2009, October 23-24 - Twilight edition of the Junk - Get Your Mood On!

I even find the act of paining my toenails very relaxing and having pretty colored toenails is one of my favorite things even if I don’t seem them outside of a shower because it is too cold :)

sounds like they got home hours ago, and he is resting…

What if she has hot friends?

after the bet of course

but i would be a horrible bowling teacher

that was with Pietrus defending him. I dont think thats DPOY material at all.

Pronounced,Sue wave and de boner

(I’m not gonna name names)

Yes, your t.v. is horrible

Banks make money off of your money, and furthermore you have no say in what the use your money for. Don’t let them turn it around on you. They owe you for your business.

(sputters)

I flip prez off every time I see it.

flag

I had my own problems with a big bank. I just switched to a new big bank because of it.

but I didn’t want to look like a poseur and ask

And I don’t get the irony or moral of “oh it’s so easy to save yourself, just cut off your leg/pull out all those hooks from your flesh/rip off the threads from your eyes and mouth/grab into that acid/…”

As you can see, I have brought myself to some of those installments at least in part. But I wouldn’t want to have more gullible people and kids watch that on TV.

And other recent “horror” movies where it’s just people tied up and tortured. Lame.

It’s kinda weird though so I’ll try to explain:
The dream started out with me and a few other people sitting in an open-topped mini-van around sunset. I don’t know what kind it was but I could tell it was from some alternate-reality/future. We were all sitting there looking at a necklace that I was wearing, it was silver in color but much shinier than silver, more chrome in appearance, on a cable chain. The pendant itself was in sort of an organic, free-form shape having no seemingly intended design, more like lump of metal frozen in the first stage of being molten. While we were sitting there(we were parked in a suburban neighborhood, more like a layout from the 50’s than the developments we see today), the road stretched out straight ahead of us for as far as the eye could see, while centuries old maples and elms overhung the side of the road dotted with parked cars.
       Suddenly overhead we watched as some flying robot/insect/octopi like creatures resembling the robots from "The Matrix" except more humanoid in appearance when looking at the formation of the head, homed in on us and descended. Quickly they all turned to me and to the pendant that I was fondling around my neck.
      "He’s the one." they said
       "One what?", I thought to myself.
       "You with the necklace, you will have to come with us."
       "Where are we going?" I asked
       "You will find out. Here get in this Camaro and follow us."
         So the "Camaro" that they spoke of was certainly not a camaro that anyone from this reality would be familiar with, it was more like something that you would have seen during the golden age of car shows, in the early to mid-sixties. A vehicle without doors but instead having a large bubble that acted as the windshield, roof and doors, stuck into a great chrome flattened tube, with four open, non-fendered wheels, stuck on the outside.
        I got in and after getting a signal from the flying robots, I took off with nary a squeal of the skinny tires. We quickly accelerated through the neighborhood, and as we moved faster and faster I could barely begin making out a rock face straight ahead, where once had been an indeterminate horizon. I began to get anxious, and just before I mashed my foot into the break pedal, as the human instinct for self-preservation had reached an undeniable level, a portion of the stone face moved up, a la Batman, and I quickly disappeared into an ivy-covered, granite facade.
       As soon as I was inside I was assaulted with a dominating, overlord-esque voice, blasting over this underground tunnels loudspeakers. The corridor in which I was driving appeared near perfect in it’s construction, and while it had seams and joints where ceiling, floor and wall panels came together, you could tell at first glimpse that a straight-edge placed across the joints would lay perfectly flat. The material was a darker, charcoal grey metal and the whole complex was in the shape of an extremely long flattened tube.
        The voice perforated my head, and said to me," Welcome John. I have brought you here to participate in my beautiful death race."
         " Death race? What the hell is that?" I thought
        But before I could respond I spotted the end of the corridor, and not having time to stop the car I spun it sideways, and leapt out of the bubble/roof/door and performed a stunt roll move that i saw in the dukes of hazzard or something. The car smashed into the wall and immediately exploded, and when I finally lifted my head, I could see on the other side of the floor two figures standing nervously. I pulled myself to my feet and walked over.
         One of the figures was immediately identifiable as the Marlboro man, a rugged and dusty cowboy, with blue jeans and well worn boots, while the other appeared to be a living piece of candy. A life-sized lollipop man of some sort, except badly manufactured. He was nearly two-dimensional, a little over six feet tall, with oversized appendages and a giant cartoon head. The candy was a hard candy of a reddish-brown color, but aged like a hard-candy gets when it’s left in a cellophane wrapper for 5 years, and the features were painted on with that white food grade paint, that many of us born before the advent of skittles should be familiar with. The stick was, well, up his butt, but that wasn’t the most distinguishing feature of this strange creature. It appeared as if his nose was an afterthought. Upon closer inspection one could detect how a hole had been pressed into his face where the nose should be, and then a ball of the same type of candy that made up the rest of him, had been jammed in and held in place with a piece of scotch-tape.
          Suddenly, the voice on the loudspeaker said "Welcome to my death-race. You have been selected to be a part of this because I am completely mad, and I have a lot of money."
         The Marlboro man instinctively reached for his lasso, and was immediately decapitated by an invisible force. I looked at the candy man.
          I said, " What are you?"
         To which he replied," I’m a puffy-pepper pop. I’m a candy man flavored like bell pepper. I’m the worst candy ever, I don’t even know why they made me."
         "Run!" I screamed as massive, green flame-balls flew at us from all directions. And then his nose fell out.
        "Leave me here, I don’t deserve to live, I don’t want to live."
        " I’m not leaving you!" I said, and forced his candy, nose ball back into place replacing the tape.
         Suddenly laughter filled the room in the dream, and I woke up laughing hysterically, waking my girlfriend beside me. Overwhelmed with laughter, and unable to draw a complete breath, I tried to answer her queries about why I was laughing, and minutes later, barely managed to get out," I’m a puffy-pepper pop, I’m the worst candy ever!"

hey, ltrain, I proposed a trade. check it out.

If it’s regarding the new girl, I can’t blame a teen girl for not watching a 10 year old movie that gives guys boners. I’m pretty sure I saw a couple of post where people invited her to the JD and said it’s where the cool people hang out.

Does this story sound familiar?

Large group of people hangs out a lot, getting to know each other over a long period of time. They have inside jokes, funny acronyms, words like Ganong, etc… One day someone off the street shows up and starts interrupting every conversation, making people explain what the inside jokes mean, what every acronym means, and claims to have never seen any movie being discussed. Also, has trouble with genders.

by TheTinfoil on Oct 24, 2009 12:10 AM PDT reply actions 0 r

ecs

Ain’t no cure for Southern Oregon.