Now, now, enough is enough, my delightul pups: didn't I already say in
a recent message that Dad needs a rest? Talk about pushing the
envelope! Well, I just don't know what I'm going to do about you, for
you are all such delightful, silly little werewolf doggies, I could
never really hurt you, or exclude you from the pack...even when you
play those hilarious roles of "Queer Turncoat" or "Unknowing Puppet
for the Religious Reich" or "Righteous-Blue-Collar-Amerikan Bashing
Queer Welfare Recipients" or "Dumbshit Faggot Who Thinks Gay Rights
Happen Only In Bed".
I just need a breather here, please! I know you love to see me raise
my hackles of pride, but don't you think you're overdoing A Good
Thing? What if my hackles wear out, and they never raise again, when
the need is there? What if my Gay Pride finally peters out, never to
rise again (without some artificial stimulation like Viagra)?
Even love bites when numerous enough, cause one to faint dead away
from sheer exhaustion. I'm too weak now, to even give my cubs a little
swat to remind them who's boss around here. I can't take it any more.
Uncle!
---
I am Cerberus who guards the gates of hell,
protecting my gay pups from the wrath that
shall soon pour fourth from these gates.
I am Damien, The Werewolf.
---
http://surf.to/gaybible
--
This is message #377.
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Then take one. Don't expect to be permitted the last word -- conversations
don't work that way.
--
This is message #381.
Pray you never meet me on a pool table. I will whip your arse. Painfully.
;-)
--
This is message #394.
>LMFAO! People grabbing for your pride? I rather doubt it. More like
>running in fright from it.
The unholy freeze into stone, should they gaze upon Medusa's snake.
All others drop to their knees in adoration, drooling tongues and
wagging tails. "Beg, beg! That's a good little pup."
>Pray you never meet me on a pool table.
I have more important things to pray about.
Why don't I pray that I'll meat you on a pool table?
>I will whip your arse. Painfully.
Oh you tease.
---
I am Cerberus who guards the gates of hell,
protecting my gay pups from the wrath that
shall soon pour fourth from these gates.
I am Damien, The Werewolf.
---
http://surf.to/gaybible
--
This is message #413.
>At 04:06 PM 9/2/2001 -0700, you wrote:
>>I just need a breather here, please!
>
>Then take one.
I will perhaps, take a two-week break. But I'll be watching! So any
pup who thinks s/he can get away with any mischief...well just forget
that! I will be saving all messages, to peruse closely, once I return
from vacation. And believe me, I will leave no dog biscuit unturned.
>Don't expect to be permitted the last word -- conversations
>don't work that way.
Oh, I know when I'm outnumbered, Roger!
---
THE TALKING SHEEP
Once upon a time, there was a talking sheep...of sorts.
He'd only speak two words, the same two all the time.
And he'd only say them once he started humping a
stranger's leg: "My baaaaad. My baaaaad."
---
Lavender-Velvet&Wool Revolution
http://surf.to/gaybible
--
This is message #430.