Axchewal Clews

Welcome to the Winn-Dixie International Professional Baloney Eating Championship time trials, day 4.

“I don’t understand! How can you not know exactly where the poop is going?” -D

Rang tang tuna lung, buy a bottle of hooch.

Real sign: “We have a urine-mobile!”

“…realizant.” -S

Real sign: “Smoked jerky ahead!”

“…efulgent.” -S

When bees copulate, ten feet above the ground in flight, there is a loud popping sound, the drone’s penis falls off, and he dies.

Classic endomorphic bullwhip fetish, barbed, for her pleasure.

Food on the table, eat when you’re able. Food in the mouth, poop headed south.

Actual clues given in a drunken game of Taboo at K’s house, June 1998:”F*ckin’ gotta get the tube in and get the crap out!”
“I’m gonna hit that rock and there’s gonna be some TNC!”
“I’ve got a big thing.”
“The young guy who wears the hat. Don’t hit me.”
“There’s no such thing as bad p*ssy. Bad head? The other parts can’t bite back.”
“That’s the key to your heart and my liquor store.”
“You’re comparing me to welfare cheese.”
“Dog on fire.”
Old McDonald had a duck, quack quack quack quack quack.

Pants rambler.

“Oh, f*ck, I hope we have split peas!” -D

“The truth shall make you three.”

by M7

It’s pop culture time. Does everyone have their lubricant ready?

-Pop culture is liquidly self-referential and assumptive.
-The works of the old masters are wooden, yet stinking in nostalgia
-The avante garde is trite and uselessly cloistered. They disdain success on as long as they are unable to achieve it.
-So, who are we to follow? NO ONE!
-Steal elements from all of the others and allow them to accrete upon your plutonium core.
-Become a member of any movement for only the length of time it takes to undermine it.
-Don’t mourn the losses of cultural elements, for the solid is breakable while the liquid just squirts away like (like come).


For sale: one dank, urine-soaked sh*thole.

Life is exactly as complex and exciting as the empty magazine in my smoking pistol.

“Goddamn gays and nigras everywhere!” -?