Profile for Digeridude:
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Best answers to questions:
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- a member for 7 years, 2 months and 25 days
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- has posted 73 stories and 74 replies on question of the week
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Recent front page messages:
Good day.
Edit: The nose is a squid. *FACT*
Edit 2: WOO, second frontpage!
(Sun 22nd Jun 2003, 23:52, More)
Edit: The nose is a squid. *FACT*
Edit 2: WOO, second frontpage!
(Sun 22nd Jun 2003, 23:52, More)
Best answers to questions:
» I'm going to Hell...
United 93, AKA the September 11th film.
The passengers have overpowered the hijackers, but it's too late. The plane is heading into a nose dive from five thousand feet.
"This is it!" they scream.
Expectant mothers, crying husbands and wives desperately punching numbers for one last phone call, grown men wimpering and hugging, the torrent of children's screams as the plane hurtles towards the ground.
"OH GOD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"
And just like that, it ends with a mighty crunch, a fireball, and the stench of burning flesh.
...
Now who let's out a Counterstrike-esque "Terrorists win!" at this point, in a packed theater of teary-eyed New Yorkers?
Go on, guess.
(Wed 17th Dec 2008, 22:54, More)
United 93, AKA the September 11th film.
The passengers have overpowered the hijackers, but it's too late. The plane is heading into a nose dive from five thousand feet.
"This is it!" they scream.
Expectant mothers, crying husbands and wives desperately punching numbers for one last phone call, grown men wimpering and hugging, the torrent of children's screams as the plane hurtles towards the ground.
"OH GOD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"
And just like that, it ends with a mighty crunch, a fireball, and the stench of burning flesh.
...
Now who let's out a Counterstrike-esque "Terrorists win!" at this point, in a packed theater of teary-eyed New Yorkers?
Go on, guess.
(Wed 17th Dec 2008, 22:54, More)
» Customers from Hell
I used to work in the gift shop at an amusement park - toys and trinkets mostly -
and dealt with a customer base of approximately 80% moron. Children, despite being young and unknowing, were no exception to this trend.
A very obnoxious girl, maybe ten or eleven, comes in with her two younger brothers and starts raving about all the shiny objects in the shop (as little girls do). She comes across a mood ring, clearly having never seen one before, reads the instructions, holds it in her palm for all of two seconds, and SLAMS it down on my counter.
"IT'S BROKEN!!"
"You have to hold it longer!" exclaims her six-year-old brother.
"Shutup! Shutup! You're shit!" she replies, "I held it and it's still blue! It doesn't tell anything about my personality."
I take a deep breath.
"It works just fine. Blue means you're retarded."
(Thu 4th Sep 2008, 21:54, More)
I used to work in the gift shop at an amusement park - toys and trinkets mostly -
and dealt with a customer base of approximately 80% moron. Children, despite being young and unknowing, were no exception to this trend.
A very obnoxious girl, maybe ten or eleven, comes in with her two younger brothers and starts raving about all the shiny objects in the shop (as little girls do). She comes across a mood ring, clearly having never seen one before, reads the instructions, holds it in her palm for all of two seconds, and SLAMS it down on my counter.
"IT'S BROKEN!!"
"You have to hold it longer!" exclaims her six-year-old brother.
"Shutup! Shutup! You're shit!" she replies, "I held it and it's still blue! It doesn't tell anything about my personality."
I take a deep breath.
"It works just fine. Blue means you're retarded."
(Thu 4th Sep 2008, 21:54, More)
» Social Networking Gaffes
In the early days of MySpace, when I hadn't yet realized how juvenile and useless everyone on it was,
I was invited to an all-around party thing in downtown Chicago by a group of classmates - eight of us total. The plan was to paint the town red in a manner befitting timid first-year art students, which is to say that we would go to the beach and the zoo, and maybe have a good deep dish pizza.
Having only a cursory knowledge of one another, it didn't become apparent until later in the evening that one among us was not our kind. In fact, a young man named Rod - clearly five years our superior - had infiltrated our MySpace group, masquerading as a fellow student. He was alright at first, even paid for dinner, but after having a few drinks down his neck he started to get a bit...wild. For our tastes. For his opening act on the beach, he harvested a healthy crop of wild shellfish found clinging to a rock, and promptly ate them raw.
DEAR GOD. This was lake Michigan, and we were right by the city runoff pipe.
"Yea-heah! I fuckin' LOVE MYSPACE!" he exclaimed, mouth dribbling with black slime, "I fuckin' love you guys!"
Stuffing the remains down his trousers, he followed us to the zoo, unaware that we were trying to escape his madness. It might also have been the fact that with a belly full of rum and sewage-laced mollusks, he was now a walking time bomb. A walking time bomb with fifty shells in his pants that jingled as he walked, as if he'd just shat out a small treasury.
Our efforts to avoid him were in vain, as he followed us around the zoo, belching and making up facts about the animals.
"Eighteen thousand children are killed each year by macaques. It's India's leading cause of infant mortality."
This man was a nut. Plain and simple. He wasn't being funny or ironic, he was just insane. We reached the giraffe enclosure and something horrible happened. As he shouted and slapped the poor animals' noses, the foul chemistry within his gut reached critical mass. No, he didn't vomit. Rather, somehow the chemical constituents of rotting seafood and alcohol had reacted in such a way as to produce a perfect giraffe aphrodisiac. A giraphrodisiac.
The giraffes became aroused, and our new friend, cackling louder than the hyenas, reached through the bars to perform a vile deed on the nearest one.
Yes, it was the sea shell nut wanking giraffes.
(Tue 16th Sep 2008, 17:15, More)
In the early days of MySpace, when I hadn't yet realized how juvenile and useless everyone on it was,
I was invited to an all-around party thing in downtown Chicago by a group of classmates - eight of us total. The plan was to paint the town red in a manner befitting timid first-year art students, which is to say that we would go to the beach and the zoo, and maybe have a good deep dish pizza.
Having only a cursory knowledge of one another, it didn't become apparent until later in the evening that one among us was not our kind. In fact, a young man named Rod - clearly five years our superior - had infiltrated our MySpace group, masquerading as a fellow student. He was alright at first, even paid for dinner, but after having a few drinks down his neck he started to get a bit...wild. For our tastes. For his opening act on the beach, he harvested a healthy crop of wild shellfish found clinging to a rock, and promptly ate them raw.
DEAR GOD. This was lake Michigan, and we were right by the city runoff pipe.
"Yea-heah! I fuckin' LOVE MYSPACE!" he exclaimed, mouth dribbling with black slime, "I fuckin' love you guys!"
Stuffing the remains down his trousers, he followed us to the zoo, unaware that we were trying to escape his madness. It might also have been the fact that with a belly full of rum and sewage-laced mollusks, he was now a walking time bomb. A walking time bomb with fifty shells in his pants that jingled as he walked, as if he'd just shat out a small treasury.
Our efforts to avoid him were in vain, as he followed us around the zoo, belching and making up facts about the animals.
"Eighteen thousand children are killed each year by macaques. It's India's leading cause of infant mortality."
This man was a nut. Plain and simple. He wasn't being funny or ironic, he was just insane. We reached the giraffe enclosure and something horrible happened. As he shouted and slapped the poor animals' noses, the foul chemistry within his gut reached critical mass. No, he didn't vomit. Rather, somehow the chemical constituents of rotting seafood and alcohol had reacted in such a way as to produce a perfect giraffe aphrodisiac. A giraphrodisiac.
The giraffes became aroused, and our new friend, cackling louder than the hyenas, reached through the bars to perform a vile deed on the nearest one.
Yes, it was the sea shell nut wanking giraffes.
(Tue 16th Sep 2008, 17:15, More)
» Why I was late
The truth.
I was late this morning, and used the excuse of "my shower broke."
In reality, I got lost in deep thought while sitting on the toilet. I was thinking about UFOs.
(Thu 28th Jun 2007, 18:14, More)
The truth.
I was late this morning, and used the excuse of "my shower broke."
In reality, I got lost in deep thought while sitting on the toilet. I was thinking about UFOs.
(Thu 28th Jun 2007, 18:14, More)
» Cougars and Sugar Daddies
I met her atop Fleshfang Spire, my time machine having triggered a causality spike from my admittedly lackadaisical degaussing of the drive magnets, which
designated an arbitrary ejection point some 66,238,003 years
BC. As I stumbled from the delivery system, still unaware of my
surroundings, I managed - with a skip of the heart - to glimpse
something gleaming beautifully to my right. An ancient jewel? A crust
of particle resonance upon a shattered reaction chamber lamplet from
my machine?
No, 'twas the obsidian eye of my newly beloved.
Her face spoke of curiosity, illuminated by the cupric effulgence of
the brilliant caldera below. Orange light upon her green skin, she
was jet black, and I was unable to discern any details save for two
moist nostrils, and a panting tongue.
"Baroooo!" she bellowed, "Wannuuuurg-hoooo!"
Again my heart fluttered. What was this melodious sound?
"Choff-choff-nuueeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" she beckoned me closer and OH!
how my fancies took flight.
She took my hand 'twixt her teeth, the delicate flesh of my armpit
tearing under the strain. The agony would have been unbearable, were
it not for the occasional ecstatic brush of my knee against her
leathery breastbone. I dangled happily and wondered as she galloped
through the thicket of gymnosperms...what plans might she have for
me?
She had children. This came as a surprise, but I was happy to meet
them. I could feel their little teeth gnashing and chomping at my
extremities as I writhed admidst oversized egg shells and oily piles
of excrement. Within minutes I had been entirely devoured save for an
eyeball and four hairs. My love raised her head to the sky, a hellish
and beautiful scream of triumph emanating from her resonating sinuses,
as if to challenge the gods themselves.
And, though dead, I dreamt many a dream that night, my spirits lifted
by the warmth of dinosaur kisses and time machine dreams.
THE END.
(Tue 9th Dec 2008, 20:12, More)
I met her atop Fleshfang Spire, my time machine having triggered a causality spike from my admittedly lackadaisical degaussing of the drive magnets, which
designated an arbitrary ejection point some 66,238,003 years
BC. As I stumbled from the delivery system, still unaware of my
surroundings, I managed - with a skip of the heart - to glimpse
something gleaming beautifully to my right. An ancient jewel? A crust
of particle resonance upon a shattered reaction chamber lamplet from
my machine?
No, 'twas the obsidian eye of my newly beloved.
Her face spoke of curiosity, illuminated by the cupric effulgence of
the brilliant caldera below. Orange light upon her green skin, she
was jet black, and I was unable to discern any details save for two
moist nostrils, and a panting tongue.
"Baroooo!" she bellowed, "Wannuuuurg-hoooo!"
Again my heart fluttered. What was this melodious sound?
"Choff-choff-nuueeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" she beckoned me closer and OH!
how my fancies took flight.
She took my hand 'twixt her teeth, the delicate flesh of my armpit
tearing under the strain. The agony would have been unbearable, were
it not for the occasional ecstatic brush of my knee against her
leathery breastbone. I dangled happily and wondered as she galloped
through the thicket of gymnosperms...what plans might she have for
me?
She had children. This came as a surprise, but I was happy to meet
them. I could feel their little teeth gnashing and chomping at my
extremities as I writhed admidst oversized egg shells and oily piles
of excrement. Within minutes I had been entirely devoured save for an
eyeball and four hairs. My love raised her head to the sky, a hellish
and beautiful scream of triumph emanating from her resonating sinuses,
as if to challenge the gods themselves.
And, though dead, I dreamt many a dream that night, my spirits lifted
by the warmth of dinosaur kisses and time machine dreams.
THE END.
(Tue 9th Dec 2008, 20:12, More)