And there I saw my own face staring back at me in dutiful contempt: And I pissed in it's nose.
Ah-hoy!
Oh, dearest of dears, the adventures that has A-Waited and gone altwo'ff! Ho-ho! Ha-ha!
Months - though it does seem like years ago - Months ago, my most splendid of Comrades, DonCabFan, had set off from his native executionary land of Tex-As to arrive at my Home's-Land, my native, by wreched, my Croatia. I had sent for a Pirate's-Ship to transport him across the Dangerous-High seas that separate our lands. Captioneered by my friend Horatio Der-Pirate, the ship containing it's precious cargo of friendship, military-grade assault weaponry, and pre-teen Peruvian Anal-Slaves was to make Lands-Meet about a week after it's setting course.
Dearest DonCabFan was lost when, after basking in the glorious blood of a boatload of Mediterranean Cruise-Goers, he and his comradal crew were harassed by a rowdy gang of interstellar travelars, whom I had called upon to ensure safe passage. Ha! They did not ensure such: They dashed most of the crew to pieces and left dearest DonCabFan stranded and wandering through the deserts of Northern-Negro-Land. The poorest soul! He sought only the comforting buttocks of I, his dearest friend, but was sooner ravaging the bony rectum of a frightened and shivering Libyan boy after stealing his Muslim's-Lunch.
Oh pity it all to the damnest of infestations!
So, I am hear to ring word through that my dearest of dears, DonCabFan, has finally arrived in the blood-of-forefather's-soaked land of Croatia and will be visiting my Cellar in a soon and whisk-like manner.
Lo, such is not all good news, though. I did recieve word from a reliable source (read: cactus-induced hallucinatory-witch) that while wandering through the Lost Land of Yemen, DonCabFan did mistakenly look Crossed-Eyed at the local Imam, thus resulting in both hands and both ears burnt off with a heated rake. I hope that he can type and give pleasure with his feets!
So, here I am, once again awaiting the arrival of my Long-Lost Texasian friend. My days of mourning are over. No longer will I simply hold an Elder-Woman's head under the surface of the wash tub's filthy water without having the will to reap the sweet pleasure of her Castor-Oil enslickened colon. No longer shall I crack the spines of Grcitzia's orphaned Serbian Wars-Children for my deep-seated Vengeance-Want without finding the stregnth and desire to sever various limbs and Face-Features. No, I shall annihilate their faces, those disgusting Swine's-Children. No more mourning for I!
Come, DonCabFan! Come, and let us reduce this horrific city to a sinew-soaked desolation dump of the damned! A-hoy!
Oh, dearest of dears, the adventures that has A-Waited and gone altwo'ff! Ho-ho! Ha-ha!
Months - though it does seem like years ago - Months ago, my most splendid of Comrades, DonCabFan, had set off from his native executionary land of Tex-As to arrive at my Home's-Land, my native, by wreched, my Croatia. I had sent for a Pirate's-Ship to transport him across the Dangerous-High seas that separate our lands. Captioneered by my friend Horatio Der-Pirate, the ship containing it's precious cargo of friendship, military-grade assault weaponry, and pre-teen Peruvian Anal-Slaves was to make Lands-Meet about a week after it's setting course.
Dearest DonCabFan was lost when, after basking in the glorious blood of a boatload of Mediterranean Cruise-Goers, he and his comradal crew were harassed by a rowdy gang of interstellar travelars, whom I had called upon to ensure safe passage. Ha! They did not ensure such: They dashed most of the crew to pieces and left dearest DonCabFan stranded and wandering through the deserts of Northern-Negro-Land. The poorest soul! He sought only the comforting buttocks of I, his dearest friend, but was sooner ravaging the bony rectum of a frightened and shivering Libyan boy after stealing his Muslim's-Lunch.
Oh pity it all to the damnest of infestations!
So, I am hear to ring word through that my dearest of dears, DonCabFan, has finally arrived in the blood-of-forefather's-soaked land of Croatia and will be visiting my Cellar in a soon and whisk-like manner.
Lo, such is not all good news, though. I did recieve word from a reliable source (read: cactus-induced hallucinatory-witch) that while wandering through the Lost Land of Yemen, DonCabFan did mistakenly look Crossed-Eyed at the local Imam, thus resulting in both hands and both ears burnt off with a heated rake. I hope that he can type and give pleasure with his feets!
So, here I am, once again awaiting the arrival of my Long-Lost Texasian friend. My days of mourning are over. No longer will I simply hold an Elder-Woman's head under the surface of the wash tub's filthy water without having the will to reap the sweet pleasure of her Castor-Oil enslickened colon. No longer shall I crack the spines of Grcitzia's orphaned Serbian Wars-Children for my deep-seated Vengeance-Want without finding the stregnth and desire to sever various limbs and Face-Features. No, I shall annihilate their faces, those disgusting Swine's-Children. No more mourning for I!
Come, DonCabFan! Come, and let us reduce this horrific city to a sinew-soaked desolation dump of the damned! A-hoy!