I am goat
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Bill Drayton Jr.
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I am goat
I am goat
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spidermonkey
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Bill Drayton Jr.
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Ah, you know what, you're right. Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 5th should never be confused with Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd who is the slobbering mongoloid. Once, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd was in public, just after he had matured physically. He was a strapping young thickneck with bulging, sinnuous muscles teeming just below the layer of baby fat he had been padded with liberally since he was born. On this day, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd ventured into the marketplace alone after escaping from his restraints. His father, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 2nd, prick that he was, kept Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd locked up night and day in a closet under the stairs like he was making a real life Harry Potter/Life Goes On mashup.
On the day of our tale, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd snapped the shackles that had bound him to the dank, feces smeared floor for so long. At first, he had trouble on his feet, having had his legs hobbled with a slat of wood for nearly 3 months. After a few moments rummaging through a soiled diaper looking for his My Little Pony, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd kicked the door down and marched out of the house. Luckily for him, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 2nd and Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 4th and Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 5th were all already at the marketplace, where they would meet very shortly. After climbing out of the vent in the dark damp bathroom just outside the main house that he then hid in for three hours, which was really more like a hole in the ceiling above a pot (like the kind you'd cook up some macaroni and cheese in--you know the kind I'm talking about, only this is filthy. And I'm not talking filthy like Michael Jackson's codpiece, I'm talking like 4 generations of Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleansos and their assorted wives, concubines, servants, slaves, prostitutes, men clad in leather jumpers with big fat red plasic balls in their mouths crapping on the same pot. Every day man, for real. Did I mention they were somewhat wealthy and lived on a bean farm--that they frequently--read every day, all day, ate from. Picture that.) on the floor, with two big street signs blocking out sort of a wall, he tasted the fresh air of freedom just like he did when he got to go get his new helmet fitted at Dr. Welkington's Autism-schmautism and Rebel Retards House of Orthopedics and Other Specialities for the Spastic. As he made his way out of his family's lengthy drive, the wind blew threw the chunks of vomit in his hair and whistled to him: "Twinkle Twinkle. Twinkle Twinkle. " He encountered a little girl, and tried to show her a booger he had birthed on his way out of the ceiling. She ran from Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd. Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd felt sad in a way that seemed familiar, but that he could not place. He slumped towards the marketplace, the twisted mask the doctors called a face was somewhat pointed forward.
At first, the villagers started running. You, gentle reader, must understand something about Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd. Ugly doesn't come close. Calling Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd ugly is to improve the word to the meaning of drop dead gorgeous in that comparison. First of all, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd smelled like pyronecrobestiality, and his face looked like Peanut Head from the movie Mask, the one with Cher, but as interpreted by a blind thirty three year old ass painting by paint enema. But even that is just not doing this justice.
Back to the fetid scene. The marketplace, 75 degrees in the shade, considerably hotter in the open, dusty center of the pentagonal market. Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd, shirt draped across his sweat drenched, crap thatched chest. Villagers are running in all directions out of the marketplace. You see, the villagers were convinced that Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd was really some sort of creature that would harm them. They ran out of fear. They ran out of ignorance. Several of them soiled themselves.
Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd, chest rattling with phlegm, sputtered "Milk" and then sneezed, spittle spraying out like water does from a Beluga Whale's blowhole. The remaining villagers, including the other Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleansos shuddered with piss shiver like intensity. Slowly, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd reached into his trousers. Just as slowly, he raised his arm high, displaying the Butcher's knife he had been keeping next to his scrotum to keep the intarweb from getting his boys. Anyhoo--there is our scene; huddled natives, sneezing knife wielding crazy faced maniac, and he drops the knife. It ventures about one and three quarters inches into the hot dirt of the village square. It hits no stones. Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd moves his hand again towards his trousers, but this time directs his wicked stubby five tongued serpent towards his backside. After some doing, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd produces a soft dagget that he proceeds to put into his mouth. He savors it, standing immobilized by it's succelence, as the villagers are able to regroup and find the police. He is still savoring his fudge dragon when the three burly constables smashed his face into the hard, hard ground.
You know, I'm just saying it's important not to get the guys mixed up okay, I mean the other one is pretty cool once you get past his dandruff.
On the day of our tale, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd snapped the shackles that had bound him to the dank, feces smeared floor for so long. At first, he had trouble on his feet, having had his legs hobbled with a slat of wood for nearly 3 months. After a few moments rummaging through a soiled diaper looking for his My Little Pony, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd kicked the door down and marched out of the house. Luckily for him, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 2nd and Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 4th and Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 5th were all already at the marketplace, where they would meet very shortly. After climbing out of the vent in the dark damp bathroom just outside the main house that he then hid in for three hours, which was really more like a hole in the ceiling above a pot (like the kind you'd cook up some macaroni and cheese in--you know the kind I'm talking about, only this is filthy. And I'm not talking filthy like Michael Jackson's codpiece, I'm talking like 4 generations of Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleansos and their assorted wives, concubines, servants, slaves, prostitutes, men clad in leather jumpers with big fat red plasic balls in their mouths crapping on the same pot. Every day man, for real. Did I mention they were somewhat wealthy and lived on a bean farm--that they frequently--read every day, all day, ate from. Picture that.) on the floor, with two big street signs blocking out sort of a wall, he tasted the fresh air of freedom just like he did when he got to go get his new helmet fitted at Dr. Welkington's Autism-schmautism and Rebel Retards House of Orthopedics and Other Specialities for the Spastic. As he made his way out of his family's lengthy drive, the wind blew threw the chunks of vomit in his hair and whistled to him: "Twinkle Twinkle. Twinkle Twinkle. " He encountered a little girl, and tried to show her a booger he had birthed on his way out of the ceiling. She ran from Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd. Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd felt sad in a way that seemed familiar, but that he could not place. He slumped towards the marketplace, the twisted mask the doctors called a face was somewhat pointed forward.
At first, the villagers started running. You, gentle reader, must understand something about Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd. Ugly doesn't come close. Calling Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd ugly is to improve the word to the meaning of drop dead gorgeous in that comparison. First of all, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd smelled like pyronecrobestiality, and his face looked like Peanut Head from the movie Mask, the one with Cher, but as interpreted by a blind thirty three year old ass painting by paint enema. But even that is just not doing this justice.
Back to the fetid scene. The marketplace, 75 degrees in the shade, considerably hotter in the open, dusty center of the pentagonal market. Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd, shirt draped across his sweat drenched, crap thatched chest. Villagers are running in all directions out of the marketplace. You see, the villagers were convinced that Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd was really some sort of creature that would harm them. They ran out of fear. They ran out of ignorance. Several of them soiled themselves.
Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd, chest rattling with phlegm, sputtered "Milk" and then sneezed, spittle spraying out like water does from a Beluga Whale's blowhole. The remaining villagers, including the other Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleansos shuddered with piss shiver like intensity. Slowly, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd reached into his trousers. Just as slowly, he raised his arm high, displaying the Butcher's knife he had been keeping next to his scrotum to keep the intarweb from getting his boys. Anyhoo--there is our scene; huddled natives, sneezing knife wielding crazy faced maniac, and he drops the knife. It ventures about one and three quarters inches into the hot dirt of the village square. It hits no stones. Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd moves his hand again towards his trousers, but this time directs his wicked stubby five tongued serpent towards his backside. After some doing, Rodrigo Manuel Juan Pablo Villa Lobos Ignacio Cleanso the 3rd produces a soft dagget that he proceeds to put into his mouth. He savors it, standing immobilized by it's succelence, as the villagers are able to regroup and find the police. He is still savoring his fudge dragon when the three burly constables smashed his face into the hard, hard ground.
You know, I'm just saying it's important not to get the guys mixed up okay, I mean the other one is pretty cool once you get past his dandruff.
Last edited by ed9k on Wed Mar 28, 2007 3:05 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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Bill Drayton Jr.
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spidermonkey
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Bill Drayton Jr.
- Post Apocalyptic
- Posts: 2171
- Joined: Tue Mar 25, 2003 2:48 pm
- Location: teh w00ds
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spidermonkey
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Bill Drayton Jr.
- Post Apocalyptic
- Posts: 2171
- Joined: Tue Mar 25, 2003 2:48 pm
- Location: teh w00ds
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Bill Drayton Jr.
- Post Apocalyptic
- Posts: 2171
- Joined: Tue Mar 25, 2003 2:48 pm
- Location: teh w00ds
