(no subject)
Although this happened a few days ago, I need to accurately describe the worst experience of my life.
Now most of you kids out there know I like cookies. I love cookies as much as I do downloading bestiality porn or shanking people in their sleep with a spoon I wore down during those lengthy economics classes. However not only do I like cookies in general, but I like Pepperidge farm cookies. Even more specifically, I enjoy the Geneva Brand from the distinctive collection. If you know me, I would easily stab a homeless person or knife a small child in a Bazaar in Calcutta just for one of those babies. You could say I am addicted to it, but I would rather call eating them a pasttime and saving my addictions to other things such as heroin, cocaine, and eating babies.
So on to the story: I woke from my slumber, realizing that today was a day of the week and I had Japanese. The day of the week was insignificant because Japanese is every day, even weekends(Although whenever I go to class on the weekends I seem to be alone until the janitor comes in to say get out, and I oblige in giving him fellatio to convince him to let me stay).So upon going to the class that I stayed up all night studying words, for a medical chapter no less; including words such as rectal prolapse and decapitation, I question my reason for living as I am handed a quiz that, despite my best efforts , manages to fuck up my grade even worse. Immediately after I become the blow of all running Japanese jokes to my professor, who continually blitzkreigs me with expressions and vocabulary I dont understand. I think to myself, this day could not be any closer to that day where I accidentally hit a black person with my car in front of the Black Engineer's Convention in Hynes Convention Center. However, what was to come would be worse than that by at least 13 fold.
I returned to my room to perhaps look at pornography on my computer, pretend to sleep while actually masturbating, and enjoying one of the few delicious Geneva cookies I had stockpiled after having to viciously mug the student who bought the last one. After I finished with number 1 and 2 on my list of things to do I wet my lips with anticpation for the second orgasm in the last 10 minutes that will result from me indulging in my cookie. I tell myself I will only have one cookie, because I know the cops are looking for me since I kill people who steal my cookies and therefore must ration them. I reach inside pull one out and take a huge crunch out of half the cookie. Clearly delicious enough to give me an immediate erection. I am ready for the final blow that will bring me to nirvana or whatever you hippies call it. However, time slows down as I see something that I know has changed my life. The cookie slowly begins to fall out of my hands. Thinking back, I believe I was too excited upon having the first bite and my technique of holding the cookie became sloppy. In slow motion I see my half eaten cookie ripped by shear force of gravity plowing into the ground. As what everyone does when they see this, I immediately begin using my physics skills into calculating the rate of decent assuming there is no wind resistance. I am shocked by the conclusion to find that based upon my average rate of reaction speed, I am unable to rescue my cookie of which I held infinite emotional attatchment to. I do not know what hit the ground first, my tears or the cookie, but I do know that the sight of the collision is burned into my mind forever, only to be repeated everytime I close my eyes. Shards of chocolate ricochet off the body on to the carpet, and finally the full mass of the cookie come to a halt on the tainted rug that covers the floor of my abode. I immedately fall to my knees in the best immitation I can do of a Gary Oldman death scene. My world: Shattered, incomplete. I immediatly question suicide and decide that my cookie would have wanted me to go on and keep living. I tell the cookie in my mind that he is a lying whore and needs to shut up, but then I realize what the cookie(that now haunts my dreams) meant. He knew that there would be more experiences in eating Geneva cookies and that I would soon get over the emotional difficulties that I am forced to suffer through immediately. I know I must go through a greiving period and I immediatly set my wardrobe for black in the coming days. In my dreams I see can only see the violence that occured to my cookies and contemplate starting up an organization that would abolish all floors. But then common sense occurs to me, how would I go to get my Geneva cookies If there were no floors, clearly my Geneva cookies need some sort of hovering device so that they can find their home which is my stomach and eventually the toilet bowl that I use to celebrate that time of the day.
As you can now see, i am less of a man, woman, computer, everything. If I can go back in time I know I would have not acted so foolishly but I can only mourn for so long, and clearly that length is aproximatly 10-12 years.
So there you have it, the worst experience of my life. I have told you all I know, and I can only give so many specifics until the feds realize it Is I who have been eating babies and killing innocent children who steal my precious Genevas.
Now most of you kids out there know I like cookies. I love cookies as much as I do downloading bestiality porn or shanking people in their sleep with a spoon I wore down during those lengthy economics classes. However not only do I like cookies in general, but I like Pepperidge farm cookies. Even more specifically, I enjoy the Geneva Brand from the distinctive collection. If you know me, I would easily stab a homeless person or knife a small child in a Bazaar in Calcutta just for one of those babies. You could say I am addicted to it, but I would rather call eating them a pasttime and saving my addictions to other things such as heroin, cocaine, and eating babies.
So on to the story: I woke from my slumber, realizing that today was a day of the week and I had Japanese. The day of the week was insignificant because Japanese is every day, even weekends(Although whenever I go to class on the weekends I seem to be alone until the janitor comes in to say get out, and I oblige in giving him fellatio to convince him to let me stay).So upon going to the class that I stayed up all night studying words, for a medical chapter no less; including words such as rectal prolapse and decapitation, I question my reason for living as I am handed a quiz that, despite my best efforts , manages to fuck up my grade even worse. Immediately after I become the blow of all running Japanese jokes to my professor, who continually blitzkreigs me with expressions and vocabulary I dont understand. I think to myself, this day could not be any closer to that day where I accidentally hit a black person with my car in front of the Black Engineer's Convention in Hynes Convention Center. However, what was to come would be worse than that by at least 13 fold.
I returned to my room to perhaps look at pornography on my computer, pretend to sleep while actually masturbating, and enjoying one of the few delicious Geneva cookies I had stockpiled after having to viciously mug the student who bought the last one. After I finished with number 1 and 2 on my list of things to do I wet my lips with anticpation for the second orgasm in the last 10 minutes that will result from me indulging in my cookie. I tell myself I will only have one cookie, because I know the cops are looking for me since I kill people who steal my cookies and therefore must ration them. I reach inside pull one out and take a huge crunch out of half the cookie. Clearly delicious enough to give me an immediate erection. I am ready for the final blow that will bring me to nirvana or whatever you hippies call it. However, time slows down as I see something that I know has changed my life. The cookie slowly begins to fall out of my hands. Thinking back, I believe I was too excited upon having the first bite and my technique of holding the cookie became sloppy. In slow motion I see my half eaten cookie ripped by shear force of gravity plowing into the ground. As what everyone does when they see this, I immediately begin using my physics skills into calculating the rate of decent assuming there is no wind resistance. I am shocked by the conclusion to find that based upon my average rate of reaction speed, I am unable to rescue my cookie of which I held infinite emotional attatchment to. I do not know what hit the ground first, my tears or the cookie, but I do know that the sight of the collision is burned into my mind forever, only to be repeated everytime I close my eyes. Shards of chocolate ricochet off the body on to the carpet, and finally the full mass of the cookie come to a halt on the tainted rug that covers the floor of my abode. I immedately fall to my knees in the best immitation I can do of a Gary Oldman death scene. My world: Shattered, incomplete. I immediatly question suicide and decide that my cookie would have wanted me to go on and keep living. I tell the cookie in my mind that he is a lying whore and needs to shut up, but then I realize what the cookie(that now haunts my dreams) meant. He knew that there would be more experiences in eating Geneva cookies and that I would soon get over the emotional difficulties that I am forced to suffer through immediately. I know I must go through a greiving period and I immediatly set my wardrobe for black in the coming days. In my dreams I see can only see the violence that occured to my cookies and contemplate starting up an organization that would abolish all floors. But then common sense occurs to me, how would I go to get my Geneva cookies If there were no floors, clearly my Geneva cookies need some sort of hovering device so that they can find their home which is my stomach and eventually the toilet bowl that I use to celebrate that time of the day.
As you can now see, i am less of a man, woman, computer, everything. If I can go back in time I know I would have not acted so foolishly but I can only mourn for so long, and clearly that length is aproximatly 10-12 years.
So there you have it, the worst experience of my life. I have told you all I know, and I can only give so many specifics until the feds realize it Is I who have been eating babies and killing innocent children who steal my precious Genevas.