May 22, 2004 21:38
Greetings larynxes
We are the wardens of this village, our names are Ona, Youthful Harlot and Dame Lurch. The Ancient Bard hath cometh! Prepare for the end...of sanity!!!!!
The collective wants to welcome thee, leave thy straitjackets at the door as you enter. He he ha ha!
Now lets be serious and eat a grape. There are three of us here and we're sitting in the dark praying that our 'friend' won't notice we're blocking him. How long does it take for the message to get through, he's tried the door twice!
I hear his rap rap rapping on my asylum door! Like wrapping p--er. What obscenity we utter from this pit of degredation and depravity!
It cometh! It cometh! Nay, foul spectre of the morn and aft, do you hear the verbal intricacies of the AQA dominating your cranium? No? We do, all the time! Until June 25th. Now, begone! Begone, foul reader of this indignant page!
Now, shut up!
Quotation of the session: "The old item, a scan of a hand-printed Tennessee police report" Hannibal, Thomas Harris
Word of the week: Heterogenesis. Something which Ona did last summer, the wench.