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How many of you are eager to consume another life form? Let me ask you. How do we know plants are not a higher form of life that we cannot truly comprehend because of the stupids that we have in us? What then? Cows are fucking dumb. Get a grip.

Hi, I'm Dr. Peter Swilling. I used to imagine driving an Aston Martin. Sadly, that did not come to pass. My book, Fervent Dreams was not well received by critics or the reading public. I made very little off the sale of it. Very little indeed.

I would like to see more general outrage. Can anyone summon more general outrage for me? Thank you for your service.

How many of your kin would you say are really interested in raw human sexuality? Can I see a show of hands? Any chance of that? Show of hands?

I bet your mother doesn't know the names of all your friends, does she? Maybe there are some you are ashamed of. Maybe some of them are fatsos and your mom doesn't like fatsos. Maybe some are aerial killers. Maybe some just never came up in conversation. Maybe there were some for which there was no point of identifying this person in the narrative of your life for any goddamned reason whatsoever. I rest my case.

Golden pillows. The way of the lands-keeper. This comes up in future volumes. Almost Christ-like in nature. I swear.

And this is where Mildred usually gets her teats out. Poor Mildred. Coming down the road. Already. She's so on it.

There used to be a saying in my hometown growing up. "Cocks out before a fight, boys." And you took your cocks out. You showed those cocks to those outsiders. They needed to see what they were getting into. Cocks out before a fight. That was how men settled things.

It can be that way if we want it to be. It can be that way again. We just have to start RUBBING OUT the weak amongst us. They are WEAK and are meant to be preyed upon. PREY ON THE WEAK. DO IT NOW.

Commodity Fetishism and Dumpster Diving is a node here on this website. Imagine that.

I've talked to some of you QUITE A BIT privately. Quite a bit. It has shown improvement in mortal coil, no? You are more better now? You have had COFFEE with me on a sliding scale? You look stupid in those pants. Cocks out before a fight. Remember.

I NO LONGER HAVE a legitimate medical license and so I am practicing PSYCHIATRIC MEDICINE out of my home. Come by. $80 per hour. Sliding scale. We'll rap. You'll tell me intimate details. I'll tell people. You'll be totally fucked. Call me. If I spoke with you, trust that your friends and co-workers are GETTING CALLS FROM ME NOW. And you are SO FUCKED right now. Hilarious. See you at the next nodermeet. I know Friend Behr used to go into the woods to catch couples doing the nasty and he did them wrong. I know. I relish the memories. They are with me now. Oh, SO EMPOWERING.

I bet you would RELISH a sit-down chat with me. Over coffee. Absolutely relish it. You would. Call me. I sometimes advertise on buses. In lieu of larger issues, contact Bradley at the Home Office. He'll direct you to the appropriate forms. You will fill them out. You will fill them out PROMPTLY. There will be no taking of the forms home. They will be filled out IN OFFICE. This is understood in advance. Call me. Set up appointment.

What I offer is professional psychiatric care for you and your loved ones. That is what is offered. No "fish fries." That is some bullshit there. Go to some beach for that shit. Come to me for compassionate psychiatric care that is professionally rendered. Then we can talk about your orgasms.

One thing we agree on is preying on the weak. I think we can all agree there.

Moving forward. A lot of people used to be known as "hop heads." You don't hear that expression so much any longer. Not much at all. Nope. Not much at all.

Those were different times. Different times indeed. Different times.

Have you ever had a different time? Tell me about it. Over coffee. Call for an appointment. I charge by the hour. Professional psychiatric services. I need referrals. Working out of my home. Lost my medical license.

People used to have regular jobs. In GRUBBY shops and metal working factories. NO MORE. We have NO MORE OF THAT. We have shit. Shit is what we have. What the fuck happened. GRUBBY shop jobs. Doing shit with cardboard behind buildings. What happened to all that? Pisses me off. I want a job that involves doing shit with cardboard behind buildings in some capacity. Maybe not all fucking day long. Especially if it is very hot or very cold out. Like winter. Or summer. Right in the fucking sun. No way. Like to keep it real. You feel me? We need more jobs that involve doing shit behind buildings with cardboard for some portion of the day. There would be other work involved. Can Biden help with this? Has anyone called him?

Maybe you want to waddle around in your greasy underpants day and night wishing for a better day but let me tell you THAT DAY IS NOT TODAY.

Medically yours,

Dr. Peter Swilling

PS: You're gonna get burned running around with them eggheads. I promise you that. I promise you that right now. Cherry on top. Swear to you. Swear.

(Apologies to Tom Cochrane)

lifes like a mug you been sippin on
when one days full and next days gone
sometimes you good
sometimes you bad
sometimes you ugly nuff to make yomama sad

theresa world beyond vry halforcs door
where clues will lead you to their core
where thoughts are free and magi nations soar
but gtfo my map to the shore

we didnt have a cake
to breakdown the guarded gate
i ve regretted it to this day

life is a highway
no you cant come along
if you re going my way
its gonna hafta be another song

spread through these cities and all these towns
its on the news its all around
i love you now cuz i didnt know you then
what if nothing happens before the end

the tongueincheek queen and her band of knights
oer snoqualmie pass to magical lights
knock me down lock me up again
you re in my mind til who knows when

theres no body that i can hold
roads been tough i m sure you know
if i m not here when angels come in
tell em you re survivors

life is a highway
no you cant come along
if you re going my way
its gonna hafta be another song

giddy giddy giddy
giddy giddy yah

life is a highway
no you cant come along
if you re going my way
its gonna hafta be another song

there was a disease
between you and i
a miscommunication
but now dust got in my eye
booyeah

theres no body that i can hold
roads been tough i m sure you know
if i m not here when angels come in
tell em you re survivors

life is a highway
no you cant come along
if you re going my way
its gonna hafta be another song

giddy giddy giddy
giddy giddy yah

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