All Activity

"As you can see, Sergeant Major, the plant-hybridization program has yielded extraordinary results." Dr. Evelyn Marie Stevens adjusted her glasses with a self-satisfied smirk, indicating the Marine volunteers, through the one-way glass. Sergeant Major Theodore "Ironhide" McGrath's hard eyes flicked over each volunteer, from the young man sprouting thorns from his skin to the woman fetching a bottle of water with vines that grew from her fingertips before his eyes. "Fantastic. But are they always so... excitable?" He indicated the far bunk where a red-haired Marine with crimson flowers blooming up the length of his spine was thrusting awa

not tonight

not again

Cum again?

Fuck, to make it feel even better, or at least try.

Leoneedus, the Forgotten Spartan, has been awakened from his centuries-long slumber. Disoriented and seeking answers, he stumbles into an abandoned industrial complex on the outskirts of a modern city, where the remnants of old factories and machinery lie rusting and forgotten. His bronze armor dented and tarnished by time, Leoneedus steps cautiously into the industrial complex, his spear at the ready. The clanking and whirring of Bellatrixella, the Unhinged Tinkering Fae of Catastrophe's inventions fill the air, and he sees her darting between her creations, her eyes wild and her movements erratic. She notices him and lets out a bark of laug

Not guilty, and it... kind of sucks. Either I've done the thing so many times that my memory has been over-written, or I more remember the feeling of something, but most "first times" that are memorable are only memorable because they ended in disaster or led to disaster. This includes romance and relationships. Wait! Guilty. I still remember the first time I had crab cakes. They were awesome. The next person has a guilty pleasure food no one else seems to understand.

Come again?

It was a bright and sunny day in the park. The worst kind of day to be Sheila, the black metal guitarist, in her corpse paint. Whose idea was it to have a black metal concert in the middle of the park, anyway? She was going to give their vocalist, Jack Skellingtons-in-the-Closet, a piece of her mind! So stuck was she in her bridled rage that she didn't notice the three dogs running in unison towards her. Barreled over by canine affection, she let out a very not-black-metal yelp as she was knocked back, assaulted by slobbery licks of love. "I'm so sorry!" a young man, a professional walker of dogs, said frantically. He apologized profusel

Jillian, The Lucky Gambler, smiled across the table. "I still have 30 seconds before I lose the bet." She said, plunking her hand down on the stack of cash. Time ticked by in a slow infinity. "10, 9, 8, 7..." 'Damn it, John, don't you fuck me.' "3" Just then the air shimmered and a figure in a cheesy silver jump-suit appeared. He had a name tag that said John From the Future. "Told you," The Lucky Gambler said, raking the cash towards herself. "Not so fast." John From the Future added, "I get half, put it in my account or next time, you lose." Sheila, the black metal guitarist, in her corpse paint A pro

come over

Not guilty. Guilty. Two or three, actually, depending on where I am. The "count to ten, deep breaths" thing works when I'm just upset. When I'm very angry, I have a punching bag hanging in my garage and I beat the ever-loving shit out of it until I'm too tired to be angry. Sometimes just visualization works - imagine myself someplace special, safe, comfortable. My go-to place is actually being stuck in my old car in a rainstorm where you can't see more than two feet outside the windows and the rain is hammering on the roof so loudly even the car stereo won't drown it out. It's like being in another world, and it's from a very specific

A Bigfoot Impersonator, stuck in his convincing costume when the zipper broke, is being chased by a group of eager bigfoot hunters. In his panic, he runs to an isolated gas station at the edge of the vast, dark forest, where he'd been pranking campers, hoping to find a moment's respite. The Cashier Who Could Be a Model is working the late shift and is astonished to see the disheveled and frightened figure burst through the door. Now someone can provide a prompt for A Man With a Nametag That Reads 'John from the Future' and a Lucky Gambler.

(oops, doubled replied ) Guilty. The YMCA. I used to use their gym membership, and despite being in an extremely red area, they made an effort to put up signage and cultivate a welcoming atmosphere. Then they changed managers, all the signage was taken down and swapped for crucifixes and swirly text about God. But what cinched it was going in with two friends of mine (workout buddies!), who are a married gay couple, and watching them get harangued at the desk over someone who wanted to start shit over there being two adult men on 'the family plan' membership together and telling them they had to get two individual memberships. Bo

Guilty. Many. I have never given Chick-fil-A a penny. I won't do business with Home Depot, Walmart or most of the dollar stores. Most chain restaurants are on my "not on a bet" list, but mostly because there are way too many independent restaurants to try. I'm with @WickedCadrach. As for her accusation: guilty, if a wank counts Next poster loves McDonald's.

come out

Fuck, to keep going and make happy Monday into tired Tuesday!

yank (I had a friend who said he had to go home for "a good yank" after watching a movie with several explicit sex scenes, so I assume it means masturbate... but all I could think was "dear lord, take it easy on that thing!")

Fuck. To make it a happy Monday morning for us both. ❤

thought out

patchouli

Kill, for killing the momentum of the thread

thought bubble

thought shift

Not guilty. I haven't paid for cable since it was an option to not pay for cable. Our local cable company can <expletive deleted>. The next person has a certain company, store, or restaurant to which they refuse to give their business ever again.