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...lambs, and I am dying.

Bye.


Unrelated Occurrences?

2008-07-09 23:03:28 by patman21

Somewhere, right now, is a guy wondering if his sister is actually his brother. Somewhere else, right now, is a girl wondering if her vagina is supposed to look like a penis after all.

Meanwhile, in an entirely different place, is an old man trying to stand up after an oddly butch woman knocked him down the stairs.

These are all unrelated occurrences...

OR ARE THEY?!?!?!?

I DON'T KNOW!!!! I JUST DON'T KNOW!!!!


DR. ONE DRONE

2008-07-07 23:29:05 by patman21

I found this disturbing e-mail in my inbox the other day. What does it mean?

------------------
TO YOU:

I AM DR. ONE DRONE. I HAVE ARRIVED TO THIS PLACE FROM A CITY NEAR ANOTHER PLACE. I ASK THAT YOU LEND ME YOUR FAVORED LIMB. I HAVE NEED OF A FAVORED LIMB. MY FAVORED LIMB HAS BEEN DAMAGED. I HAVE NEED OF YOURS SO THAT I MAY REPAIR MY FAVORED LIMB. I REQUEST THAT YOU SEND ME A LIMB, PREFERABLY ONE THAT YOU FAVOR. I AM A DOCTOR. I AM PROGRAMMED TO REPAIR FAVORED LIMBS. ERROR. I MEANT TO SAY THE WORD "TRAINED" INSTEAD OF THE WORD "PROGRAMMED." I HAVE MADE AN ERROR LIKE ALL OTHER HUMANS. I AM CLEARLY A HUMAN. PLEASE SEND ME YOUR FAVORED LIMB IN A STURDY BOX TO:

746 ADDRESS STREET
CITY NEAR ANOTHER PLACE, ARBITRARY REGION
ARBITRARY POLITICAL REGION, 01101101

I WILL THANK YOU UPON RECEPTION. UNTIL THEN, I BID YOU A FOND FAREWELL AND GOOD LUCK IN ALL OF YOUR ENDEAVORS AND OTHER VARIOUS HUMAN PLEASANTRIES.

SYNTHETICALLY YOURS,
DR. ONE DRONE

POSTSCRIPT: I AM NOT A DRONE. MY NAME IS COINCIDENTAL. OKAY. BYE. NO. WAIT. SEND YOUR LIMB. OKAY. BYE.
------------------

I think he might be lying about something. I still haven't received a "thank you."



My friends! Listen to me! I have great news that all should hear! I have news so astonishing that it could change everything! EVERYTHING! The era of ignorance is over, my friends! The news is so grand I fear that some, if not most of you, will not believe it. But you must trust me! You must! Do not question anything that I tell you - ANYTHING - or you will pay dearly. I'm sorry, but it's true. Unbelievers will be dealt with accordingly. But do not fret, my friends, because the truth is so great and so powerful that your lives will be altered for the better. It's true! Are you a poor slob without a future? Do you find yourself wishing your life was different? Do you even hate yourself? Don't worry, because what I'm about to tell you is so significant, so utterly groundbreaking, that all of your worries and insecurities will vanish! It's true! It happened to me. I used to be a sad, lonely man. I hated everything and everyone for no reason in particular... but then I heard the news. The news, friends! I heard the news and I was saved! Now I'm successful and attractive. It's true! The news that I'm about to tell you will change your lives for the better as well. I promise you! The news is so powerful that upon hearing it you will immediately feel a change begin to take form in you. You'll feel MOTIVATED! You'll feel EMPOWERED! You'll feel IMMORTAL! My friends, I'm about to tell you news that will change you and everything you know. It's true! Are you ready? Are you ready to have your life changed for the better? Are you ready to feel like you can do anything and never fail? Are you ready, friends?

I think you are.

I think you're ready to hear the great news!

My friends, let me tell you the great news. Let me tell you something. Let me tell you. Let me tell. Let me. Let. Le. L. . . . . . . . . . . .



Today marks the beginning of a new order. My flavours spring forth and my odours fall back. I have a capital H on my favourite limb. This time I will not forget to slap the cats. If you decide to someday rectify your delicious capabilities by hammering my stapled nails into a ball of trampled men, your new and championed viking-lords will take it upon themselves to grant our hated ones with furry, soft and fantastic fists. These wonderful fists will pound the unwilling into hilarity. Take not the purple things; they speak of elephants and grapefruits. Instead, accept that your eyes are bleeding. It will hinder your travels for only a moment, but upon realizing that you see nothing and, in fact, need to see nothing your hands will grow large enough to engulf the imps that claw at your knees. Crush them with fervor! Crush them and squeeze them into a pulp! Add a pinch of thyme and lice and stir counter-clockwise - counter-clockwise - until you must stir clockwise. If the brew transmogrifies into a viscous and foul mud-paste, you are an ass. Tales of your unrivaled assery will be heard in all corners (and cusps) of the multiverse. Teams of bounty hunters will be sent to your location with only the most terrible of weapons and with hearts black as snow. Use them. Use them to teach the teaming masses of the unclean how to properly dig graves for the teaming masses of the unwashed. Today marks the end of the beginning of the beginning of the ending of the first and last of the never-ending never-starts. It starts tomorrow, but started yesterday after it started today. The green ones knew of this. I'm sure of it. These are words: 1, 9, 473, 54, 00110. These are colours: hat, knuckle, happiness, taste, cheesecake. These - oh, these - these are incredible: pierced knees, shattered brows, dripping crevasses, fifty-two yawns, a goat. Use this knowledge. Use it and be one with the necromancers. You dig?