DON'T EVEN FUCKING START WITH US. MARCY IS AN EXTREMELY BEAUTIFUL HALF A PERSON.
SKULLGAME WANNA-BE TRIES TO SHOW BUSH DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIS ASS & A HOLE IN THE GROUND
IN YET ANOTHER FAILURE OF SPECTACULAR PROPORTION, MR. COX FAILS TO WEAR HIS SKULLGAME.COM T-SHIRT. WELL DONE SHAWN. YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.
WASHINGTON (SkullGame) -- An aspiring writer from Arkansas scaled the fence surrounding the White House Sunday while President Bush napped inside and was immediately captured by Secret Service officers whose existence can be neither confirm nor denied by KARL ROVE at this juncture in time. Secret Service spokesman "Jonathan" "Cherry" identified the jumper as Shawn A. Cox. In an odd turn Cherry busted Cox and said he was being charged with unlawful entry and was expected to appear Monday in U.S. District Court.
Cox has previously come to the attention of the Secret Service, Cherry said, but he would not provide details other than to smirkingly add "at least he didn't bring his brother Hugh G. Or his sister Anita."
Cherry said he did not know where Cox was from in Arkansas or why he wanted to get on the White House grounds. He did not have a weapon, Cherry said. Uniformed Secret Service officers stood by with guns drawn while an agent escorted Cox to a guard station.
Cox was wearing a sweatshirt, he was unshaven and his pants were wet and dirty from where he was brought to the ground. He did not answer a journalist's question about why he jumped the fence, except to say, "the fucking Cox always get it in the rear."
USC'S MATT LEINART CRIES LIKE A SAUSAGE SEEKER; TERRELL OWENS NOTIFIED.
LEINART ABOUT TO GO TO THE GAY CARD. AGAIN.
LOS ANGELES (SkullGame) -- USC, a team beset by gayness and rumors of gayness, exploded in a veritable volcano of flaming gayness today when quarterback Matt Leinart -- last year's Heisman winner -- got off to a rocky start. A gay and rocky start. Leinart, who eschewed professional football to return for his senior season, was making his final appearance at the Coliseum, and the weight of the day overtook him and he, apparently just caught The Gay.
"He was a mess, crying before the game," Coach Pete Carroll said, whilst mimicking him with a curtsy and a ballerinaesque sashay about the room. The big ol' giant tears of gayness continued into his first few plays on the field, and Leinart struggled in the first half before settling down to pass for 233 yards and three touchdowns.
"It was very 'emotional'," said a be-fruited Leinart.
When reached for comment NFL Gay Expert TERRELL OWENS said that he was "ON it."
HOW I CRASHED MY FUCKING TRUCK: THE TRUE FUCKING STORY OF HOW I CRASHED MY FUCKING TRUCK BY RAYMOND J. JUSTIN JONES JUNIOR, THE GODDAMNED 3RD
ANOTHER TRAGIC SUICIDE: SHOT TWICE IN THE BACK & STABBED SEVERAL TIMES. WHEN WILL YOUNG PEOPLE SEE THAT SUICIDE IS JUST A PERMANENT SOLUTION TO A TEMPORARY PROBLEM?!?
Here's the deal,
I used to live with this guy named Terrence. Me and him went way back, I met him when I was like 14. He was always a cool dude; always had the best drugs, knew about all the parties, and also knew like every cool kid in town.
He was bi-sexual, but you'd never know it unless you already knew. He was just this cool, older black dude with a fro who liked cool music, and he would fight anyone who disrespected him. He also never tried to fuck me, so me and him became super-tight.
When I was 18, me and my girlfriend at the time moved to Greensboro for a few years, and me and T.
lost contact (my girl fucking detested him!) Eventually we broke up, and I moved back to Morehead
city. I crashed with my folks for awhile until I could get my own apartment. Me and T. started hangin again and he was running a very very large drug business, so we partnered up. He ended up getting busted on his way to TX with some x and shit. Lucky for him they got him on the way there, and not the way back! He wasn't hot in our area yet, he just couldn't make any more runs. So we lost our main source. But then, I found another one, so we picked up again. I needed a roommate, so he moved in. He was previously living with his grandma who was the mayor's sister. That was probably the only reason he never got busted before, as it turned out.
I started to notice a lot of suspicious activities, so I quit slingin all together, and urged him to do
the same. He wouldn't listen. Now that he had his own place, he was getting out of hand. I also began to notice he had a lot of younger clientele, and the relationships were not strictly "business". We had it out a few times, and I tried to kick him out, but there are a lot of laws in NC that protect people who live with you. We got raided one night while I was at a party. They were looking for drugs, instead they found nude pics of little boys in his bedroom. They found my personal weed in my bedroom, so I got charged with misdemeanor possession and paraphernalia. They also confiscated every single video tape and porn mag in the house! I never did get all my shit back, even though I had NOTHING to do with the child porn, and was never charged with anything like that. The SBI ended up going to his computer at work where he was getting the shit, and he ended up with like 90 charges! He got convicted of like 3 or 4 of them. He spent some time in prison, and is now a registered sex
offender living in Fla. I got the possession charge dropped, and this ridiculous charge of "maintaining a dwelling for the use of lsd" since they found an old-ass, bunk 10-strip somewhere, god knows where. All I got convicted of was paraphernalia, which is basically nothing.
There was also this drifter kid who showed up right around the time they got us. T. met him at the bus station where he (T.) worked. He let the kid stay with him, cause he figured he could get some ass, but the dude wouldn't give it up so he kicked him out. The guy got arrested later for fighting a cop, and was abruptly released. He should have just gotten a forehead tattoo that said "Snitch". T. didn't do shit to him, because he was in enough trouble already, but he made it known that he knew
what was up. He also made a few cryptic statements. Someone found the kids body a couple months later in the woods by our apartment. He had been living out there. I guess after he ran across the country to getaway from his incestuous family, and found nothing on the other side but more predators, he felt he had enough, so he took his own life. Needless to say, this created quite an uproar in my neck of the woods. I was called in for questioning for the umpteenth time, and so was everyone else seen at my place in the weeks before the bust.
The real fucked-up thing was; I believe wholeheartedly that the cops knew from day 1 that it
was a suicide, but they figured they could use it to scare people into talking. Leave it to the fucking
pigs to exploit an innocent person's death. Richard's death still haunts me from time to time. I
was a complete dick to him at first, because to me he was just another piece of ass for Terrence hanging around my house. Towards the end I got to know him, and we actually had a lot in common. He wasn't a Faggot, he was just another lost soul with nowhere to go. He even listened to the same black and death metal bands I used to listen to. He gave me some cd's, which I still have somewhere. I think maybe if I knew what was going on in his head, maybe I could've helped in some way. Troubled, disturbed people seem to be drawn to me sometimes. Some of them think I have the answer for some reason. Maybe it's because I'm crazy myself, but for some reason I've sorta learned to deal with it.
I don't know why I ever thought this would be a good piece for SkullGame.
LETTERS FROM LUNATICS
WE DON'T KNOW. SURELY. BUT DON'T LET THAT STOP YOU. WRITE AWAY!!!
you are elite . . you shine like urine
here are some rants i thought youd enjoy reading..... if not delete this now.
Fuck everything. We're all a joke. Even me. I am a dip shit asshole. We are all a joke. Nothing means anything. This world is a joke. We are wheels. We are recycable. Out of all the things that mean nothing I am going to pick the best options and work with them. I will make the meaningless mean something. A positive outlook in a negative world. This will bring true meaning to things like music and my guitar playing. I was suicidaly depressed realizing the world is a vicious psychotic cycle that never ends. A filhy wheel. But now, with words of wisdom from Brent, I realized that you have to make something of life by yourself to make it mean something. Pick out the things you love. Work with them. Abide by your surroundings. Try to cope with the surroundings that make you go crazy. Realize it is all a joke. Realize yourself. Give yourself hope. Be your own religion. Accomplishments are in the mind. Figure out what you love and make something of it. That's all I have to say about that.
"Being alive is a crock of shit."
Suicide is ego. If you can't live and abide by your surroundings and you want to kill youself you are a very egotistical person. We are all the same joke. The same book. The same funny chapter. We are all one.
But if you are gonna kill yourself take the whole world with you. This world would be a much better place alone.
When this generation of filth is dead there will be another generation that will take over. There will be more filth. The wheel will never end. There is no hope for our time or the next. A wheel of hopelessness and filth.
"Reality is what you make it and every person has their own version of it... so why not make it a good one?"
Touching is unnecessary unless you're having sex. Period.
If you're in the back of a car getting a ride home from a good friend and your other good friend is in the front seat and he gets dropped off earlier, there is no reason to get out of the car and get in the front seat. Car seats don't matter. You're already in the car.
As long as my reality is doing fine, why should people care what i do in my free time? Robo makes the brain bleed. I should be dead in 20 years. Don't worry about me 'till then.
If I were to die today it wouldn't effect their life.
You are sadly gay. The glory of my balls will bestow upon your mouth tonight. Poop.Closet.Bag.Hdden. Where is the poo? Where can it be? Poop goes in the butt. Toodle-oo!
