I want to be very clear – there is no place on b3ta.com for bullying of any sort, from any side of the debate. It flies in the face of everything I believe and everything I stand for.
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drimble he'd been white, he'd been black,
Wed 2 Dec 2015, 21:40,
archived)
Now that's funny!
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BorisKarloff is in the back of the classroom forever,
Wed 2 Dec 2015, 21:41,
archived)
Did I ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? His whole abdomen would move up and down you dig farting out the words. It was unlike anything I ever heard.
This ass talk had sort of a gut frequency. It hit you right down there like you gotta go. You know when the old colon gives you the elbow and it feels sorta cold inside, and you know all you have to do is turn loose? Well this talking hit you right down there, a bubbly, thick stagnant sound, a sound you could smell.
This man worked for a carnival you dig, and to start with it was like a novelty ventriliquist act. Real funny, too, at first. He had a number he called “The Better ‘Ole” that was a scream, I tell you. I forget most of it but it was clever. Like, “Oh I say, are you still down there, old thing?”
“Nah I had to go relieve myself.”
After a while the ass start talking on its own. He would go in without anything prepared and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time.
Then it developed sort of teeth-like little raspy in-curving hooks and started eating. He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it, but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking on the street, shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags nobody loved it and it wanted to be kissed same as any other mouth. Finally it talked all the time day and night, you could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the asshole said to him: “It’s you who will shut up in the end. Not me. Because we dont need you around here any more. I can talk and eat and shit.”
After that he began waking up in the morning with a transparent jelly like a tadpole’s tail all over his mouth. This jelly was what the scientists call un-D.T., Undifferentiated Tissue, which can grow into any kind of flesh on the human body. He would tear it off his mouth and the pieces would stick to his hands like burning gasoline jelly and grow there, grow anywhere on him a glob of it fell. So finally his mouth sealed over, and the whole head would have have amputated spontaneous — (did you know there is a condition occurs in parts of Africa and only among Negroes where the little toe amputates spontaneously?) — except for the eyes you dig. Thats one thing the asshole couldn’t do was see. It needed the eyes. But nerve connections were blocked and infiltrated and atrophied so the brain couldn’t give orders any more. It was trapped in the skull, sealed off. For a while you could see the silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes, then finally the brain must have died, because the eyes went out, and there was no more feeling in them than a crab’s eyes on the end of a stalk.
(,
Wed 2 Dec 2015, 21:41,
archived)
This ass talk had sort of a gut frequency. It hit you right down there like you gotta go. You know when the old colon gives you the elbow and it feels sorta cold inside, and you know all you have to do is turn loose? Well this talking hit you right down there, a bubbly, thick stagnant sound, a sound you could smell.
This man worked for a carnival you dig, and to start with it was like a novelty ventriliquist act. Real funny, too, at first. He had a number he called “The Better ‘Ole” that was a scream, I tell you. I forget most of it but it was clever. Like, “Oh I say, are you still down there, old thing?”
“Nah I had to go relieve myself.”
After a while the ass start talking on its own. He would go in without anything prepared and his ass would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time.
Then it developed sort of teeth-like little raspy in-curving hooks and started eating. He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it, but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking on the street, shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags nobody loved it and it wanted to be kissed same as any other mouth. Finally it talked all the time day and night, you could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the asshole said to him: “It’s you who will shut up in the end. Not me. Because we dont need you around here any more. I can talk and eat and shit.”
After that he began waking up in the morning with a transparent jelly like a tadpole’s tail all over his mouth. This jelly was what the scientists call un-D.T., Undifferentiated Tissue, which can grow into any kind of flesh on the human body. He would tear it off his mouth and the pieces would stick to his hands like burning gasoline jelly and grow there, grow anywhere on him a glob of it fell. So finally his mouth sealed over, and the whole head would have have amputated spontaneous — (did you know there is a condition occurs in parts of Africa and only among Negroes where the little toe amputates spontaneously?) — except for the eyes you dig. Thats one thing the asshole couldn’t do was see. It needed the eyes. But nerve connections were blocked and infiltrated and atrophied so the brain couldn’t give orders any more. It was trapped in the skull, sealed off. For a while you could see the silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes, then finally the brain must have died, because the eyes went out, and there was no more feeling in them than a crab’s eyes on the end of a stalk.
the man who taught his asshole to talkvery much sums up beeter dot com
(,
Wed 2 Dec 2015, 21:42,
archived)
Have I told you about Squatter and the ant? drimble he'd been white, he'd been black,
Wed 2 Dec 2015, 21:45,
archived)
Well, Squatter, Squatter was in a terrible position.He was in Bahrain, which is a pretty bloody place to be. And there was this ant, which had only one leg and only one eye, and it was about two miles away from Squatter. So, a pretty bloody menacing position for Squatter, who was equipped only with, erm, you know, a hydrogen bomb, erm, six grenades, and, erm, a few rifles.
And this bloody ant, one eye, one leg, was advancing towards Squatter at about-, oh, I'd say at about, er, a mile every century, you know. Really speeding up. I think the animal was on drugs. Or heat, yes, as you may say. And Squatter, with his extraordinary calm, took it very smoothly. And do you know what he did?
Nothing.
He immediately did nothing.
And this stupified the ant. Stopped in its tracks. Didn't move an inch for about, um, three and a half years, yes. But still Squatter was very much aware of the problem of the ant, with all of one leg and all of one eye, advancing towards him. So he took up, you know, a strategic position with about five thousand men on one side and seven thousand men on the other side, all equipped with, er, various kinds of guns and so on. The ant was, er, fairly pinpointed. But what was odd was the ant understood Squatter. The ant realised he was up against somebody as good as-, as good as he was. Equals in their struggle, yes. So Squatter, with a tremendous display of courage, put up his hands and surrendered.
And the ant, five years laters, yes, five years laters, crept into the, er, hole, and Squatter was gone.
And this is the extraordinary thing about Squatter: he was never there when he was wanted. And Squatter told me later that, ah, he'd gone because he'd had to go.
That sums up Squatter for me.
(And this bloody ant, one eye, one leg, was advancing towards Squatter at about-, oh, I'd say at about, er, a mile every century, you know. Really speeding up. I think the animal was on drugs. Or heat, yes, as you may say. And Squatter, with his extraordinary calm, took it very smoothly. And do you know what he did?
Nothing.
He immediately did nothing.
And this stupified the ant. Stopped in its tracks. Didn't move an inch for about, um, three and a half years, yes. But still Squatter was very much aware of the problem of the ant, with all of one leg and all of one eye, advancing towards him. So he took up, you know, a strategic position with about five thousand men on one side and seven thousand men on the other side, all equipped with, er, various kinds of guns and so on. The ant was, er, fairly pinpointed. But what was odd was the ant understood Squatter. The ant realised he was up against somebody as good as-, as good as he was. Equals in their struggle, yes. So Squatter, with a tremendous display of courage, put up his hands and surrendered.
And the ant, five years laters, yes, five years laters, crept into the, er, hole, and Squatter was gone.
And this is the extraordinary thing about Squatter: he was never there when he was wanted. And Squatter told me later that, ah, he'd gone because he'd had to go.
That sums up Squatter for me.
drimble he'd been white, he'd been black,
Wed 2 Dec 2015, 21:47,
archived)
Did he also teach it to type?By any chance, was he suffering from diarrhoea at the time?
Are you that asshole?
(Are you that asshole?
RRNot is a miserable sinner,
Wed 2 Dec 2015, 23:10,
archived)