u2_refugees

Nicole...when I get home I have to talk to you. Check your email and read my poem.

Hola.

I've been trying to post to unsunglullabies but I just can't figure out how to do it. **sobs** I...am...your...computer illiterate crazy-ass mofo freakmo friend.


http://www.rotten.com/library/bio/entertainers/actors/pee-wee-herman/ ~ hahahahahaha!!!!

Hope you enjoyed le movie.
Isn't Anakin(Darth Vader) the sex?

Nicole, you have to read this and tell me what you think. I think he is onto something there with the condemnation of hardcore pornography. I know that porn fucks people up, but not everyone. If everyone was affected then just about every single person in the U.S. would be a serial killer, don't you?

I asked the guidance counselor (she's been helping me with the project) about pornography addiction and she said that it can a mental disorder. But can porn addiction be a biological mental illness or something more on the lines of a personality disorder?

Whatever. :(

**************************************************************************************

Ted Bundy, an infamous serial killer, granted an interview to psychologist James Dobson just before he was executed on January 24, 1989. In that interview, he described the agony of his addiction to pornography. Bundy goes back to his roots, explaining the development of his compulsive behavior. He reveals his addiction to hard-core pornography and how it fueled the terrible crimes he committed.

A road that leads to nowhere
When Ted Bundy was thirteen years old, he discovered “dirty magazines” in a dump near his home. He was instantly captivated by them. In time, Bundy became more and more addicted to violent images in magazines and videos. He got his kicks from seeing women being tortured and murdered. When he tired of that, there was only one place his addiction could go - from fantasy to reality.

Bundy, a good-looking, intelligent law student, learned to lure women into his car by various forms of deception. He would put a cast on his arm or leg, then walk across a university campus carrying several books. When he saw an interesting coed standing or walking alone, he’d “accidentally” drop the books near her. The girl would help him gather them and take them to his car. Then he would entice her or push her into the vehicle where she was taken captive. After he had molested the girl and the rage of passion had passed, she would be killed and Bundy would dump her body in a region where it would not be found for months. This went on for years.

By the time he was apprehended, Bundy had killed at least twenty-eight young women and girls in acts too horrible to contemplate. He was finally convicted and sentenced to death for killing a twelve-year-old girl and dumping her body in a pigsty. After more than ten years of appeals and legal maneuvering, a judge gave the order for Bundy’s execution. That week, he asked an attorney to call me and request that I come to Florida State Prison for a final interview.

When I arrived, I discovered a circus-like atmosphere outside the prison. Teenagers carried signs saying “Burn, Bundy, Burn,” and “You’re Dead, Ted.” Also in the crowd were more than 300 reporters who had come to get a story on the killer’s last hours, but Bundy wouldn’t talk to them. He had something important to say, and he believed the media couldn’t be trusted to report it accurately. Therefore, I was invited to bring a camera crew to record his last comments from death.

I’ll never forget that experience. I went through seven steel doors and metal detectors so sensitive that my tie tack and the nails in my shoes were enough to set off an alarm. Finally, I reached an inner chamber where Bundy and I were to meet. He was brought in, strip-searched, and then surrounded by six prison guards while he talked to me. Midway through our conversation, the lights suddenly went dim.

Ted said, “Just wait a moment, and they will come back on.”

I didn’t realize until later what had happened. The prisoner knew that his executioners were testing the electric chair that would take his life the next morning.

Ted Bundy wanted to tell the world about pornography
What was it that Ted Bundy was so anxious to say? He felt he owed it to society to warn of the dangers of hard-core pornography and to explain how it had led him to murder so many innocent women and girls. With tears in his eyes, he described the monster that took possession of him when he had been drinking. His craze to kill was always inflamed by violent pornography. Quoted below is an edited transcript of the conversation that occurred just seventeen hours before Ted was led to the electric chair.

James C. Dobson: It is about 2:30 in the afternoon. You are scheduled to be executed tomorrow morning at 7:00, if you don’t receive another stay. What is going through your mind? What thoughts have you had in these last few days?

Ted: I won’t kid you to say it is something I feel I’m in control of or have come to terms with. It’s a moment-by-moment thing. Sometimes I feel very tranquil and other times I don’t feel tranquil at all. What’s going through my mind right now is to use the minutes and hours I have left as fruitfully as possible. It helps to live in the moment, in the essence that we use it productively. Right now I’m feeling calm, in large part because I’m here with you.

JCD: For the record, you are guilty of killing many women and girls.

Ted: Yes, that’s true.

JCD: How did it happen? Take me back. What are the antecedents of the behavior that we’ve seen? You were raised in what you consider to be a healthy home. You were not physically, sexually or emotionally abused.

Ted: No. And that’s part of the tragedy of this whole situation. I grew up in a wonderful home with two dedicated and loving parents, as one of 5 brothers and sisters. We, as children, were the focus of my parent’s lives. We regularly attended church. My parents did not drink or smoke or gamble. There was no physical abuse or fighting in the home. I’m not saying it was “Leave it to Beaver”, but it was a fine, solid Christian home. I hope no one will try to take the easy way out of this and accuse my family of contributing to this. I know, and I’m trying to tell you as honestly as I know how, what happened.

As a young boy of 12 or 13, I encountered, outside the home, in the local grocery and drug stores, softcore pornography. Young boys explore the sideways and byways of their neighborhoods, and in our neighborhood, people would dump the garbage. From time to time, we would come across books of a harder nature - more graphic. This also included detective magazines, etc., and I want to emphasize this. The most damaging kind of pornography - and I’m talking from hard, real, personal experience - is that that involves violence and sexual violence. The wedding of those two forces - as I know only too well - brings about behavior that is too terrible to describe.

JCD: Walk me through that. What was going on in your mind at that time?

Ted: Before we go any further, it is important to me that people believe what I’m saying. I’m not blaming pornography. I’m not saying it caused me to go out and do certain things. I take full responsibility for all the things that I’ve done. That’s not the question here. The issue is how this kind of literature contributed and helped mold and shape the kinds of violent behavior.

JCD: It fueled your fantasies.

Ted: In the beginning, it fuels this kind of thought process. Then, at a certain time, it is instrumental in crystallizing it, making it into something that is almost a separate entity inside.

JCD: You had gone about as far as you could go in your own fantasy life, with printed material, photos, videos, etc., and then there was the urge to take that step over to a physical event.


I was a normal person. I had good friends. I led a normal life, except for this one, small but very potent and destructive segment that I kept very secret and close to myself.

Ted: Once you become addicted to it, and I look at this as a kind of addiction, you look for more potent, more explicit, more graphic kinds of material. Like an addiction, you keep craving something which is harder and gives you a greater sense of excitement, until you reach the point where the pornography only goes so far - that jumping off point where you begin to think maybe actually doing it will give you that which is just beyond reading about it and looking at it.

JCD: How long did you stay at that point before you actually assaulted someone?

Ted: A couple of years. I was dealing with very strong inhibitions against criminal and violent behavior. That had been conditioned and bred into me from my neighborhood, environment, church, and schools.

I knew it was wrong to think about it, and certainly, to do it was wrong. I was on the edge, and the last vestiges of restraint were being tested constantly, and assailed through the kind of fantasy life that was fueled, largely, by pornography.

JCD: Do you remember what pushed you over that edge? Do you remember the decision to “go for it”? Do you remember where you decided to throw caution to the wind?

Ted: It’s a very difficult thing to describe - the sensation of reaching that point where I knew I couldn’t control it anymore. The barriers I had learned as a child were not enough to hold me back from seeking out and harming somebody.

JCD: Would it be accurate to call that a sexual frenzy?

Ted: That’s one way to describe it - a compulsion, a building up of this destructive energy. Another fact I haven’t mentioned is the use of alcohol. In conjunction with my exposure to pornography, alcohol reduced my inhibitions and pornography eroded them further.

JCD: After you committed your first murder, what was the emotional effect? What happened in the days after that?

Ted: Even all these years later, it is difficult to talk about. Reliving it through talking about it is difficult to say the least, but I want you to understand what happened. It was like coming out of some horrible trance or dream. I can only liken it to (and I don’t want to overdramatize it) being possessed by something so awful and alien, and the next morning waking up and remembering what happened and realizing that in the eyes of the law, and certainly in the eyes of God, you’re responsible. To wake up in the morning and realize what I had done with a clear mind, with all my essential moral and ethical feelings intact, absolutely horrified me.

JCD: You hadn’t known you were capable of that before?

Ted: There is no way to describe the brutal urge to do that, and once it has been satisfied, or spent, and that energy level recedes, I became myself again. Basically, I was a normal person.


There are those loose in their towns and communities, like me, whose dangerous impulses are being fueled, day in and day out, by violence in the media in its various forms - particularly sexualized violence.

Ted: I wasn’t some guy hanging out in bars, or a bum. I wasn’t a pervert in the sense that people look at somebody and say, “I know there’s something wrong with him.” I was a normal person. I had good friends. I led a normal life, except for this one, small but very potent and destructive segment that I kept very secret and close to myself. Those of us who have been so influenced by violence in the media, particularly pornographic violence, are not some kind of inherent monsters. We are your sons and husbands. We grew up in regular families. Pornography can reach in and snatch a kid out of any house today. It snatched me out of my home 20 or 30 years ago. As diligent as my parents were, and they were diligent in protecting their children, and as good a Christian home as we had, there is no protection against the kinds of influences that are loose in a society that tolerates....

JCD: Outside these walls, there are several hundred reporters that wanted to talk to you, and you asked me to come because you had something you wanted to say. You feel that hardcore pornography, and the door to it, softcore pornography, is doing untold damage to other people and causing other women to be abused and killed the way you did.

Ted: I’m no social scientist, and I don’t pretend to believe what John Q. Citizen thinks about this, but I’ve lived in prison for a long time now, and I’ve met a lot of men who were motivated to commit violence. Without exception, every one of them was deeply involved in pornography - deeply consumed by the addiction. The F.B.I.’s own study on serial homicide shows that the most common interest among serial killers is pornographers. It’s true.

JCD: What would your life have been like without that influence?

Ted: I know it would have been far better, not just for me, but for a lot of other people - victims and families. There’s no question that it would have been a better life. I’m absolutely certain it would not have involved this kind of violence.

JCD: If I were able to ask the kind of questions that are being asked, one would be, “Are you thinking about all those victims and their families that are so wounded? Years later, their lives aren’t normal. They will never be normal. Is there remorse?”

Ted: I know people will accuse me of being self-serving, but through God’s help, I have been able to come to the point, much too late, where I can feel the hurt and the pain I am responsible for. Yes. Absolutely! During the past few days, myself and a number of investigators have been talking about unsolved cases - murders I was involved in. It’s hard to talk about all these years later, because it revives all the terrible feelings and thoughts that I have steadfastly and diligently dealt with - I think successfully. It has been reopened and I have felt the pain and the horror of that.

I hope that those who I have caused so much grief, even if they don’t believe my expression of sorrow, will believe what I’m saying now; there are those loose in their towns and communities, like me, whose dangerous impulses are being fueled, day in and day out, by violence in the media in its various forms - particularly sexualized violence. What scares me is when I see what’s on cable T.V. Some of the violence in the movies that come into homes today is stuff they wouldn’t show in X-rated adult theatres 30 years ago.

JCD: The slasher movies?

Ted: That is the most graphic violence on screen, especially when children are unattended or unaware that they could be a Ted Bundy; that they could have a predisposition to that kind of behavior.

JCD: One of the final murders you committed was 12-year-old Kimberly Leach. I think the public outcry is greater there because an innocent child was taken from a playground. What did you feel after that? Were they the normal emotions after that?

Ted: I can’t really talk about that right now. It’s too painful. I would like to be able to convey to you what that experience is like, but I won’t be able to talk about that. I can’t begin to understand the pain that the parents of these children and young women that I have harmed feel. And I can’t restore much to them, if anything. I won’t pretend to, and I don’t even expect them to forgive me. I’m not asking for it. That kind of forgiveness is of God; if they have it, they have it, and if they don’t, maybe they’ll find it someday.

JCD: Do you deserve the punishment the state has inflicted upon you?

Ted: That’s a very good question. I don’t want to die; I won’t kid you. I deserve, certainly, the most extreme punishment society has. And I think society deserves to be protected from me and from others like me. That’s for sure. What I hope will come of our discussion is that I think society deserves to be protected from itself. As we have been talking, there are forces at loose in this country, especially this kind of violent pornography, where, on one hand, well-meaning people will condemn the behavior of a Ted Bundy while they’re walking past a magazine rack full of the very kinds of things that send young kids down the road to being Ted Bundys. That’s the irony.

I’m talking about going beyond retribution, which is what people want with me. There is no way in the world that killing me is going to restore those beautiful children to their parents and correct and soothe the pain. But there are lots of other kids playing in streets around the country today who are going to be dead tomorrow, and the next day, because other young people are reading and seeing the kinds of things that are available in the media today.

JCD: There is tremendous cynicism about you on the outside, I suppose, for good reason. I’m not sure there’s anything you could say that people would believe, yet you told me (and I have heard this through our mutual friend, John Tanner) that you have accepted the forgiveness of Jesus Christ and are a follower and believer in Him. Do you draw strength from that as you approach these final hours?

Ted: I do. I can’t say that being in the Valley of the Shadow of Death is something I’ve become all that accustomed to, and that I’m strong and nothing’s bothering me. It’s no fun. It gets kind of lonely, yet I have to remind myself that every one of us will go through this someday in one way or another.

JCD: It’s appointed unto man.

Ted: Countless millions who have walked this earth before us have gone through this, so this is just an experience we all share.

Ted Bundy was executed at 7:15 am the day after this conversation was recorded.

http://rigorousintuition.blogspot.com/2005/03/henry-portrait-of-bush-supporter.html

If this isn't trash on Bush, I don't know what is!

Maria misses you so much. She has been going through a lot and needs to walk down to the mall and send you your Pinky Floyd.

I was going to paste my mental disorders paper here for you to read, but my disk in on crack and just REFUSES to bring it up.

I love Japanese men.

Jet Li is Chinese though.

Wait! I can bring up my case histories, just not my mental disorders.

***Note: The diagnosises (sp?) were written by me. They are educated (heh) guesses as a part of my project. Don't take them as gospel.***

Case Histories and Profiles

Ted Bundy

As a child he was cold, unfeeling, and unable to make friends. He was very shy in school and was teased constantly. When he reached adulthood, he discovered that the woman whom he had believed to be his older sister was actually his mother and that “mom and dad” were his grandparents. Bundy was an aspiring politician who was also studying to be a lawyer. He was handsome, charming, well educated, confident, and friendly. No one suspected that he could be responsible for the torture, rape, and manipulation of at least twenty eight young women. He attributed his crimes to his pornography addiction and was executed on January 24, 1989.








Name: Theodore Robert Bundy

Race: White

Sex: Male

Age (when first murder was committed): 28

Education: College Level

Murder patterns and practices:
Killed women with long brown hair that was parted in the middle, practiced such paraphilias as necrophilia, sadism, masochism, rape

Diagnosis:
His paraphilia, pathological conscience, and need for power indicate that he had malignant narcissism. Perhaps his need for power derived from the helplessness he felt due to his family situation. The fact that he always assumed the role of an honest and friendly man combined with his extreme violation of the rights of others points to antisocial personality disorder.




Jeffrey Dahmer

Jeffrey Dahmer had a normal family life, but an unhappy childhood due to being raped by a neighbor. As a child he was a loner who enjoyed torturing and killing animals. He longed for friendship and intimacy (not necessarily sexual) which his extreme shyness and lack of emotion rendered him unable to attain. At age eighteen he picked up a stray hitchhiker and committed his first murder. In an effort to keep the hitchhiker from leaving his home, he killed and dismembered the man, which was a procedure he found to be sexually arousing.

Dahmer lured men to his apartment, where he would drug, kill, and rape their dead bodies. He would drill a hole into the unconscious victim’s head and inject acid in an effort to create zombie slaves who would be with him forever.

Dahmer was arrested on July 23, 1991, and on November 28, 1994 was beaten to death in prison.









Name: Jeffrey Llionel Dahmer

Race: White

Sex: Male

Age (when first murder was committed): 18

Education: High School

Murder patterns and practices:
Killed young Black, Hispanic, and Asian men, practiced such paraphilas as necrophilia, rape, cannibalism, dismemberment

Diagnosis:
Jeffrey Dahmer had shown signs of both schizoid and malignant narcissistic personality disorders and paraphilia. His alienation from others due to schizoid personality disorder clashed with his longing for friendship and intimacy. Murdering his victims to keep them from leaving him was his way of breaking through his alienation. His efforts to create zombie slaves illustrated his need for power. Along with this, his pathological conscience, and paraphilia one would have obviously labelled him as having malignant narcissistic personality disorder


Henry Lee Lucas ***(Read about the H.L.L. and Bush scandal!!!!)***

As a child, Henry Lee Lucas was subjected to extreme abuse. His mother, Viola, who was a prostitute, used to force him to watch her perform sex acts. She would kill the pets that he brought home, beat him mercilessly, sent him to school in girls clothes, and denied him basic health care. When his brother stabbed him in the eye, she left him suffer until the town doctor had to surgically remove the gushing orb. One of Viola’s live-in lovers, “Uncle Bernie”, introduced him to bestiality. He taught him how to properly torture, rape, and kill animals.

Lucas committed his first murder at age fifteen when he strangled a woman for refusing him sex. In 1954 he was arrested for burglary. Upon his release in 1960, he stabbed his seventy four year old mother to death and attempted a kidnapping. He was paroled in 1970, and in 1979 met and became close friends with Ottis Toole, a serial killer who claimed to be involved with a Satanic cult. Together they took their murderous act on the road. In 1982 he murdered his girlfriend, the thirteen year old niece of Toole, and one other woman. He admitted to killing over six hundred people, but many of his murder claims were false. After vigorous investigations police are still baffled. It is believed that his body count is anywhere from six to one hundred people. In his confession he admitted to necrophilia: “ I had sex, intercourse with her (Toole’s niece). It’s one of those things that I guess got to be part of my life, having sexual intercourse with the dead.” He died in his prison cell of heart failure in 2001.







Name: Henry Lee Lucas

Race: White

Sex: Male

Education: N/A

Murder patterns and practices:
He murdered women who were close to him and practiced such paraphilias as rape and necrophilia

Diagnosis:
Henry Lee Lucas had antisocial personality disorder, which explains why he was constantly in and out of prison. The prostitution of his mother made sex seem ugly to him, which is why he engaged in necrophilia, an indication of paraphilia, and the murder of women. The torture of animals taught to him by “Uncle Bernie” taught him to view life and cheap and worthless, so he thought nothing of his crimes and even exaggerated them, as though he was proud (perhaps he was).

( To My Maria )

Catalepsy is the loss of control of one's limbs. It has been discovered that in addition to being a crackho, my computer also has catalepsy. :(

I like gay porn.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked,
upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!

Hola Nicole...I mean Nico (must use online alias)...my computer is still fighting that abominable addiction and is known to the world as what one would call a "crackwhore". Not very P.C. but there it is, sadly.

Every fibre of my intricate being yearns to once again update our live journal and talk to you about fros, Bono's wife, and the Wall.

I miss three...and hope that once again we shall be reunited in the hereafter....no..not in the hereafter because time is on my side still...in the live journal.

Peace, yo

I have spoken. All depart.

The Gnome
(Barrett) 2:13

I want to tell you a story
About a little man
If I can.
A gnome named Grimble Crumble.
And little gnomes stay in their homes.
Eating, sleeping, drinking their wine.

He wore a scarlet tunic,
A blue green hood,
It looked quite good.
He had a big adventure
Amidst the grass
Fresh air at last.
Wining, dining, biding his time.
And then one day - hooray!
Another way for gnomes to say
Oooooooooomray.

Look at the sky, look at the river
Isn't it good?
Look at the sky, look at the river
Isn't it good?
Winding, finding places to go.
And then one day - hooray!
Another way for gnomes to say
Oooooooooomray.
Ooooooooooooooomray.


Diet pepsi makes me see gnomes.

Me, as a lego mistress, waiting in my dungeon for Bono.

You are BOY! You're fresh, new, and have your whole
life still to live! Sometimes you're
under-appreciated, but if you get going, people
will see you're something special.


Which U2 Album Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

My dearest friend and frequent lover,

I talked to my mum last night about your graduation and my coming up to see you (perhaps we can throw a slumber party with Roger Daltrey, Adam, Bono, and Larry while I'm up there), and she said that she's willing to talk to your mum whenever the time is convenient for both of them. So, everything is going smoothly right now. We just really need to start getting into financial sources and the such. I've recieved 40 dollars through bracelet sales already, so I think now would be good time to seriously start discussing the sale of bracelets over the internet (as you suggested).

Love You Much,
Nicole

[+] I would have talked to you over the phone or through e-mail, but, alas, neither of these sources seem to be working towards either of our advantages today. So, my message is here.

( Don't disappoint them... )
Enjoy la lovely pictures!

I want to apologize to Adam, Adam's fro, Nicole, and my crazy ass readers (if I have any, which I doubt) for not attending to the site. My computer is on crack and must go to rehab, so I can only use the school computer (in secret).

Please, stop weeping....it's going to be okay....stay strong.

STAY TRUE TO THE FRO WITHIN.

I wish Adam Clayton was Tommy and I was his Uncle Ernie.

**THIS STORY SERIOUSLY IS A NEW LOW FOR ME. IT IS THE WORST PIECE OF TOXIC SHITE THAT MY MIND HAS EVER PRODUCED AND I HONESTLY APOLOGIZE IF IT OFFENDS ANYONE (WHICH IT JUST MIGHT). I ACKNOWLEDGE THE FACT THAT IT IS PURE TRASH AND MORALLY DEGRADING. CHILDREN, DO NOT READ THIS STORY, AS IT IS NOT REALISTIC OR MORAL. LARRY FLINT WOULD NOT EVEN PUBLISH THIS STORY, THOUGH PERHAPS ANDY WARHOL WOULD HAVE LIKED IT. IT TRULY IS STUPID, SENSELESS, X-RATED GARBAGE. ENJOY.**

Close Encounters of the Dominatrix Kind
A story by a special human being
March 23, 2004

“I am so horny that I could fuck a sheep in the ass!”, exclaimed Adam Clayton as he was strolling through a porno strip in Oklahoma. He was on his one week break from the tour and had not had sex in two whole days. Adam Clayton, being a sex god, was not used to abstaining from sex for more than a few hours. Three years ago, he had a bad sexual experience and declared abstinence. He lasted seven hours, twenty three minutes, and four seconds.
He needed penis relief, and he needed it quickly. It was so big and hard and the volcano was about to erupt all over his rhinestone and orange leather pants. “Concentration…I must focus my mind on a non-sexual object…I’ll think about that pretty log cabin with the fluffy clouds surrounding it in which I once stayed…wait…logs…loooooooooooooooooggggsssssss…Larry beat me with a loooog…”
It was no use. He was about to have some crotch ice cream when he saw a cozy little peepshow. He fumbled around his pants until he found a one hundred dollar bill and slipped it into the machine. The screen slowly rose, and Adam beheld an attractively chubby girl in a leather suit whipping a skinny girl who was wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and Bono sunglasses.
It was no secret that Adam was pissed at Bono. Adam was the sexy one. Adam was the liberal one (after all, it was HE who removed that gerbil from that guy’s ass for PETA, not Bono.). Adam was the one who wore g-strings. NOT BONO! Adam was the real MacPhisto. So when he saw that girl wearing the Bono sunglasses he had an adrenaline rush to his penis. He beat it and beat it until it was smooth, then he broke the glass down, kidnapped the chubby one, and stole the glasses from the skinny one.
Away with the chubby one he ran to the solitude and confinement of his artist’s loft. He locked her in a glass cage that he had constructed himself in his spare time. A few hours later, when she was calmed down and realized what an awesome situation this was, Adam approached the glass. He stripped off his clothes (even the baby pink g-string) and pressed his hot bodice against the glass and started to rub up and down. As his manly juices were whitewashing the glass, he had a revelation: He was going to collect dominatrixes. He was going to kidnap thousands and keep them all in a glass cage and watch them beat each other. Every once in a while he would walk in and get the lashing of a lifetime. Ooh. Er.
Adam quickly redressed and ran back to the peepshow. He took out some bills, ran them through the machine, and slowly watched as the screen rose. “What will this girl look like? Will she be big and beautiful…lots of junk in the trunk and a big, fluffy, platinum blonde fro (on her head) like mine?”, he thought. When the screen was all the way up, he grabbed his penis and started to caress the throbbing vessel. In a sensuous haze he looked up and beheld, not a big and beautiful bonny lass, but Steve Buscemi on a white rocking horse wearing a magenta bikini and whipping himself with a cat o’ nine tails.
Yummy.
Adam was so taken aback that he cummed all over the screen. Steve took this as a sign of love and broke through the glass, handcuffing Adam and dragging him away.
When Adam woke up, he realized that he was sitting in a Chinese basket and that Steve was running around naked with a hot poker stick with “WHAM! Rap ‘86” playing as the background music. This was a wee bit of a fucked up situation for Adam. He screamed. Steve also screamed, as if mocking him. Then he fell to his knees and plunged the hot poker into his chest screaming “enjoy what you do” in a voice that successfully imitated that of George Michael’s.
Adam had no option but to submit to this degradation, but first he had to tell sexy Stevie (as he had come to be called) about his locked up dominatrix. Sexy Stevie screeched “GROOVY!” and went to Adam’s pad to get her.
In the mean time, Adam had nothing to do but masturbate. So he did. He used a hot poker.
When sexy Stevie came back, he was making out with the dominatrix. They both approached Adam, and took him out of his soiled basket and laid him on the floor. Then everyone stripped and had an orgy. Adam was squished in the middle like a crème centered cookie. Steve pushed his big penis into Adam’s mouth and the dominatrix stuck the poker in Adam’s ass. Steve cummed all over Adam’s face and he began to choke on the bitter cum. Adam wiggled his tongue around his mouth, trying to suck up all the cum, then he snowballed sexy Stevie.
What!?! Have they forgot about the dominatrix girl during all of this winter action? Hell no. Just when she was about to get the videocamera, sexy Stevie grabbed her leg and bit her in the ass with those sensual teeth of his. The Adam ran up to her and squeezed her breasts while sucking Steve.
When the week was over, Adam had to go back and finish the tour. Things were never the same again. Every night he dreamed of sexy Stevie snowballing him, and occasionally, he thought of his little domintrix. Bono got wind of this story and wrote a whole album devoted to it. Now it was Bono who was jealous of Adam. Adam was MacPhisto.
FINE

**Be sure to keep a lookout for the story about how Bono was invited to join Adam, sexy Stevie, the dominatrix, and the horse. Cumming soon to a porno store near you.**

I had a threesome with Steve Buscemi and Adam Clayton. I think a work of pornographic art might come of this!

;)

Bush, Please (Stay Far Away)

Yo, yo, yo; Listen what I say,
Not too fond of Baby Bush today.
He's taking all our money,
Running down our schools,
I think he might be trying to poison ou' food.
Stop the violence! Save the whales!
Support Greenpeace, yo!
'Tis the way to go!