "Uh, I am going to pull over". "No you are not" he stated staring at her with fire in his eyes. At this point, he raised his hand molding his fingers like they were grasping an invisible grapefruit. Chelsea felt a pain in her chest and her head. Her nose started bleeding. Blood began coming out of her ears. She could hardly breath. The man that was once in her passenger seat was no longer there and the car began to smell like it was on fire. Chelsea slammed on the brakes. She couldn't open the door. She was bleeding from every orifice on her....nose, eyes, mouth, vagina, etc. The car was engulfed in flames at this point. Chelsea was dead within minutes. Her soul is now in hell.

The Man of the Goat traveled through a wasteland searching. He searched for one who called himself Eham. His soul was of a particular essence that drew the Man, instilled in him a monstrous thirst. Eham was close. Aided by the overpowering scent of the essence, the Man followed a fresh trail woven through savagely overgrown foliage. He came upon a moonlit clearing with a haphazard tent of furs standing in the center. The Man crouched in the dark shadows of the overgrowth for a time, waiting for the opportune moment.

-------------

Eham carefully weighed out a small amount of acrid, red powder onto an antiquated scale. Slowly, he tipped the suspended plate of the scale, pouring the powder into a crude steel bullet. Many of his order have met with violent deaths from the smallest error in working with this substance. Eham considered the danger a small price. He slowly capped the bullet and placed it in his bullet belt then mopped the perspiration from his forehead.

"Alchemy is thirsty work." he muttered to himself as he reached for the nearest dick.

A dreadful cacophony of tortured screams pierced the night before Eham could even fondle a testicle. He spun on his heels and pulled out his gun. He silently peered through the window flaps on the two sides opposite the entrance to his tent, loaded his gun and, with no source of the disturbance visible, stalked out the shelter. The silent clearing was empty of all but himself and his tent. Another group of eerie wails sounded all around him and he quickly scanned the campsite with his gun at the ready.

Eham steadied his breath and called out "Show yourself, you cowardly fuck toy!"

Before he could finish the sentence something large drove into his back, throwing him to the ground. His gun clattered on the ground a few yards away. Eham lifted himself up on one elbow, spitting blood, and looked up at a shadow of a man standing over him. He tensed himself for a lunge at the figure's legs when he was painfully gripped by his hair and once again thrown through the air. As he hit the ground he felt and heard a loud snap. His good arm was broken. Eham writhed in pain on the swampy ground, trying to gather his wits. The figure roughly picked him up by his shirt and forced Eham to stare into his face. He saw a vaguely satyr-like face with terrifying, hungry eyes. The man twisted his mouth up in a disdainful smirk.

"wololo dam u suck i pwned u so fukkin hard faggot i gonna eat ur sole"

"Hard to eat without a fucking stomach, demon spawn."

The man frowned in confusion then looked down at the small pistol at his stomach. A growl of rage welled up in the man's throat as he glared at Eham with such hatred that he almost faltered before pulling the trigger. Eham wrenched backwards from the man's grip as the creature was flung back into the overgrowth by the force of the blast. Shaken and in pain, Eham picked himself up and stared at the dark space his attacker inhabited before he blasted the fuck out him. He was paralyzed with shock and fear, two things he was not familiar with in this dangerous, near in-habitable land. Eham couldn't get the sound out of his head as the man was thrown backwards from the gunshot. He was laughing.

Friendly Goatus began pissing in the toilet. The sound of the piss hitting the water reminded him of the time he put applesauce into his shoes thinking that that was a good alternative solution to get rid of such foot stank.