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Entry #135


2013-01-12 14:39:24 by NeverHundred

When I write I realize I have nothing to say.

But I do it anyways because I know that nearly everyone who's worth a damn has nothing to say. All the people who think they have a message are the real fools, liars and bores. Someone needs to give voice to the mindless! Thoughts for the thoughtless.

Like a dreamer who never sleeps, and a sleeper who never dreams. Realities that are interchangeable, inconsistent. I talked to a film critic who was also a realtor, he tells me, "It lacks a plot." I say... "You failed me one last time!" And he whimpers, "Just give me one more chance." And I take out a pistol and say, "I'll give you one more bullet!" While I execute him.


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2013-01-12 17:12:33

You assassinated the film critic? That wasn't in the script!

But the other film critic who you didn't kill did critique your killing method. Saying you were holding the gun wrong, said you shot like an amateur.

But I thought you did rather well considering you were holding your penis to commit the act.

NeverHundred responds:

They claim that everyone is a critic. But you know what, it's not true. Some people just don't give a dickslap in the face about film, or art, or farts!


2013-01-12 21:17:05

1 love

NeverHundred responds: Bk7aEGtos
U liek Bob Marley?


2013-01-13 02:00:20

I consider myself a critic which makes me sad really.

Crytic. The cryptic critic with cryogenically frozen genitals. But why just save my testicles and not the rest of me?

Who wants to live with a Sword of Testicles hanging over their heads? Quite liter-Ally McBeal.


2013-01-13 02:09:16

I don't like Bob Marley, but I do like to mob all the stores for Barley until I accidentally bump into Gnarls Barkley who starts snarling at me as I hardly look him in the eye before trying to walk away quietly, but he's having none of it, wants to settle this beef man-to-man, with a no holds barred fist fight. I'm getting sick of becoming embroiled in fist fights, I'd rather get soiled in fish juice like guts and lamprey high heels that poke me in the eye, and lead me to murder like Mark Chapman after reading The Catcher in the Rye. But I didn't let out a wry smile, as I dry-humped a white whale while sailing. I also fucked some wild grayling and caught fish poisoning...... In a net.

My fish poise is good.