The Naughty Step
When was the last time you were told off? Tell us about memorable punishments you've experienced, or damn good ones you've dished out
( , Thu 7 Feb 2013, 12:14)
When was the last time you were told off? Tell us about memorable punishments you've experienced, or damn good ones you've dished out
( , Thu 7 Feb 2013, 12:14)
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I'm not afraid to die...
My story begins with the police coming and dragging me out of my house. The trial was fast, and I was soon on Death Row. However, I'm not guilty. Not at all. But still... I'm not afraid to die.
So while I'm in there, I started to go a bit crazy; things had auras around them and I mentally put them into 'good' or 'ungood' categories. I even saw the face of Jesus in my soup, one day. I interpreted thee signs, and wrote them down, there within the four black walls, whilst reading and hearing about Jesus - how he was born in a manger amd then died on a cross. It seemed fitting in a way; he was a carpenter by trade or at least that's what I'm told.
So next thing I'm tattooing the letters E V I L across my hand. The dichotomy of life, the struggle of good vs bad was playing out in my mind, made all the more real by the stark contrast of my wedding ring that spells G O O D.
Finally the day comes, and I climb into the electric chair. My head has been shaved and I'm tense and nervous, like a moth trying to enter the bright eye. So I go shuffling out of life, and I know that the mercy seat is waiting, and I think my head is burning, and in a way I'm yearning to be done with all this measuring of truth. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, and anyway I told the truth, but I'm afraid I told a lie.
( , Fri 8 Feb 2013, 19:07, 3 replies)
My story begins with the police coming and dragging me out of my house. The trial was fast, and I was soon on Death Row. However, I'm not guilty. Not at all. But still... I'm not afraid to die.
So while I'm in there, I started to go a bit crazy; things had auras around them and I mentally put them into 'good' or 'ungood' categories. I even saw the face of Jesus in my soup, one day. I interpreted thee signs, and wrote them down, there within the four black walls, whilst reading and hearing about Jesus - how he was born in a manger amd then died on a cross. It seemed fitting in a way; he was a carpenter by trade or at least that's what I'm told.
So next thing I'm tattooing the letters E V I L across my hand. The dichotomy of life, the struggle of good vs bad was playing out in my mind, made all the more real by the stark contrast of my wedding ring that spells G O O D.
Finally the day comes, and I climb into the electric chair. My head has been shaved and I'm tense and nervous, like a moth trying to enter the bright eye. So I go shuffling out of life, and I know that the mercy seat is waiting, and I think my head is burning, and in a way I'm yearning to be done with all this measuring of truth. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, and anyway I told the truth, but I'm afraid I told a lie.
( , Fri 8 Feb 2013, 19:07, 3 replies)
that's nothing
Do you remember the fire of '91 that razed the Bella Vista slum? It was the biggest shitfight this country's ever seen. Insurance companies ruined, landlords getting sued?
That was me.
But I never crucified little Biko, that was two junior high school psychos- Stinky Bohoon and his friend with the pumpkin-sized head.
( , Fri 8 Feb 2013, 21:06, closed)
Do you remember the fire of '91 that razed the Bella Vista slum? It was the biggest shitfight this country's ever seen. Insurance companies ruined, landlords getting sued?
That was me.
But I never crucified little Biko, that was two junior high school psychos- Stinky Bohoon and his friend with the pumpkin-sized head.
( , Fri 8 Feb 2013, 21:06, closed)
Were you the one with the
Green hair and yellow eyes?
Shame about that old lady though.
( , Sat 9 Feb 2013, 11:32, closed)
Green hair and yellow eyes?
Shame about that old lady though.
( , Sat 9 Feb 2013, 11:32, closed)
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