PREFACE Everyday I rub my penis for three minutes, it's a tradition, I wear a golden mask and sing the national anthem backwards. I never cum, but oh the places I go. Meditation subjects, I find the most peaceful Meditation to be a visual one. I think about a giant machine with a crusher hammer that falls every three seconds to smash a Christian to a bloody mess. I think "one", and see the fucknummer rolling down the belt as the hammer rises, "two" see the hammer begin to fall while assfunk picks his nose "three", the hammer strikes and blood spurts everywhere. I feel three months younger afterwards.
-- Andrew McFing
Tippy Rushdale loved America like the knob of his penis. He would gladly kill over and over again anyone his sacred country told him to. He also loved Dawn Lotus , a mail order bride from Thailand. He could not pronounce her name so he had it legally changed to Dawn which sounded more American anyway. When America started its war on terrorism Tippy signed up. He couldn't wait to kill as many of them bastards as he could while peeing on their country. Love and war go together like booze and drinking and soon he was on his way, tired out from video taped marathon sex with his eighteen year old non-English speaking bride. He bought enough cheap microwave food and ramen noodles for her to live like a queen while he was gone. She was living much better than she did back home anyway.
Ah the pleasures of war, his first duty was guarding prisoners in a Latin American camp. The location of these people was secret. Although most of these prisoners were obviously from Uglavaria, one of the three countries the USA was currently invading, but about forty of them were from America. So many fucking traitors, he kicked them whenever he got the chance, and he got quite good at spitting on them too. Three weeks into this he got to shoot his first man. A journalist from Peru was trying to line up some photos of the nightly prisoner beatings. Tippy blasted a round into his chest and another into his arm. The man lived after surgery in the crude medical center of this complex, so the man became a indefinite resident here in Cell 342b. Tippy loved his job, it was kinda slow and boring at times , but kicking the prisoners and beating them up was a great release. It made him love Dawn all that much more, and love Jesus too. He had taught Dawn how to say Jesus, but that was as far into Christianity he had got with her so far. Dawn was so cute, and gave such groovy head, he missed her when he wasn't mounting a local whore. Some of the local whores were pretty good at cock sucking.
Then he was called out to active duty in Iraq. He felt sure he would get to kill many non-Christians and he was so excited he forgot all about Dawn back home for awhile. Meanwhile Dawn met Tippy's neighbor Bock Carter. These round eyes tended to look alike and she mistook Bock for her husband. She walked up to him smiling a charming smile. Bock smiled back. She took his hand and led him inside her home, to the bedroom where she went down on her knees and gave him a luscious blow job and had him exploding into her mouth, she lapped up all the cum while looking him in the eye. "Jesus", Dawn said.
What makes America great? Homegrown tomatoes, and sacrafising children to the tomatoe God. Makeing drugs illegal and then shipping them into the states to sell them on the streets makes America great. Tea bagging your buddy while he sleeps and takeing a picture is what makes America great. Big trucks that block the view of others on the road makes America great. The power of modern video cameras makes America great, no one shits and wipes unrecorded now, unless it's done in a few select areas of American wilderness. Making others obey God makes this country great, and if you do so then you can let a few rules slide on your side. Prayer in school to Jesus and no other makes America even greater.
But what weakens America? The mongrel races not knowing they're places, and Reproducing with decent white women, that and nude swimmin after dark at the pool in the park. Hip hop and body pierceings ruin America.
WHAT WE SHOULD DO ABOUT IT:
Goddess bless America long may she dominate the world with endless missiles and explosives, long may we spill blood for the profit of the rich elite. Drain it all, own it all, throw it all away.
A nuclear war or some other disaster far away , like Africa or Asia. There are high radiation levels. Everyone is dieing , the whole human race. Everyone gets into promiscuous sex. No need for birth control, everyone is sterile. No worrys about sexual disease, we are all dieing anyway. I smoke lots of drugs and I go around gathering items for my Great Library of the Dead. Crates of DVD's taken from the smoking ruins of the Golden Buy store. A few visits to the library with a wheel barrow, a lot of missing stuff already, including it's entire occult section. A man dressed in black with long brown hair was wheeling the books out as I entered. I stop outside the library to vomit some blood, more drugs and I'm on my way again.
At work again, 12 hours a day slaving for the man. Blank had been at it for five hours, and it was time for a fifteen minute break. You drag your self to the dimly lit breakroom. There your pale burned out co-workers suck synth-coffee like their life depends on it. You slip some credits into the grimey vending machine. Paint chips, somewhat stale, You chew them down,and grease it with a swig of imported water. seven hours left, you think. You light a cigerette, pale purple smoke floats from it. Bland chatter all around you , bland grey talk from burned out humans sucking smoke and synth caffine down. You sit there and think about just how fast that fifteen minute break goes by , but you have only began to think of it when break is over and you march tiredly back to work.
A man died today on the job. He got his shirt caught in the teeth of one of those giant cogs that work thier way accross the factory. It just sorta sucked him up and ripped him apart. Blank was one of several put on mop duty. A touring exec was coming in about forty minutes to tour the factory and the boss did'nt want any blood or twitching meat chunks left visable. Normally Blank got to have a lunch break after being there eight hours , the lunch break being the last break of the day. But do to the tour lunch was cancelled that day and everyone worked right through. The tour exec , one Kirby Hestle , was the company president's second son. He was a real arrogent asshole. He had all the employees gather together at the end of their shift and fired a couple of them becuase he didn't like their looks. Jack Ponpoblid was fired, and Ponpoblid was Blank's energy powder contact. Dammit.
After ten hours of hard core work there was an aanouncement that the employees were all to gather in the dim now dis-used room by the cog room where Blank's co worker died. When all hundred thirty eight grey employees had gathered in this room , thier superviser came in with four burly security men. The Superviser said that he had a short list of people who had been caught on camera taking long breaks. Blank's name came up first , he had taken an extra 38 seconds break yesterday. The security men surrounded Blank , he tried to break free of them but they overpowered him. The superviser worrked him over with a series of gut punches , when released Blank slumped to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Four more employees were punished during this session. Then everyone was ordered back to work.
After elevan and a half hours of work Blank was nearly too tired too stand and the boss got on the P A system and said that they were behind on thier work today do to having to have a disapline session and everyone was going to have to work a extra forty five minutes for free.
Blank's co-workers shot him hatefull glances. As he moved heavy parts around he often heard "Asshole!" , and other names behind his back. At the worst point somebody pushed him from behind while he had an armload of heavy steel parts. He fell with a clammor and somebody else said "Smooth move exlax." Blank picked up a long piece of metal that could be used as a club , he look about him in a seething rage. Every one looked innoscent as they backed up. Blank through the weapon down and stormed off. Finally quitting time came , Skipp Blank found one of his tires had it's air let out and was flat. He had a spare but he was too tired to change it. He crawled into his car , locked the door and fell into a deep sleep. He woke up late the next afternoon. Four hours till work he thought bitterly.
Annie Miles hurried to her next class , dead sea scrolls theory. She didn't want to take it , but it was mandatory to get a degree. New law , point of light number 472. Professer Orville Fudpacker the 3rd was a deeply religous man who has served a one year prison term for killing street people to make leather for his hand crafted bibles.
The first day was stressfull. Fudpacker browbeat the class putting his face close to everybody's heads to smell their thoughts. One student, Tom Monk, was thrown out violently by Fudpacker. Orville said he was a homosexual. He told Annie to wait till after class. She waited, wandering what was up. Alone with her in his office , he activated a hidden camera , and toyed with the head of his penis , hidden from view. Annie glanced nervously around the wall , ceiling , and floor of mirrored tile. Good thing I'm not wearing a dress , she thought. She could see reflections of herself at every angle repeated along the walls , wierd. He was holding a file on her , it appeared to be around two hundred pages thick. She wandered how much information was in there. "I read that your majoring in vegitable psychology".
"Yes , from there I will rise to my career goal , vegitable metaphysics" , she said proudly.
"Well if you want that degree your gonna have to undress for me".
"What?" , she said shocked.
"You heard me , remember your career is in my hands". His penis was in his hands to. She sobbed and pulled off her top , her breasts were tiny , small pale nipples. His hand pulled up and squeezed , pulled down and relaxed. She undid her jeans and slid them down. Blue pantys , scanty and sexy. She wiggled solumly out of them. His hand pumped harder while he slid his desk aside. "Look at my penis! Look Look!" , he cheered stroking faster now , the veins in his neck bulging out. She looked at it repeating the ninteys mantra , "Think about the money. Think about the money". Luckily for Annie , Fudpacker quickly spurted and lost all interest in her.
Still stoned, three days straight. Deric Moolman husks off to sleep in a dizzy cone of infinant buzz. That night he has yet another end of the world dream:
Life alone in a big house. Some unclear thing has destroyed everyone else in the area , vary likely the entire world. Deric can't leave the house or he will die too. Then hundreds of wasps began to fly about the house. He is consumed by rage, being stuck in this house full of wasps. He sees that the floor is covered with sand. He throws handfulls of sand at the wasps, trying to knock them to the ground so he can grind crush then underfoot. Already they are landing on him, crawling up and down his coat, looking for a soft spot to sting. He brushes them off with a grunt of revultion.
Deric offers a quick prayer to his own feverish thoughts
Deric gets a ride with Paul Grant and marc frosthing Jr. to a special lubricant store.but it was now a fried pumpkin rinds,and used hairbrush store.It seemed to change once a month or so.They drove by it one drunken reeling night and saw it offered frozen foods made from unnamed animals already hunted into extinction in the rain forests before scientists ever got a chance to discover them. Deric bought some tuber moth crackers, and mushrooms that cure cancer,and give you harder firmer erections.This became an obsession for Deric He would save up all month and go to the same location to see what was there this time....
Donna Munt rode accross the desert on a modified horse. Cyborg enhancements made it's legs faster and stronger. She chewed on a kanna plant as she rode, a pleasant buzz numbing away her inner tormoil a little. She also swigged from the solar powered cooler canteen strapped to her shapely hip. The vision of her husbands murder flashed through her mind like a salvia loop. It was on a cloudy day , a day that promised rain but never delivered. She and her husband , Peter were working the fields , harvesting the rainbow flowers of a local plant , to be sent to a local perfume company for extraction of it's intoxicating scent. Perfume that gives a buzz , attracts men , a relieves minor head aches. A hot humid day , Donna took her shirt off and worked in jeans and a transparent red bra. Peter was horny as hell from the flowers they worked with and he kept trying to get on her , feeling her breasts , trying to kiss her. "Wait till we have this harvest in honey" , she told him. "Then we need to harvest me!" , he said rubbing a hand accross his own crotch. "Everything in it's do time" , she told him with a wink. She felt so good at that moment , the fumes from the petals tickleing her recepters. "Very touching" , said a gruff voice from behind the couple. They whirled and faced four gangsters dressed in black ninja outfits with chain mail armor and cowboy hats. "Yeah thats pretty fuckin sweet!" , said another gangster , the one with the ivory and tortoise stone incrusted eye patch. "Makes me want to fuck her" , observed the ganster with the light blue skin and unicorn tattooe on his face. The last gangster said nothing , he just pulled out a viberating knife. Peter yelled "You fucks better just back off!". "You gonna stop us pussy?" , said the first gangster as he pulled out a automatically heating knife , it was quickly becoming red hot. Peter rushed forwards and gave the first gangster a hard headbutt , the man dropped his blade and fell to the ground holding his head.