Moving On - Children of the Children of God

We barf because we overdid it and intend to continue overdoing it well into tomorrow. We are the new Romans. It goes like this: If you start drinking at three o'clock, you're going to be pretty out there by midnight. Throw in some painkillers, coke, and pot and you're basically a giant red baby who can't speak Russian. Then a friend will bring 'round another tray of Alabama Slammers. What are you going to do, say no? No. What you're going to do is accept everyone's offers, buy your round back, and then go to the bathroom to let it all out. It's called purging and it's nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, it's a clear sign that we have reached a level of affluence not seen since Caesar. Do you think those towel heads in Iraq get to eat and drink so much they need to puke out the extra bits? They don't even have the resources to whack off. This is our time, people, so don't stop livin' in the red. Don't refuse anything you're fed. Just take it all in. Return the favor and then let it all out. Lemme hear you say "rooooohaaaaaahhwaaarcchh!"

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from banal_commentator
Tuesday, August 24, 2004 - 09:05
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....An anorexic's heart cry
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From Vicky
Tuesday, August 24, 2004, 09:08
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Actually that would be bulimia...(reply to this comment)

From banal_commentator
Tuesday, August 24, 2004, 16:10
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You're right Vicks; how silly of me.(reply to this comment)
from moon beam
Monday, August 23, 2004 - 07:15
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Brenda O'Malley is home making dinner, as usual, when Tim Finnegan arrives at her door. "Brenda, may I come in?" he asks. "I've somethin' to tell ya."

"Of course you can come in, you're always welcome, Tim. But where's my husband?"

"That's what I'm here to be tellin' ya, Brenda. There was an accident down at the Guinness brewery..."

"Oh, God no!" cries Brenda. "Please don't tell me...."

"I must, Brenda. Your husband Shamus is dead and gone. I'm sorry." Finally, she looked up at Tim.

"How did it happen, Tim?"

"It was terrible, Brenda. He fell into a vat of Guinness Stout and drowned."

"Oh my dear Jesus! But you must tell me true, Tim. Did he at least go quickly?"

"Well, no Brenda... no. Fact is, he got out three times to pee."

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from mike hunt
Saturday, August 21, 2004 - 08:45
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ohh my head
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from frmrjoyish
Thursday, August 19, 2004 - 11:52
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Excuse me but I missed the whole point of this article? Did you even have a point? Please find something better do than filling up cyberspace with this asinine crap!
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From mike hunt
Tuesday, August 24, 2004, 10:53
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Dear frmrjoyish

Thats what cyberspace was designed for. It gives everyone who uses it a voice, and the option for the viewing of unlimited pornography. Its like a huge empty void where one may scream inane babble at the top of their lungs. If you dont agree with my declaration of enebriation thats youre right, but dont attack my right of free speech. Its uh,how do you say......un patriotic. biotch (reply to this comment)

From mike litorus
Tuesday, August 24, 2004, 11:00
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She's not attacking your right of free speech. By all means, babble away. Just try to babble something at least remotely related to this Website. I can send you a list of other internet sites who would think the gibberish you wrote up there is a godsend.(reply to this comment)

From exister
Thursday, August 19, 2004, 13:40
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The poor slob is trying to rationalize the horrid night he had. I have to agree that his internal dialogue is probably best kept to himself. Reactionary xenophobia probably doesn't help much either.(reply to this comment)