Well I suppose I can talk about this since it's been a few years and there's nothing tying this account or ip firmly to anything I'm going to describe. This is all creative fiction, of course- so let's all go SWIMMING!
One day I mixed around 100mg of 4-aco-dmt into one of those fat gatorade bottles. I drunk the whole thing slowly over 24 hours while taking .5 mg of xanax every 2 hours or so (I have a slow metabolism and so xanax lasts 8-12 hours for me, valium over 24, so, as you can imagine the xanax built up. And I was constantly inhaling a large vaporizer bowl half full of white widow and half full of the venerable Alaskan Thunderfuck throughout this whole period. Some days before this my girlfriend and I had amusingly watched a documentary about those obsessive, often on the spectrum, adult fans of my little pony who just love to masturbate to drawn porn of the little equines. 4chan should never have been invented.
Well anyway, out of psylocetic flights of whimsy I decided to try to see why the fuck people get so obsessed with that show. Whelp, I ended up watching all of the episodes of "Friendship is magic" in one sitting while eating countless candies and pastries and pissing every 5 minutes into an army of sniper bottles in front of the tv that was streaming the pirated children's media from my porn and game calculator. The bed was soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo soft. I locked all of our cats in the room with me. I started believing that there were secret messages contained within the pony show, that God (and am an atheist, but I get weird and randomly religious in eclectic ways when I binge on psychedelics) had inserted into the plots. If I could this figure out the MASTER PLAN, I believed that I was going to "sublime" into the fourth dimension as depicted in some of Ian M Banks' Sci Fi "Culture" series of books. I had encountered those books for a REASON. Everything had a PLAN. GOD WAS GUIDING ME. And every creature was just a part of god, which was the universe, so that it might experience itself because knowing all the eldritch knowledge gets boring I guess.
So if I could but learn the secret energy field manipulations taught by the love energies given off by the colorful ungulate cartoons (which had left the tv and become 3d somehow with fiberoptic living horse hairs going of in fractal impossible directions), I could ASCEND!!!
Sometime during all of this I became naked, locked all of our cats in the room with me and began "texture raping" their fur. This made me immensely hard, yet a holy cosmic horniness rather the intense and lovely, but more prosaic and slightly sadistic/domineering horniness of strong dopaminergics cocaine, methamphetamine, mephedrone, ect. I began rubbing my dick all over the cats to "make love to the softness". Strangely enough, this didn't seem to bother them at all and they were all purring.
After finishing the bottle of 4-aco-dmt, for whatever reason, I thought it would be a FANTASTIC idea to chew on a few tabs of LSD (or possible a nombe, I was too far gone to tell if the things were bitter or not). Then, spur of the moment, in an effort to contend for most eloquent winner of a Darwin award, I decided taking good old methylamphetamine would be a swell idea. I then took some really bizarre, GIANT pupiled, "erotic" photos with insane jokeresque faces while holding swords (both weabooo and viking), and with a bunch of guns taped to me with duct tape in hasty tweaker fashion, from angles which emphasized my mighty erection (I don't get stim dick, the no refractory period insane libido, download a terabyte of porn and masturbate yourself until your dick is all scab rather than skin and it hurts when you pee, and rock hard, giant throbbing erections was the entire reason I took those damn things). I then thought it a fan-damn-tastic idea to post these photos (via Tor) on some amatuer porn reddit for women and gay dudes. Half were turned on, half were terrified. I sorta forgot to edit the giant bags of weed, pills, and various crystalline and powdery substances (all of which I have done away with, I was going to have a fucking heart attack before I was thirty, I just stick with weed, MILD psychedelic doses, and a benzo or kratom at most once a week now) out of the background of the pictures. And in between and on all these containers of substances of substance were my feline companions, all staring up at me whilst telepathically communicating tips to me to make the pictures (which were being taken by a camera which automatically snapped a photo every two seconds) sexier.
Then, as it was becoming dawn now, I had an urge to go for a run. So I get on my shoes on and dash out the door, running like Usain Bolt into the forest while listening to heavy metal interspersed with Shpongle. After a few miles, I realized that I had remembered my shoes and underwear, but I had quite forgotten my pants and shirt (it was 50 degrees, fahrenheit, but I was sweating like a pig in a Jewish sauna). Then, right in the middle of the path, I saw a nude woman on a towel sunbathing. But upon closer inspection it turned out to be a mountain lion. This lion, like Azlan might cockblock the boyfriend of a Christian girl, was blocking both my cock and my way. So I had to run through the sort of ghettoish neighborhood adjacent to this nature preserve. Not ghetto as in blacks- there's hardly any blacks where I live. Just a whole lotta Mexicans. Now at this time it happened to be 7 am or whenever the fuck it is school buses show up to pick up k-12 cabbage patches, oh, I mean kids, that's what those little gremlins are called right? So I'm dashing up this street in semen encrusted underwear sweating like a porcupine covered in water balloons, right? And there's all these latina mother types sending their hijos y hijas off to the government brain washing camp glaring at me terrified (I'm heavily muscled and look sort of freaky running full bore at you methed up until my eyes are black as squid bukkake).
I finally get to the end of the street, where I can turn and run a mile or so to my neighborhood when one of the wicked swine "people" spots me, turns on his lights, and starts chasing me. But I had paths where cars could not follow and given my state, and the copper's obvious lack of fitness given his rotund pig face- he had no chance. Zaak Flash, good Sir, elf in running from law. Then I get home, take more meth, swallow some xanax for safety's sake (to ward off the seizure spirits which look sort of like glowing squids). Then I start watching increasingly bizarre porn (my girlfriend was obviously not at my place throughout this adventure), it got weirder and weirder (and it started out as stuff I wouldn't watch sober), until I was watching some hours long compilation of a bunch of dogs (woof woof dogs, not homie G dawgs) mating against nature with Dutch women. This is when I decided it would be a good idea to take my stun baton and start shocking my genitals. I was in such a state that such a thing felt electrically orgasmic, and then I think I went to the store to get dick shaped cucumbers to shove up my ass (not normally my thing, but the meth whispered to me that as many things at once needed to be stimulated and the prostate is a thing). At some point a day later I just sort of blacked out at my computer and slept on the floor for around 48 hours. The two weeks following that were not the best. Not the best.
Okay, I gotta go to bed (here's a tip- phenylpiracetam is actually a hell of a stimulant when combined with sufficient amounts of L-dopa and doesn't seem to have much of a crash and supposedly isn't shit for your brain like amphetamine), so you'll have to just deal with any typos.
I saw good men turned to mush in the wars against the soggies. Men much better than you, Mr. President. If you are going to take John Brennan's security clearance, take my security clearance too.
Forget beer checkers, beer chess and beer dejarik. Only these games are guaranteed to put you on dialysis by age 30.
Bonk: The Only Good Bonk Is A Head Bonk
We review every game from the last 2 months, plus all 21 SNES Classic titles
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