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IN YOUR FACE, RAZOR
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IN YOUR FACE, RAZOR
Had laundry now at 11 but when I come down to the utility room the fucking door is still locked with the previous dude’s tag.
No problem I’ll just wait… 15 fucking minutes pass and I’m just about to stop giving a fuck and kick the door down when I hear someone coming down the stairs.
“I’ll tell this nigga what’s what” I think but then, just as I’m about to tell the nigga what’s what, this cute girl shows up around the corner and I can’t say shit.
*“Shit sorry I overslept!” she disarms me with one fucking sentence. Here I am mentally prepared that some dude bro is going to show up and all I could probably manage to muster after that was some stupid smile like
**“Ehhm uhmm… Aw shit! It’s stuff that happens, no probs! … heh” **
She enters the utility room …
http://i.imgur.com/Lhp2nuF.png?1
I’m unsure if I should wait outside like what’s expected of Swedish men in this day and age (wasting even more of my time time) or if I should follow her inside and, most likely, come of as some perv that’s hoping to get a glimpse of newly washed pantsu.
“Why are you Swedes so shy? Come in already!”
Oh shit she invited me inside, well that solves that problem.
What follows is another 15 minutes of her apologizing for what happened and me being all “No probs, it’s stuff that happens” and some awkward chit chat before she’s finally done.
“Oh and have a happy new year”
“… you too”
A La Petit Christmas
Scene: La Petit Toilette, an upscale dining venue, era 203839 AD
Dramatis personæ:
Maitre’d - Visibly older now, the Maitre’d of the restaurant (and veteran solder of the Garden Wars) is not particularly happy to see the two couples return for a Christmas feast. Still, ever the soldier, he is determined to make it through, all the way to dessert.
Miss Velda Qwdari - Blue-footed War widow and heiress of the McDowell’s Garbage Collection Services fortune. Her foot used to be much more blue than this. A year ago. She also smiled a lot less back then.
John Qwdari,née Billingsly - Now completely penniless after paying multiple fees for violating the Vocalizations Against Women Act - primarily minor offenses, such as asking “how are you today?” or “could you please pass the butter?” - John finds himself one year into a now rocky Uncommon-Law Marriage to Miss Qwdari after overstaying his evening visit with her by 15 seconds.
Abelhardt Cross - The middle-aged playboy who is always cross about something. He’s still mad. What else is new? He’s yet to marry Telhima Softly, although they still date each other. This is because she has been unable to hear each of his 200+ proposals over the sound of the music streaming (As in literally streaming, sometimes visually) from her headphones. This enrages Mr. Cross to no end, making them the perfect happy couple.
Telhima Softly - Cross’ date. The artificially young (although slightly more mature) girl of the ambiguously old-school Techni-crass generation. She still enjoys classical Dare-Trip tunes from one year ago through her headphones, and has also taken a liking to the new fad Cumdrum, a musical genre that is exactly what it sounds like. She still has a slight crush on John, but couldn’t imagine herself with a man that doesn’t appear to old enough to be her Grandfather. Maybe.
Quentin Tarantino (of course) - He has stolen the Climax of the play’s plot. He is to be played by Quentin Taranrino or Samuel L. Jackson.
Hostess A: She is still ever the hostess.
(CURTAIN RISES. Framed inside the tacky entrance of La Petit are MISS VELDA QWDARI and her escort JOHN QWDARI, NÉE BILLINGSLY, her begrudged husband. They stand apart, arms folded, John’s head hanging as if in shame. Velda leans impatienty upon one leg, the other extended as to intentionally reveal the permanant blue stain which it bears from knee to sole. <ENTER, from OFFSTAGE, MAITRE’D> accepting Velda’s coat as he greets them)
Matre’D: Sacré bleu! If it is not my good friends Velma and John who love jello enough to force me to build my muscles carrying it. So good to see you. I hope your night is going magnifique
M.Qwdari: (as nasily as possible) Well, I se you’ve learned some new French .
Matre’D: Ah, no. I never use that phrase.
John B: But you just did.
M.Qwdari: (poking John solidly in the ribs) Jokingly, I’m sure, my dear. But anyhow, (as loudly as possible) today is our anniversay! And we would like our old seat tonight. You know, where we sat on our very first date here one year ago.
Matre’D: Anniversary? well, Sacré bleu! (nervous laughter). Come, come! It is only fitting that I seat you at the same table as that fated… er… blessed day. Ah, this way (leading Velma with an out-stretched hand)
John B: (to himself) Sacré bleu…
<They are led to STAGE RIGHT, where upon LIGHTING UP, we see that seated at the table are none other than ABELHARDT CROSS and TELHIMA SOFTLY, seated eating an excruciatingly loud meal over the latest Li’ Waifu track, Put Our Son Down, Cause I’ma Take Him To The Skrip Club>
A. Cross: (Angrily) Shouldn’t there be a Christmas tree in here? (Then, upon noticing the couple; with wide-eyed disbelief… and more anger) Sacré bleu!
M. Softly: (turning to see, the CUMDRUM gets LOUDER as headphones face the audience) WHAT IS IT?
A. Cross: Why, I don’t believe it! (pointing) it’s them!
M. Softly: (her back towards the Matre’D and company, headphones blaring so loudly that she cannot hear) ABY, WHAT’S THE MATTER? OH, IT’S (a sudden, and rare… silence lulls in the music) YOU (piercing the brief silence)
Matre’D: (To Velda and John) Oh, I forgot! I’m afraid that this table has already been filled.
M. Softly: Nonsense! We have room, don’t we, Aby?
A. Cross: Well… uh… I don’t… I uh… <Put Our Son Down, Cause I’ma Take Him To The Skrip Club begins blaring once again from her headphones>
M.Softly: Yay! You can sit here with us.
M. Qwdari: Oh, but we couldn’t!
M. Softly: But we insist! Don’t we, Aby? We Just got here. Haven’t even got our menus yet.
A. Cross, & Matre’D and John B. (simultaneously): Sacré bleu!
Matre’D: I shall go for the menus, and also a bottle of our finest a’ red wine. On the house for the anniversary couple.
M. Qwdari: Wait! (halting the Matre’D)(to John) Is red going to be… appropriate?
John B: It’s our anniversary… but we’re also finalizing our divorce. (Abelhardt spits his wine out in shock)
M. Softly: OH, HOW WONDERFUL!!
M. Qwdari: Yes, we’ve managed to get both days to line up properly beside Christmas. Why today in the court room we ate that stale piece of left over wedding cake that’s been in the freezer all year and wiped our mouths with the signed divorce papers and then had egg nog!
M. Softly: HOW ROMANTIC! ABY, I WANT A DIVORCE! LET’S GET MARRIED SO WE CAN HAVE CAKE AND COURT ORDERS!
A. Cross: OKAY! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO ASK YOU …
M. Qwdari: (Interrupting) Oh, you poor man. What a commitment I’ve got you into!
A. Cross: (growing quite, understandably this time, angry…) NO I WANT TO…
M. Softly: OH, HE’S JUST GOING TO STAY GRUMPY LIKE ALWAYS. (As Abelhardt is pulling a ring from his chest pocket) LOOK AT HIM HE ALWAYS BRINGS ME RINGS AS IF HE CAN BUY MY LOVE. (to Abelhardt) THIS IS THE FOURTH RING YOU’VE GIVEN ME THIS WEEK.
M. Qwdari: Tsk. tsk. tsk. Men never learn do they, my dear? (to Matre’D) Oh, we’ll just compromise. Bring us your finest blush!
Matre’D: (Nearly fainting, stammering) I shall fetch it… from the back of the cellar… The very back…
(Finally seated, the table continues it’s conversation as <ENTER HOSTESS> Hostess sets menus before them.)
M. Softly: So, tell me what it’s like getting married… and divorced! the day after Christmas!
M. Qwdari: Oh, it’s just like any other day.
A. Cross: One could get engaged… to be married on the day after Christmas too, you know.
M. Softly: SURE, BUT YOU’D HAVE TO HAVE SOMEONE ASK YOU FIRST!
A. Cross: WELL, I…
John B: Oh, marriage ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Ask me (smiling), I’m divorced.
A. Cross: Aren’t they charging you by the word?
John B: The syllable.
M. Qwdari: John and I never needed much conversation. At least at first we didn’t.
M. Softly: Then how did you communicate?
M. Qwdari: The usual… (knowing groans and telling looks pass between the women) And of course, pheromones.
M. Softly: well, I’ve never had a man speak to me in pheromones before.
M. Qwdari: Oh, it’s nice. You know it’s the only way they can communicate with us without being fined, you know. Unless of course, he’s as big and important and well-respected a fellow as your guy.
M. Softly: Ya, Aby’s all right when he want’s to be. And he smells kinda nice, I guess.
A. Cross: Hmmmph… Pheromones. I hope your nose works better than your ears do! <ENTER MATRE’D, carrying wine and glasses, which he sets and pours as the conversation continues> (to John) Now John, you’ll want a woman with a nice nose on for your next divorcing. Not to insult Miss Qwdari’s sense of smell.
M. Qwdari: Oh, no, I smell you fine from over here, darling.
A. Cross: Remind me before you go. I’ll give you the number for my olfactory man. He can save you millions on a divorce by way of proving negligent sense of smell as a cause for the breakdown.
John B: That sounds fine.
Matre’D: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you’ve all had time to smell your menus, but allow me to tell you of tonights specialty. Our chef has prepared a wonderful appetizer of tyre fragments for you to chew on. that is tyre with a “y” for they are authentic British racing tyres salvaged from a scrap yard in Canada and imported through the checkpoints into the states. For our main course, we have Delivered Onion, served with a glaze and a side of honeyed tadpole harvested this morning from the pothole in the East parking lot. And finally our dessert, sugared plums in vanilla ice cream served upon ginger crumb cake. It is… an acquired taste, but I assure you it is quite enjoyable. But feel free to order as you like from our menu.
A. Cross: Well, I’m definitely down for The Livered Onion. Sounds delicious.
M. Softly: Sounds yummy, The Livered Onion. I’ll have that too
M. Qwdari: (closing her menu boisterously) The livered Onion here as well.
Matre’D: And you sir?
John B: The Livered Onion sounds delicious.
Matre’D: Well then, Delivered Onion all the way a’round. Would you like that de-livered immediately, then?
A. Cross: (Annoyoyed) Yes, served. Of course.
Matre’D: And… de-livered, yes?
A. Cross: YES, I WANT IT DELIVERED! SERVED, WHATEVER. NOW JUST BRING IT!
Matre’D: Does that go for all of you as well?
ALL: (nodding) Mmm hmm (and immediately they go back to talking among themselves as <EXIT MATRE’D>) A. Cross: CHRIST, YES!
M. Softly: So, tell me. Do you have any children? (excitedly)
M. Qwdari: Oh yes. 2.7 million of them.
John B: WEll, to be honest, I really don’t think…
M. Qwdari: What do you mean, you don’t think?
John B: It’s just that part of the divorce states…
M. Qwdari: (Interrupting) What does it state, John?
John B: It states that all those children belong to me and that I’ll be damned if a solitary one of them finds it way to one of your rotten, half-cracked eggs, that’s what.
M. Qwdari: (gasping in disbelief as she frantically fishes an electronic calculator from her purse)
A. Cross: THAT didn’t smell so good, now! (laughing)
M. Softly: Oh my, a sperm and egg dispute! Aby, I WANT A SPERM AND EGG DISPUTE! <ENTER MATRE’D, with food on tray>
A. Cross: I’d love to…
M. Softly: I WANT TO KEEP YOUR SPERM, ABY!
Matre’D: Ahem… (Placing food before them, all both look about themselves with embarrassment) Your dinner is served. (setting down a plate before Ablehardt) De-livered Onion.
A. Cross: Hey! Where’s the liver? This is just an onion and a bunch of tadpoles! (probing with a fork)
Matre’d: Oh, sir, I was under the impression that you all wished to have yours de-livered.
A.Cross: WELL OF COURSE WE WANTED IT DELIVERED! WHAT WERE WE SUPPOSED TO DO, GO SERVE OURSELVES?
Matre’D: sir, I do believe there’s been a misunderstanding. THE… Livered… Onion… which is our special for the night. But considering the source… many wish to have theirs… de-livered.
A. Cross: So you’re telling me that everyone else has to get up and go get…
John B: No, Ablehardt, I think I get what he’s trying to say.
M. Qwdari: Oh, tell us, genius.
John B: They’ve removed the liver from ours. It’s only onion.
A. Cross: What? well, take it back to the kitchen and add it again! I’ma meat-eater, damn it!
Matre’D: Sir, I’m afraid we’ve run out. Sorry to say, supplies were low, you see, and that’s why we asked in the first place.
A. Cross: WELL WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU TELL US THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE?
Matre’D: Well, considering the source…
A. Cross: (slamming table) OH, HELL
M. Softly: (consolingly) Aby, it’s okay… You love onions.
A. Cross: Not nearly as I DISLIKE being tricked.
M. Softly: Then you should be happy then!
A. Cross: I AM, but You know that I can’t SHOW IT!
M. Softly: It’s okay, Aby, I can smell it on ya. (winking)
A. Cross: Oh, stop that. (throwing the plate back at the Matre’D) Matre’D I’m too angry to even eat! Ill have my dessert, immediately!
M. Qwdari: I believe that goes for all of us. Uh… considering the source (a symathetic nod from the Matre’D).
Matre’D: Ooooh… I’m afraid I must disappoint you yet again. You see, we’re all out of the dessert as well.
A. Cross: WHAT? I can almost understand running out of delicious, ambiguously-sourced livers, but not some bang-up novelty treat. Probably comes out of a can. Ugh… this place, this is the only reason I come here.
Matre’D: However we do have our delicious gelatin. MMmmm… (rubbing his belly)
A. Cross: Fine, fine, bring that, then.
Matre’D: Wonderful, sir. And is it okay if it’s reddy?
A. Cross: READY? What do you mean do I care? OF COURSE I WANT IT READY. NOW JUST GET IT ON THE TABLE!
Matre’D: Immediately, sir <EXIT MATRE’D>
A. Cross: Wow what horrid service. This place really keeps the ole’ blood pressure up. (laughing, grimacing)
M. Softly: I do love jello! And I know you do too, Velda. Why, your entire left calf is BLUE!
M. Qwdari: It’s true (placing her leg upon the table for display). It’s blue (smiling back at John)
John B: (Dreamily) It… is a lovely color of blue, isn’t it? (recomposing himself) But, I’ve grown tired of it! No, I shan’t be having any tonight.
M. Qwdari: Suit yourself, then. More for us. <ENTER MATRE’D, carrying the gigantic heap of RED gelatin!>
A. Cross: Oh great, it’s here. (Turning to see the dessert) NOW WHAT IS THIS? RED?
MATRE’D: Sir, I specifically asked you if reddiness was okay.
A. Cross: Yes, READY R.E.A.D.Y. I want all of my food READY and with EVERYTHING on it. Not de-livered or de-anything else. What is it wiht you and these mix ups?
<ENTER QUENTIN TARANTINO, from off STAGE RIGHT, creeping slowly up upon the table where no one can see>
Matre’D: Forgive me sir, it is a complete oversight on my part, as we are all out of our standard blue gelatin and have replaced it tonight with red gelatin. I do hope you’ll forgive me.
A. Cross: Forgive? We’ll se about that, now won’t we? I want to speak to the chef! I want to speak to your manager! (to the audience) I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE HOSTESS WHO SEATED US SO IT WON’T BE AWKWARD WHEN SHE APPEARS AT CURTAIN CALL!!
Matre’D: Yes, sir. Right away, sir. <EXIT MATRE’D, noting Quentin sneaking up and warily bypassing him)
A. Cross: AND LEAVE THAT! (MATRE’D, almost dropping the gelatin as he once more bypasses Quentin, leaves the dessert quivering on the table) The nerve of that man. (to Quentin) Ah, you must be the manager. What sort of place do you run here?
QT: Oh, I’m not the manager and I don’t run anything. I’m just written into the script.
A. Cross: What?
M’s. Softly and Qwdari: QUENTIN TARANTINO!
M. Softly: (whispering loudly, to Velma) Hide your leg…
A. Cross: (taking a closer look) Oh, so it is that Tarantino fellow. What brings you so late into the script?
QT: Failed contract negotiations, mostly. But also because I’m only here to steal the climax.
All: (the women with flustered surprise) What?
QT: The climax (Grinning). Of the plot. <ALL take a sigh of relief> Stolen Climax. That’s the title of my next film. In fact, Im researching it now by stealing the climax of this play.
John B: Wait, I don’t get it. What do you need the climax to this plot for? Why can’t you just go steal the climax of some movie or something
QT: Now how am I going to get written into a movie?
A. Cross: (Annoyed) Usually, you just write yourself into them.
QT: “I can’t do that. They won’t let me say ‘nigger’ anymore.”
John B: "Welp, you’ve just said it here, which is almost as cool as saying it on film.
QT: Well, hey! You know what? It is! Nigger Nigger Nigger Nigger! There! I managed to accomplish that and steal the climax all the same. (Excitedly) Whatda’ya know? Another successful production! (Extending his arms out magnificently, forgetting that the gelatin is right beside him and knocking it over.)
(just as the gelatin hits the floor, Velda, of course, shifts her right foot, plopping it square into the gelatin.)
John B: Oh, my. (As all exchange nervous glances <ENTER MATRE’D, ENTER HOSTESS>
M. Qwdari: Oh, my…
John B: wel, it seems we’ve a little problem here.
M. Qwdari: Yes, there’s far too much gelatin here… just as I predicted.
John B: (Endearingly) Just as… you predicted.
M. Softly: OH, ABY! MY HEADPHONES! (taking off and cleaning the red goop from her headset,)
A. Cross: I always thought those were permanently attached!
M. Softly: Emergency detach…
A. Cross: All this time… (realization coming over his face) Telema! Darling, there’s something I want to say to you. Something that’s been bothering me for a long, long time. Making me so very angry I just can’t take it anymore and I absolutely INSIST that you listen to me now!
M. Softly: Sure, Aby, I always listen to you.
A. Cross: (pulling the ring once more from his pocket). Telima, will you make me the angriest man in the entire world and marry me?
M. Softly: (Crying) And then divorce you?
A. Cross: Yes, of course. We’ll want a divorce. (almost making a song of the rhyme)
Matre’D and John B: Please, NO singing!
M. Softly: And and a sperm and egg dispute to follow?
A. Cross: (nodding, and growing in anger) Yes.
M. Softly: And stale cake and legal documents and… egg nog?
A. Cross: Yes, yes, YES! Just ANSWER already! Will ya or won’tcha?
M. Softly: (hesitating) YES! YES I’LL MARRY YOU, ABLEHARD CROSS! And then divorce you, claim your sperm in court and then celebrate with year old cake. I LOVE YOU!! (the two embrace, Ablehard making his angriest faces ever)
M. Qwdari: Oh, look at them.
John B: He’s so angry!
Matre’D: And she can hear him!
M. Qwdari: And I’m sure she can smell him, too.
QT: (Interrupting) This is a lovely scene and all, but I really need to get paid and exit before I start billing off-contract. In fact, that’s twice I’ve claimed the climax, but that one’s a freebie. An early wedding present for the happy couple. Congratulations. <EXIT QUENTIN, via falling off the stage>
M. Qwdari: (to John) Well, this has really been a turn of events, hasn’t it?
John B: Yes it has. And you wanna know another turn of events?
M. Qwdari: What’s that? You’re pregnant?
John B: Oh God no! (smiling) You can have my semen. All two-million-six-hundred-thousand-and-thirteen of them.
M. Qwdari: Ah, John do you mean it? (sniffing the air around John) You do! You DO mean it John, I can smell it! (she embraces John) Now I can finally be happily divorced with all of your belongings, leaving you penniless, destitute and miserable.
John B: Oh, but I’m not miserable. (pointing to Ablehardt) He is!
ALL: (laughter)
<All characters CLOSE in together in a group, still laughing, Ablehardt and Telima still embracing, kissing and celebrating>
John B: (to Velma) We do have one more matter to tend to though.
M. Qwdari: We do, don’t we? (pulling her foot out of the red gelatin as John stoops down to assist her in cleaning it)
<CURTAIN FALL, SLOWLY>
Happy Holidays, Lounge. :tup:
You should have told her that in order to forgive her you require one pair of her panties. When she gives the ones she just washed, pocket them and tell her you want the other pair. And whats in em, too.
That’s how a real man does laundry*.
*(for the entire cell block).
:tup:
For fucks sake the last two pages are why I miss wtf tags, people got pretty good at spoiler tagging semi-pornographic gifs when they could get buried.
Stay safe and turn images off anyone browsing the lounge at work.
Wow that last page…ya niggas are bold. Just postin hentai gifs with reckless abandon. Just no fear of any consequences at all. Speaking of not fearing concequences. In regards to the Food Theif story I told ya earlier. The 2nd incident in particular. I wish I could be Alpha like that. I mean I’m no push over. if push come to shove I’m ready to throw down with my aggressor. But to have the confidence and will to just confront and check people like that when they do shit they got no business doing. And be willing to go as far as they’re willing to go… Like me unless the shit is that serious or a situation is unavoidable because my aggressor is unreasonable. I’d let it go and move on. And sometimes it pisses me off to have to be the “bigger man”. Even though I was in the right.
Also all rise for the Sunday Bunday Anthem
Interesting… I’m certainly jealous he already has a paid-off house that costs that much… (*well this depends on the area, of course. I’m sure there are some retarded places where a 425k house is “shitty”…which is why anyone with common sense should avoid said areas…that’s a rant for another day) Here, a house that’s worth that much would most likely be something amazing.
The funny thing to me is how he now wants to apparently ruin the results of all his hard work and saving by bringing someone with “wife potential” into the picture. He’s more than likely a classic, unfortunate old-fashioned hopeless romantic, and will probably end up marrying the first one he interacts with that is decently attractive. (*since they all want him now that he’s advertised this situation…not that I really fault them for that; it makes sense.) Things will go straight downhill for him from the moment a wife enters this picture. I just hope the media shows us the results when that “special person” shows up to inevitably ruin everything in his life…then we can all have a good laugh.
Want me to come steal your food so you can get some practice in?
(I honestly just want to delete like a straight-up half of the last two pages. It’s really tempting.)
I won’t though, at least for now. I might if it were actually weekday and there was a chance of all someone seeing all this apparently actual hentai stuff at work, but between Not-Good-As-Halloween occurring just two days ago and relatively few people tending to work on Sunday anyway, thankfully that’s not the case.
In a completely unrelated note, I can’t sleep again. I ended up making brownies while watching the end of It’s Alive!. Weird movie there…
Touch La Petite and see if your character ever gets healed. “Oops! Did I channel inflict wounds on accident… ?”
Some people just don’t have anything to lose… It’s one thing to stand your ground, but there are times where it simply isn’t worth the cost. Reminds me of that video where the guy was like “You ready to die for that pussy?! I am!”
Women are not by default destroyers of men’s lives, Million. Sure a lot of them suck, but like with anything in life, you just have to be smart by using your brain properly combined with following your intuition or the silent voice in your heart to find the perfect woman. There are billions of women out there therefore, by pure chance, you will be bound to find a good one if you are not stupid. What you need to realize about how humanity is portrayed in the media is that it is highly inaccurate/distorted. It focuses too much on the negative parts and not enough on the positive parts.
As for me, I view the media as pure entertainment, shit, I view everything as entertainment, therefore I take nothing seriously.
Yes it is. Your spoilers were the gateway drug.
Call me when RockB ends up back behind bars for this and there’s a new lounge.
Even when the lounge disappears into oblivion and never comes back, I will not mind. I will simply move on to something else to entertain myself.
That booty4us video
1 chun-li
0 chun-li spinning bird
0 chun-li pressing start
0 chun-li new up kick [just saw in that desk new combo video, GBA SF2]
0 DAMND laughing
0 Booty Bump Sakazaki Yuri
I am now disappointed I even watched it. Skipped it the first half dozen times in here.
0 Ruby Heart boustier [sic] is like Vergara said: "MORE BOOBIER"
0 Player 2 Side KOF:Max Impact Mai Shiranui
0 Manx telling them Jesus Wenches, TREAT ME LIKE A PIRATE AND GIMME DAT BOOTY
Player 1 side
BSDM customs
Reservoir Dogs is butt bad
$5 blu[e] Ray doo doo movie
Wrap the cord around the whole controller over the top and make it unraveled Christmas Tree lights fucked up forever, sideways is lifehacker, no Akumahacker bigger loops
Also known as Freeway, in your face Freeway whoever that was
Rick Ross?!