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Quoted By:
>be me
>at libary computer table
>writing dissertation on masturbation in the free world
>become frustrated cuz it reads more like poetry
"slap slap in the mickey dees shitter, rub it good you ain't no quitter"
>trying to write a solemn diatribe on being accosted with sperm on the public transit system
>must have sperged out a grunt
>fat faced libarian waddles over and huddles behind me
>a-hem
>anon we don't do that here
"relatedly anon would sit on the toilet pulling his pecker until forced out of the bathroom by the mother figure"
>bitch won't go away
>a-Hem
>and she leans over my shoulder, liverwurst and despair in my ear
>no porn in the libary
>she looks and sees i am in fact writing a treatise but dooesn't apologize
>just sort of rolls side to side back to her desk
"the vibrations of the bus caused anon to become powerful aroused; going over speed-bumps or pot-holes was often too much, anon wouuld be forced to splooge on himself rather than an unwitting victim; on these occasions he would not flee off the bus but could instead enjoy the exstacy of shame and frustration while spasming on the floor of the big machine"
>decide i've written enough for one day
>think i will give that bitch libarian a piece of my mind on the way out
"beat my meat on the port-o-potty seat, tried to hit the ceiling but came on my feet"
>waiting at the bus stop homeless wretch tried too bum a cigarette
>watched his face do something awful as i told him times were tough and threw down and stomped out my half smoked ciggie
"there are circles influencing this world, circles beyond our grasp or our reason; there are crop-circles; there are circles of men whacking off around campfires and chanting death-hymns into the midnights; circles of fine jewelery and circles of moon and sun"
>at libary computer table
>writing dissertation on masturbation in the free world
>become frustrated cuz it reads more like poetry
"slap slap in the mickey dees shitter, rub it good you ain't no quitter"
>trying to write a solemn diatribe on being accosted with sperm on the public transit system
>must have sperged out a grunt
>fat faced libarian waddles over and huddles behind me
>a-hem
>anon we don't do that here
"relatedly anon would sit on the toilet pulling his pecker until forced out of the bathroom by the mother figure"
>bitch won't go away
>a-Hem
>and she leans over my shoulder, liverwurst and despair in my ear
>no porn in the libary
>she looks and sees i am in fact writing a treatise but dooesn't apologize
>just sort of rolls side to side back to her desk
"the vibrations of the bus caused anon to become powerful aroused; going over speed-bumps or pot-holes was often too much, anon wouuld be forced to splooge on himself rather than an unwitting victim; on these occasions he would not flee off the bus but could instead enjoy the exstacy of shame and frustration while spasming on the floor of the big machine"
>decide i've written enough for one day
>think i will give that bitch libarian a piece of my mind on the way out
"beat my meat on the port-o-potty seat, tried to hit the ceiling but came on my feet"
>waiting at the bus stop homeless wretch tried too bum a cigarette
>watched his face do something awful as i told him times were tough and threw down and stomped out my half smoked ciggie
"there are circles influencing this world, circles beyond our grasp or our reason; there are crop-circles; there are circles of men whacking off around campfires and chanting death-hymns into the midnights; circles of fine jewelery and circles of moon and sun"
