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Once upon a time there was a Halibut called Jeff. He was a very tall Halibut with short aspirations.
He loved to eat with his dear, old granny but sometimes they used to care.
Next day there was a storm that had no significance whatsoever. It lasted eighteen centuries.
Afterwards Margaret decided she had had enough, it was time to end her life. So at the next opportunity she upset a horse called Effer.
Effer was strange in the sense that he loved other horses. Each time he walked he just walked and walked.
Jeff tried on a nice dress that suited better to his landlord. His landlord was extremely lonely with just his friends to keep him company.
Jeff had a problem. He never believed that the point of being is to be. Being is here and being is also there but never here and there, but sometimes there and here but not quite there and nearly here.
My uncle works at a nunnery where God is ever present.
In the nunnery there was a carcass known to the nuns as John Doe. John Doe was very particular in his sense of taste. He liked to flavour his medicine with special spoons.
Jeff walked into a shop.
John Doe was out doing his yearly shopping for his mum when suddenly a Jew struck him down. Appeared from nowhere, Jeff swooped down to assist in the raping of Jeff’s selfish pride.
Stripped from all dignity, and everything he had worked for in the shed, John Doe stood up.
Jeff picked up John Doe. Together they walked off, talking loudly about fencing.
Woodwork is the new honeycomb.
From a distance the grumpy lard bubbled excitedly about the forthcoming explosion. Jeff and John Doe floated down the road, bellowing their plans to change the moon.
In Moscow there is nothing that is worth it.
Jeff decided that enough was said between him and his new Comrade and that action is needed if jelly is to be saved from setting.
John Doe also agreed with what Jeff was saying but in a way he was reluctant in the displaying of his already exposed inner outside.
In the pasture cows were churning and the salmon were flying with a speed worthy of the sun on a collision course with destiny.
More to the point a great ball of flaming ice was speeding towards the world we have come to know as Harry. Harry was weeping; she saw the end was near, nearer than the start anyway.
Jeff had a revelation. He changed his ways in aid of helping himself. He forgot anyone existed, except John Doe who was always there, and left everyone alone to deal with their own problems and to sort out my life.
Ice was coming and there was little time.
John Doe, in the meantime was a sceptical carcass who did not agree with what Jeff was doing and saying but he conformed and said nothing.
Jeff paid no attention to what John Doe wasn’t saying. It didn’t matter, John Doe minded not. Or did he?
Harry wasn’t looking, facing the sun when it happened she was. She never felt it. Just as well really. It stings, I should know.
Ice destroys, but not as much as despair. Despair killed Harry that night. Nothing else, the despair was enough to bring down the whole network but one thing saved the rest. But no, it was not John Doe, for he was shameful in his ways and had a self esteem worthy of suicide victims. Jeff was pure. Harsh but pure. He saved everything. It mattered not because for Harry, there was nothing.
After this had happened there was more. More for John Doe and for Jeff, and also for every other organism on the planet Harry.
You could call it an afterlife, but it could also be a beforelife or even an inbetweenlife, but for now I shall refer to it as an afterlife.
Nothing.
Time had no essence and essence had no time. It did not matter. There was no reason. No meaning. Nothing.
This did not stop Jeff, nor for that matter John Doe.
Jeff still cared for himself even if there was nothing. He did not need anything to be able to be selfish, to be self-involved, lonely, alone, blue.
John Doe, on the other hand, thrived on others. He had no inner self; he did not have a reason to have one. After all, there is nothing.
Clowns are scary. So are imps. But not as scary as the force that had now escaped into this afterlifeless nothing.
John Doe is one of those kind of people that decides he is not him but someone else but at the same time he is being himself as well because being someone else whilst being himself is who he is.
The only point in this story is nothing.
John Doe was once again alone, he was not allowed where Jeff was. There was nothing where Jeff was but there was nothing where John Doe was. This suited Jeff well because he was only himself but for John Doe, who relied on others, this was painful.
He had to think for himself. This suited him well eventually, because he realised who he was. He was no longer John Doe the man who never thought jus followed, he was John Doe, the man who was forced to be himself and was given time to think for himself. And he did.
All this was a bit pointless. Harry was dead, only nothing existed. It was too late to put any of this into practise.
John Doe, and Jeff, and the rest of “civilisation” were condemned to a “life” of nothing, pure, simple nothing. Alone.
A Mango. An Orange. A litter of Children. All the same. No difference. All the same. Even with the greatest change between things its all the same in the end. Everything ends up exactly the same. Not just ends up the same, but is the same. Animals all seem different, but are always the same. All the damn same. Who cares? It’s the same. Always.
Who am I? It doesn’t matter. Really. It doesn’t.
He loved to eat with his dear, old granny but sometimes they used to care.
Next day there was a storm that had no significance whatsoever. It lasted eighteen centuries.
Afterwards Margaret decided she had had enough, it was time to end her life. So at the next opportunity she upset a horse called Effer.
Effer was strange in the sense that he loved other horses. Each time he walked he just walked and walked.
Jeff tried on a nice dress that suited better to his landlord. His landlord was extremely lonely with just his friends to keep him company.
Jeff had a problem. He never believed that the point of being is to be. Being is here and being is also there but never here and there, but sometimes there and here but not quite there and nearly here.
My uncle works at a nunnery where God is ever present.
In the nunnery there was a carcass known to the nuns as John Doe. John Doe was very particular in his sense of taste. He liked to flavour his medicine with special spoons.
Jeff walked into a shop.
John Doe was out doing his yearly shopping for his mum when suddenly a Jew struck him down. Appeared from nowhere, Jeff swooped down to assist in the raping of Jeff’s selfish pride.
Stripped from all dignity, and everything he had worked for in the shed, John Doe stood up.
Jeff picked up John Doe. Together they walked off, talking loudly about fencing.
Woodwork is the new honeycomb.
From a distance the grumpy lard bubbled excitedly about the forthcoming explosion. Jeff and John Doe floated down the road, bellowing their plans to change the moon.
In Moscow there is nothing that is worth it.
Jeff decided that enough was said between him and his new Comrade and that action is needed if jelly is to be saved from setting.
John Doe also agreed with what Jeff was saying but in a way he was reluctant in the displaying of his already exposed inner outside.
In the pasture cows were churning and the salmon were flying with a speed worthy of the sun on a collision course with destiny.
More to the point a great ball of flaming ice was speeding towards the world we have come to know as Harry. Harry was weeping; she saw the end was near, nearer than the start anyway.
Jeff had a revelation. He changed his ways in aid of helping himself. He forgot anyone existed, except John Doe who was always there, and left everyone alone to deal with their own problems and to sort out my life.
Ice was coming and there was little time.
John Doe, in the meantime was a sceptical carcass who did not agree with what Jeff was doing and saying but he conformed and said nothing.
Jeff paid no attention to what John Doe wasn’t saying. It didn’t matter, John Doe minded not. Or did he?
Harry wasn’t looking, facing the sun when it happened she was. She never felt it. Just as well really. It stings, I should know.
Ice destroys, but not as much as despair. Despair killed Harry that night. Nothing else, the despair was enough to bring down the whole network but one thing saved the rest. But no, it was not John Doe, for he was shameful in his ways and had a self esteem worthy of suicide victims. Jeff was pure. Harsh but pure. He saved everything. It mattered not because for Harry, there was nothing.
After this had happened there was more. More for John Doe and for Jeff, and also for every other organism on the planet Harry.
You could call it an afterlife, but it could also be a beforelife or even an inbetweenlife, but for now I shall refer to it as an afterlife.
Nothing.
Time had no essence and essence had no time. It did not matter. There was no reason. No meaning. Nothing.
This did not stop Jeff, nor for that matter John Doe.
Jeff still cared for himself even if there was nothing. He did not need anything to be able to be selfish, to be self-involved, lonely, alone, blue.
John Doe, on the other hand, thrived on others. He had no inner self; he did not have a reason to have one. After all, there is nothing.
Clowns are scary. So are imps. But not as scary as the force that had now escaped into this afterlifeless nothing.
John Doe is one of those kind of people that decides he is not him but someone else but at the same time he is being himself as well because being someone else whilst being himself is who he is.
The only point in this story is nothing.
John Doe was once again alone, he was not allowed where Jeff was. There was nothing where Jeff was but there was nothing where John Doe was. This suited Jeff well because he was only himself but for John Doe, who relied on others, this was painful.
He had to think for himself. This suited him well eventually, because he realised who he was. He was no longer John Doe the man who never thought jus followed, he was John Doe, the man who was forced to be himself and was given time to think for himself. And he did.
All this was a bit pointless. Harry was dead, only nothing existed. It was too late to put any of this into practise.
John Doe, and Jeff, and the rest of “civilisation” were condemned to a “life” of nothing, pure, simple nothing. Alone.
A Mango. An Orange. A litter of Children. All the same. No difference. All the same. Even with the greatest change between things its all the same in the end. Everything ends up exactly the same. Not just ends up the same, but is the same. Animals all seem different, but are always the same. All the damn same. Who cares? It’s the same. Always.
Who am I? It doesn’t matter. Really. It doesn’t.
Page:
Once upon a time there was a Halibut called Jeff. He was a very tall Halibut with short aspirations.
He loved to eat with his dear, old granny but sometimes they used to care.
Next day there was a storm that had no significance whatsoever. It lasted eighteen centuries.
Afterwards Margaret decided she had had enough, it was time to end her life. So at the next opportunity she upset a horse called Effer.
Effer was strange in the sense that he loved other horses. Each time he walked he just walked and walked.
Jeff tried on a nice dress that suited better to his landlord. His landlord was extremely lonely with just his friends to keep him company.
Jeff had a problem. He never believed that the point of being is to be. Being is here and being is also there but never here and there, but sometimes there and here but not quite there and nearly here.
My uncle works at a nunnery where God is ever present.
In the nunnery there was a carcass known to the nuns as John Doe. John Doe was very particular in his sense of taste. He liked to flavour his medicine with special spoons.
Jeff walked into a shop.
John Doe was out doing his yearly shopping for his mum when suddenly a Jew struck him down. Appeared from nowhere, Jeff swooped down to assist in the raping of Jeff’s selfish pride.
Stripped from all dignity, and everything he had worked for in the shed, John Doe stood up.
Jeff picked up John Doe. Together they walked off, talking loudly about fencing.
Woodwork is the new honeycomb.
From a distance the grumpy lard bubbled excitedly about the forthcoming explosion. Jeff and John Doe floated down the road, bellowing their plans to change the moon.
In Moscow there is nothing that is worth it.
Jeff decided that enough was said between him and his new Comrade and that action is needed if jelly is to be saved from setting.
John Doe also agreed with what Jeff was saying but in a way he was reluctant in the displaying of his already exposed inner outside.
In the pasture cows were churning and the salmon were flying with a speed worthy of the sun on a collision course with destiny.
More to the point a great ball of flaming ice was speeding towards the world we have come to know as Harry. Harry was weeping; she saw the end was near, nearer than the start anyway.
Jeff had a revelation. He changed his ways in aid of helping himself. He forgot anyone existed, except John Doe who was always there, and left everyone alone to deal with their own problems and to sort out my life.
Ice was coming and there was little time.
John Doe, in the meantime was a sceptical carcass who did not agree with what Jeff was doing and saying but he conformed and said nothing.
Jeff paid no attention to what John Doe wasn’t saying. It didn’t matter, John Doe minded not. Or did he?
Harry wasn’t looking, facing the sun when it happened she was. She never felt it. Just as well really. It stings, I should know.
Ice destroys, but not as much as despair. Despair killed Harry that night. Nothing else, the despair was enough to bring down the whole network but one thing saved the rest. But no, it was not John Doe, for he was shameful in his ways and had a self esteem worthy of suicide victims. Jeff was pure. Harsh but pure. He saved everything. It mattered not because for Harry, there was nothing.
After this had happened there was more. More for John Doe and for Jeff, and also for every other organism on the planet Harry.
You could call it an afterlife, but it could also be a beforelife or even an inbetweenlife, but for now I shall refer to it as an afterlife.
Nothing.
Time had no essence and essence had no time. It did not matter. There was no reason. No meaning. Nothing.
This did not stop Jeff, nor for that matter John Doe.
Jeff still cared for himself even if there was nothing. He did not need anything to be able to be selfish, to be self-involved, lonely, alone, blue.
John Doe, on the other hand, thrived on others. He had no inner self; he did not have a reason to have one. After all, there is nothing.
Clowns are scary. So are imps. But not as scary as the force that had now escaped into this afterlifeless nothing.
John Doe is one of those kind of people that decides he is not him but someone else but at the same time he is being himself as well because being someone else whilst being himself is who he is.
The only point in this story is nothing.
John Doe was once again alone, he was not allowed where Jeff was. There was nothing where Jeff was but there was nothing where John Doe was. This suited Jeff well because he was only himself but for John Doe, who relied on others, this was painful.
He had to think for himself. This suited him well eventually, because he realised who he was. He was no longer John Doe the man who never thought jus followed, he was John Doe, the man who was forced to be himself and was given time to think for himself. And he did.
All this was a bit pointless. Harry was dead, only nothing existed. It was too late to put any of this into practise.
John Doe, and Jeff, and the rest of “civilisation” were condemned to a “life” of nothing, pure, simple nothing. Alone.
A Mango. An Orange. A litter of Children. All the same. No difference. All the same. Even with the greatest change between things its all the same in the end. Everything ends up exactly the same. Not just ends up the same, but is the same. Animals all seem different, but are always the same. All the damn same. Who cares? It’s the same. Always.
Who am I? It doesn’t matter. Really. It doesn’t.
He loved to eat with his dear, old granny but sometimes they used to care.
Next day there was a storm that had no significance whatsoever. It lasted eighteen centuries.
Afterwards Margaret decided she had had enough, it was time to end her life. So at the next opportunity she upset a horse called Effer.
Effer was strange in the sense that he loved other horses. Each time he walked he just walked and walked.
Jeff tried on a nice dress that suited better to his landlord. His landlord was extremely lonely with just his friends to keep him company.
Jeff had a problem. He never believed that the point of being is to be. Being is here and being is also there but never here and there, but sometimes there and here but not quite there and nearly here.
My uncle works at a nunnery where God is ever present.
In the nunnery there was a carcass known to the nuns as John Doe. John Doe was very particular in his sense of taste. He liked to flavour his medicine with special spoons.
Jeff walked into a shop.
John Doe was out doing his yearly shopping for his mum when suddenly a Jew struck him down. Appeared from nowhere, Jeff swooped down to assist in the raping of Jeff’s selfish pride.
Stripped from all dignity, and everything he had worked for in the shed, John Doe stood up.
Jeff picked up John Doe. Together they walked off, talking loudly about fencing.
Woodwork is the new honeycomb.
From a distance the grumpy lard bubbled excitedly about the forthcoming explosion. Jeff and John Doe floated down the road, bellowing their plans to change the moon.
In Moscow there is nothing that is worth it.
Jeff decided that enough was said between him and his new Comrade and that action is needed if jelly is to be saved from setting.
John Doe also agreed with what Jeff was saying but in a way he was reluctant in the displaying of his already exposed inner outside.
In the pasture cows were churning and the salmon were flying with a speed worthy of the sun on a collision course with destiny.
More to the point a great ball of flaming ice was speeding towards the world we have come to know as Harry. Harry was weeping; she saw the end was near, nearer than the start anyway.
Jeff had a revelation. He changed his ways in aid of helping himself. He forgot anyone existed, except John Doe who was always there, and left everyone alone to deal with their own problems and to sort out my life.
Ice was coming and there was little time.
John Doe, in the meantime was a sceptical carcass who did not agree with what Jeff was doing and saying but he conformed and said nothing.
Jeff paid no attention to what John Doe wasn’t saying. It didn’t matter, John Doe minded not. Or did he?
Harry wasn’t looking, facing the sun when it happened she was. She never felt it. Just as well really. It stings, I should know.
Ice destroys, but not as much as despair. Despair killed Harry that night. Nothing else, the despair was enough to bring down the whole network but one thing saved the rest. But no, it was not John Doe, for he was shameful in his ways and had a self esteem worthy of suicide victims. Jeff was pure. Harsh but pure. He saved everything. It mattered not because for Harry, there was nothing.
After this had happened there was more. More for John Doe and for Jeff, and also for every other organism on the planet Harry.
You could call it an afterlife, but it could also be a beforelife or even an inbetweenlife, but for now I shall refer to it as an afterlife.
Nothing.
Time had no essence and essence had no time. It did not matter. There was no reason. No meaning. Nothing.
This did not stop Jeff, nor for that matter John Doe.
Jeff still cared for himself even if there was nothing. He did not need anything to be able to be selfish, to be self-involved, lonely, alone, blue.
John Doe, on the other hand, thrived on others. He had no inner self; he did not have a reason to have one. After all, there is nothing.
Clowns are scary. So are imps. But not as scary as the force that had now escaped into this afterlifeless nothing.
John Doe is one of those kind of people that decides he is not him but someone else but at the same time he is being himself as well because being someone else whilst being himself is who he is.
The only point in this story is nothing.
John Doe was once again alone, he was not allowed where Jeff was. There was nothing where Jeff was but there was nothing where John Doe was. This suited Jeff well because he was only himself but for John Doe, who relied on others, this was painful.
He had to think for himself. This suited him well eventually, because he realised who he was. He was no longer John Doe the man who never thought jus followed, he was John Doe, the man who was forced to be himself and was given time to think for himself. And he did.
All this was a bit pointless. Harry was dead, only nothing existed. It was too late to put any of this into practise.
John Doe, and Jeff, and the rest of “civilisation” were condemned to a “life” of nothing, pure, simple nothing. Alone.
A Mango. An Orange. A litter of Children. All the same. No difference. All the same. Even with the greatest change between things its all the same in the end. Everything ends up exactly the same. Not just ends up the same, but is the same. Animals all seem different, but are always the same. All the damn same. Who cares? It’s the same. Always.
Who am I? It doesn’t matter. Really. It doesn’t.
That was the most random and confusing piece I've ever read.
I'll come back to it later when my brain gets better!
I'll come back to it later when my brain gets better!
Wierd random adn brilliant.
Well done
*Claps*
Well done
*Claps*
Read the first two lines then gave up!
What a legend I am
What a legend I am
Jon Y The Sly wrote:
> Read the first two lines then gave up!
>
> What a legend I am
Your tiny brain cannot handle the concept of reading randomness, it has enough trouble coping with Eat, Sleep, Spam, Drink.
> Read the first two lines then gave up!
>
> What a legend I am
Your tiny brain cannot handle the concept of reading randomness, it has enough trouble coping with Eat, Sleep, Spam, Drink.
El Pinko wrote:
> Carrots make you see in the dark.
*
No one uses carrots anymore though. It's all night vision goggles and such.
> Carrots make you see in the dark.
*
No one uses carrots anymore though. It's all night vision goggles and such.
Not a bad random effort.
But it made just a little too much sense to me.
But it made just a little too much sense to me.
Rabbits contain riboflavin.
True story.
True story.
Rabbits?
God only knows where that came from.
God only knows where that came from.
Albino-Man wrote:
> El Pinko wrote:
> Carrots make you see in the dark.
>
> *
>
> No one uses carrots anymore though. It's all night vision goggles and
> such.
Whatever happened to the good old days huh? All this new fangled technology and the like making our lives much more simpler but much more complicated at the same time.
> El Pinko wrote:
> Carrots make you see in the dark.
>
> *
>
> No one uses carrots anymore though. It's all night vision goggles and
> such.
Whatever happened to the good old days huh? All this new fangled technology and the like making our lives much more simpler but much more complicated at the same time.
Page: