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Obtuse STUFF.

Started by Canted_Angle, August 16, 2007, 12:30:20 AM

Previous topic - Next topic

Canted_Angle

I have been posting stuff which I excrete at work when I'm bored inside the 'true facts which are lies' forum (or something along those lines, but I feel like I'm not really shitting true facts which are lies, so i decided to create a new thread for people to post anything a little bit obtuse that they feel like sharing for any reason or another even if its just for the extremly skinny reason that 'at least you haven't lost it all, if your PC blows up'....share even if its shit.

(mods feel free to delete this thread if its been made already or you just don't like it)

anyway here's something i done whilst starring at a picture, frame.

The new dejatsu humus is pushing boundaries your puny small mind never knew existed, but I did.
So buy it and you can try to be cool like me.

But why else should you cut away your contact with your cold hard trouser bulging paper money (besides the fact its all rather vulgar nowadays)?

Because-

You don't only receive the car but the air within, which is specially conditioned to smell like a freshly washed puppy.*2

And

Single handedly the four fork diamantic suspension cushions hug the road like a rape victim reunited with his mother (touching but scared to get to attached). Never letting you loose a precious ounce of momentum, never letting the struggle between you and the savage ever unforgiving road become anything more than a flippant passing after thought of nothingness.
Unless you flick the (patent pending) 'red switch', which usually allows the driver to control the direction in which the car goes. (sometimes it just makes you excrete vomit through your peni or womb hole) *1
Yes that's right you gorgeous cunt, you have the power to directly operate something you purchase, left or right, surd ways or murd ways,  the choice is in your ugly fat hands!

However if you choose (or it chooses) to set the car into 'bone-munch-much' mode it will immediately seek to 'fuck-up' anything within its proximity, that it can...like a bully in the school playground who's just had too much Vodka and red bull, it'll go 'smash! Smash! Smash!, brum! Brum! Brum!'...until there's nothing left but a mangled up heap of bone, shredded skin, piss and mushy muscle parts, sic yeah? - yeah.

So

Pedestrians watch out! When this hydro electric quad disc behemoth  is in the fear perpetuating 'stalk mode' not even a drug bod in the wallowing self analytical deepness of a barbiturates binge solo orgy will jump out of his fucked skin until the front grill metal kiss's his rib part and his body goes all, scew wiff (like an Ethiopian S) - its well wickool

.

Although the A to B thingy is 100% enviromMENTAL(sic!)y humpey and complies with even the most stringent  tree-wanker guidelines. Those of you who are old and paper thin skinned, who's only solid visual sound memory radio wave of a truly great world that you remember from your youth (which in truth is 90% made up dreamery) and is only actually visible (but you can't see it) on a Sunday afternoon in the form of 'the antiques road show', will be dead soon so don't bother buying anything, and try not to breathe.

But

For those of you who are just straight cunt's and think it makes you a better person to be latching onto the past and therefore associating other peoples perception of yourself an attached connotation to an object, smell, sound or feeling which you will never really understand or care to because it has simply 'done its job' for the idiots who lap it up like. Well like the dregs of society that they are.
The absolutely great people at Dejatsu have installed a device in the boot which takes up 97% of the 'actual' space, which consists of a big pot which pointlessly burns petrol*3, and a mechanical monkey which repeatedly bangs the pot when the car is turned on, so you can get that old 'let's burn the world to fuel my shitty second hand memories feeling'.

So go out buy and buy
but don't buy this
and don't look at me
actually fuck off.

Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

*1 Purchase the mega extra's pack to enable speed, self, temperature, mood and ripeness control.
*2 also available in 'new born baby' and 'virgin vagina'.
*3 diesel is available at a 400% price increase.







   

Blue Jam

[banned troll] is away.

samadriel


THE TIRESOMENESS!  YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

Neville Chamberlain

What the blazes is this fellow going on about?!?

Jemble Fred

Blue Jam Wins Post Of The Month! 

Shit, supposed to be a tag. I hate overt back-slapping, me.

Santa's Boyfriend

I think this is a Dekionplexis lookalike competition.

No need to be harsh on the young dude, one quick look at the Fantastic Headlines or Untrue Facts threads shows how many people still have a weakness for sub-TDT guff.

I still can't get the phrase "Mariella Frondrup's fropped its jop" out of my head from a headline-making 'battle' (because that's what it was) in a swimming pool in Avignon ten years ago (FUCK), drunk out of our tiny minds on endless stubby beers and love for gap-toothed French lovelies.

Once we'd exhausted the formula 'incongruous public figure performs incongruous action in incongruous location' and our efforts started to become ungrammatical and nonsensical (another I won't forget: "Field of sausage dogs works in trainer factory") we'd stumbled onto what would later fuel my initial love for Blue Jam, i.e. the obtuse STUFF and unknowingly, with 'Mariella Frondrup's fropped its jop', we became Lennon In His Own Write, only thirty years after it happened.

In summary, Ichi The Killer.

N.B. Canted_Angle, that style of writing is not likely to be welcomed on a Morris forum which has had hundreds of people writing impenetrable, obtuse self-indulgence. That said, ignore the opinion of everybody on this site (except me, now, as you're reading this) and continue to enjoy yourself in the privacy of your own office/bedroom/toilet/public.

Neville Chamberlain

Quote from: The Boston Crab on August 16, 2007, 09:28:04 AM
No need to be harsh on the young dude, one quick look at the Fantastic Headlines or Untrue Facts threads shows how many people still have a weakness for sub-TDT guff.

Quite right. I know I've practically got away with murder on the UNTRUE FACTS thread.

Actually Nev, some of yours really made me hoot! u pwnd dat thred nev ftw

Canted_Angle

I see I am but a 20 year old whipper snapper, I have much to learn in the realms of comedy, apologies for my feeble semi first attempt.

Huzzie

We've all done it mate, most much worse than you.

Pseudopath

Why haven't the band Zero 7 actually released anything in 2007? They've missed an obvious marketing opportunity if you ask me.

Just as the makers of the most popular spy franchise this side of The Bourne Identity have totally messed up by not having a Bond vs. Bond ultimate battle this year. Imagine two Bonds, one 49% evil, one 51% evil battling it out to bone the most deceptive Eastern European babes, deliver the wisest of cracks to elicit the most withering of villainish glares and drift off on a lilo in the most dusky of sunsets. It would've been brilliant. Let's hope the Earth hasn't been destroyed by 3007. I for one can hardly wait.

Canted_Angle

A piece of shit rip off of the opening jam/blue jam monologue's. About Big Brother.

All lined up - fat carrot fairy whores
Waiting to be picked to fill the gullet of the little big boss, oooh
Oh, are you with them?
I am
*smiles*
Daisy children game interlacing all the way to your sore throat, makes it worse
Ugly shit rose
Placed upon the death making bombers lips
As she Squawk's nursery songs, with skinny lungs
Fisher price Jesus paradise, bang bang
Whilst you've paid to be bound, to starrrz
You're wanking with no hands, striped men smile, flash flash
Oooh, lets see what's on the rags tomorrow
Flashed fleshy meat tunnel, lala la, brick face smiles, teeth teeth
Delicate franchise wraps lips so needy, around man bossom
Craving shaved labia, with cuts, naughty naughty, tut tut
You wrest sullen glum, oozing finality
Moon beamed baby boomer

Ha

Slapped rapist
Dungaree boy high above you in the shiny nest
Spitting tummy sewage in your mouth, glug glug
Mmmm
mummy


Pseudopath

Quote from: Canted_Angle on August 18, 2007, 01:40:30 PM
All lined up - fat carrot fairy whores
Waiting to be picked to fill the gullet of the little big boss, oooh
Oh, are you with them?
I am
*smiles*
Daisy children game interlacing all the way to your sore throat, makes it worse
Ugly shit rose
Placed upon the death making bombers lips
As she Squawk's nursery songs, with skinny lungs
Fisher price Jesus paradise, bang bang
Whilst you've paid to be bound, to starrrz
You're wanking with no hands, striped men smile, flash flash
Oooh, lets see what's on the rags tomorrow
Flashed fleshy meat tunnel, lala la, brick face smiles, teeth teeth
Delicate franchise wraps lips so needy, around man bossom
Craving shaved labia, with cuts, naughty naughty, tut tut
You wrest sullen glum, oozing finality
Moon beamed baby boomer

Ha

Slapped rapist
Dungaree boy high above you in the shiny nest
Spitting tummy sewage in your mouth, glug glug
Mmmm
mummy

Then welcome...oo vudge welcome...in Blue Jam?

Notlob

This stuff reminds me of the nonsense you get at the beginning of spam e-mails to do with stocks. "indeterminable happy clowns held her in my nostrils fixated by the unending light of the full moon means that he was built for doodling careening the things with lovely muchness. MAKE MONEY! BUY K-TAC stocks for IMPA prices!"

...Or am I the only one that gets these?

ziggy starbucks

you'd be amazed the total bollocks you can get away with when you become a prisoner regular on this site

see all posts by ziggy starbucks

wheatgod

MATE, were you on DRUGS when you wrote that?!!

Canted_Angle

Nope, I was on a few drugs when I wrote this though...

(notice how I centralise it to make it more arty/pretentious)

So wonderfully white the canvas on which I write
I'm so wonderfully orange and bathing in flash's
Dracula thighs are tempting me hither
And  black beacons on chest of me are moving on purple veins
Into me
Pirates with swastika mouths and swords under orange light
Tip toeing on my fingers
  All around such a cardboard stench I wish I'd got fresh
But these after eight delights will do for I am raisned
I delight in this light but feel so contorted and funnelled
Directioned to be
By the rooms I be
Frightened of light
Shinning into me
From your mouth
My heart
Collapses
A hole it comes
Dreams are raising murky glimpses are turning clear
As the blue of the grey turns into yesteryear, into this mornings glimmer
Of frostbite
In the aching cold, hours of the morning
That shake and bring you here
Bring you to me
I'm laughing and I'm dry
And all the joy within you dies
don't you want somebody to love?
don't you need somebody to love?
You want to find somebody to love
Some of the weirdest things are happening
seriously
with the weirdest sounds
And a wide angle lense
Separate but in the middle with a big orange flashing jodie in my face, low disk space
that's what's making all the noise that's drowning out the sounds that all those freaks are making
They are moving in the water down below
Lurking and waiting for something to be dropped down, or fall down
Is that blood
On my fingers
On these keys
Or am I just pleased to see me?
I'm a wrap around it's a wraparound
Its all Nathan barley

My bollocks are turning in on themselves
Its like they are lying to each over but being honest
I wish they'd go to bed and let me type
Thundering with the toilet role and probably masturbating ever dry tunnels long since dead to any sense of fuck

Its applause

Oh hosepipe hands pouring into flickey neon screeney
Will you give me money
No

Its denial
In a dreamscape now I am the only light around from here is the screen box move when type
Move when type
Pinch me
Pinch me
Pinch me
Pinch me
Punch me and snap
A clean page we are fresh we are white, we are working
I don't suppose this will ever stop spillage, is it a catastrophe or is it a separate scantily clad dichotomy of a disenfranchised half witted librarian wish,
who is locked into a self indulgent and entirely pitiful dribble about himself, he'll send to whoever will read it and make himself feel fuller
Like he has something to say like something matters out there
That even if something did matter in the blackness that is here right now, that maybe if something no matter how small or insignificant could matter that even I, being as small insignificant repulsive deluded quaintly repugnant as I am could come anywhere near close to even remotely justifying that with words is beyond me.....I'm finding structure in over elaborating, I am being chaz

I am stopping
I am being honest

Swallow
Continue
Breath I should look at the dark but the sounds on the floorboards get louder
They might come on
They might come in if I don't stop typing
But I have to type to let you know
You might be the last one to ever know
If they come in that is
I cant stop them if they do
They have the keys you see and I just have my bed sheets and these words

I'm feeling sick I'm feeling pretty transient to be honest
I'm feeling diluted
And convoluted unanimously sick to death of words
Which is fitting for my creative writing course
I may pick a paint brush
Find somewhere new to run
My hands feel hot on my chest this metal is hot to my cock
I think ill lay down

Oh gargantuan self magnifier will you please fuck off
Get red and blued into the distant burning black
My tummy's churning and my face is gurning
Im seeing blue follow the cursor im seeing things that arent here
Or there
I think

Thye got in they are in the corner breathing
Not its just the pipes from jodies place into my room I can shut them out
Nine incha naisl, fucking loud
How did I get here?
Hearts beating strange, im using my left hand more and everything seems a lot more calm
Than a moment ago
But I guess this is just a wave
The white really doesn't look as white and normal as it is
I mean the graphics are much better than reality
45 run away fast

Im quite cold and tired but I want to cum
My feet are hot and so is my laptop
Im shaking but intent to document
I mean I would speak this I would spit these words into a dictation machine which in turn would spit them onto a magnetic strip and then I and the machine would attempt to depict an accurate point of reference as to where we both are right now.
But I don't have such a  machine I am alone, alone with a mind, no, worse, my own mind, who knows what I might find.....perhaps nothing, perhaps everything.
Enough is enough and that is certainly it
Where's the guns the liquor the booze the woman the multiple wife's and hookers with knifes?
I find myself repeating myself, like a recycled diatribe like hunter but shite
I'm the piss drenched boot lovingly holding onto the edge of a sofa
The last drunk just crawled out of in a closing bar
My name is martin

I'll never loose half of what you will
Worship me
Its impossible for you plastic hand puppets to touch my piss covered grandeur
So try
Haha im out of alcohol and money and I think I threw up most of the mescaline
I was never in anywhere worth writing about
But maybe that's the point
Maybe Im writing with an Irish accent, or maybe its Scottish I get the two confused
Byebye blow jobs from both

Sit on my face shit on my face ill pay ya
whatever you're charging for ill barter for

I just arose, did I breath?
I did or was it a noise outside
There's something in my throat the lights getting brighter

I'm hearing noises a cheap Christmas sock going off in the draw
Or is it my phone
Paul's ringing in the screen

My hands are tim burtoning it on my chest
And the keys when I type
Sleep now I must

I did

I didn't

I'm awake
I have expunged a lot of what was inside me before
And met a few Chinese people who thought for dominance over my soul
They lost out to the bright lights of some other t.v show
But it didn't matter much because I shimmied off into the audience somewhere between ad breaks
Now I'm there looking at people beside me, they all have the same face as me










Angst in my Pants


Pseudopath

Fly like a mouse, run like a cushion, be the small bookcase.

t_kingpin

of an angle; between 90 and 180 degrees [ant: acute] 
2.  (of a leaf shape) rounded at the apex 
3.  lacking in insight or discernment; "too obtuse to grasp the implications of his behavior"; "a purblind oligarchy that flatly refused to see that history was condemning it to the dustbin"- Jasper Griffin 
4.  slow to learn or understand; lacking intellectual acuity; "so dense he never understands anything I say to him"; "never met anyone quite so dim"; "although dull at classical learning, at mathematics he was uncommonly quick"- Thackeray; "dumb officials make some really dumb decisions"; "he was either normally stupid or being deliberately obtuse"; "worked with the slow students" [syn: dense] 


Canted_Angle

If you ever trap chasmed
By a blue-biroed-tax feeder
Put thy hand upon thy thigh
And monica lawinski me
We will be free
Because we will have them all enslaved
We will 'market-narratives-tunesmiths of the past, in our future' 'em
yes.

They will beckon the big sweaty drunken common man who whips them
And ask them the latest  katemoss mixed with jondepp
Its their lollipop, with the dick of the man

You say they are idiots retarded rancid cunts
They are the waste the slime
If only they were the gravel at our feet and not the dialogue we speak

Fuck the twats that praise the Dogherty raft
Let them drown in their own mountain of hate
Their mountain of self loving

Let the charlatans die the maverick
Twats with 50's hat's
Washed out T's, stone washed jeans. Vintage shades
And a fucking bike with a straw basket, in Camden market
Sipping lemonade, there proud because there age is four years younger than years before

Mcklained out by the military dykes
The soft spoken wife's
The strong minded queers and the thinkers

They settle there score by cleaning there slate
By
Shaving there hair emulating there cloth's
They find a new friend to get fucked with
They milk out there week
Into the Murdock docks
Shops
they jump start their minds
By the new shapes lined
As of yet undefined but growing


Hank_Kingsley

Where's dekionplexis when you need him?

Now Playing: 'Oh Yeah' by Yello.

Neville Chamberlain

Quote from: Canted_Angle on August 21, 2007, 04:23:15 PM
Fuck the twats that praise the Dogherty raft

If you mean Pete Dogherty, then damn right, couldn't agree with you more.

Ciarán

Quote from: Notlob on August 18, 2007, 03:41:27 PM
This stuff reminds me of the nonsense you get at the beginning of spam e-mails to do with stocks. "indeterminable happy clowns held her in my nostrils fixated by the unending light of the full moon means that he was built for doodling careening the things with lovely muchness. MAKE MONEY! BUY K-TAC stocks for IMPA prices!"

...Or am I the only one that gets these?

It's very difficult to write fake spam isn't it? It's a really difficult style of writing to get right, because it's difficult to think of entirely unrelated words and to think in terms of completely ungrammatical sentences.

Shoulders?-Stomach!


Canted_Angle

Quote from: Ciarán on August 21, 2007, 09:38:20 PM
It's very difficult to write fake spam isn't it? It's a really difficult style of writing to get right, because it's difficult to think of entirely unrelated words and to think in terms of completely ungrammatical sentences.

Thank you for the obtuse compliment, or sarcasm drenched remark.

Canted_Angle

I hear you're hot on the pills of lust
You're inside luck
You're looking my sex in the eye
You're dripping drunk, hot
You're fucking funny

You get me?
If you don't, let me please rephrase it
Shall I?
Ok
I want to fuck you
I want you to go, deep, I want you to hurt me
I want you to make me, do everything, I want you to hurt me
Shall I promise to love you?
Will that make it worse or better, I get confused between the two
Are you fucking me? Am I fucking you?...I don't care either
...I'm such a witch
I'm sure you've noticed, that my face is on backwards
I mean I don't usually do this kind of thing, in-fact never have I felt this way, or that
I can tell by the look in your eye
You're nervous...is that because, because I'm not?
Please spill your beans
Sure I'll call you daddy
Sure I'll put that in my mouth after its been there
Daddy, I love the taste of sodomy
Shall I promise to marry you?
Will that make you tare my walls down faster?
Will that make you turn this small I into a wreck, faster?
I don't care if you kill me, just so long as you fill me, till I burst
I'll try to eat it, but I can already feel it, in my chest
It's the only thing Pounding in my breast

Discipline?

Control?

Print?




Inspired by Coil - Things happen (from loves secret domain LSD)


Utter Shit

Quote from: Canted_Angle on August 25, 2007, 05:07:42 PM
I hear you're hot on the pills of lust
You're inside luck
You're looking my sex in the eye


Isn't that a euphoric house track?