user since
Tue Jul 11 2000 at 16:44:35 (23.4 years ago )
last seen
Wed Sep 10 2014 at 12:31:34 (9.2 years ago )
number of write-ups
110 - View humbabba's writeups (feed)
level / experience
7 (Chronicler) / 2995
C!s spent
mission drive within everything
To use my power for good instead of evil. Or for money.
Usually lacking the courage of my consistently monstrous convictions.
Some waterfront dive bar where old sailors go to die.
But...dude. Frogs. From the sky.
most recent writeup
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/me does not miss wharfinger. He was a dangerous thug we are all better off without.

Favorite Teddisms Generator invective: unrelenting fucktard.

"I'm born in Boston," he said. "I'm born in the Hub. I'm a bluenosed Yankee, fed on codfish and cranberries. My type of people are all dead. They broke the mold. I consider myself different from other men, on a higher plane, always been a boss, never wore overalls. Take the biggest man in the country and no matter what deeds he did, I did twice as much. I don't smoke and I don't hang out in none of them low-down Columbus Avenue saloons. I drink in the high-class places. Nothing but champagne wine and brandy, that's all I drink. High-class people invite me to their houses for dinner, just for the honor of it, send me home full of brandy. I'm very particular about my something to eat. When I got cash on hand I set a fine table, don't eat nothing but lobsters and fresh peaches and T-bone steaks. There's people that could live high on what I throw away. Used to take advantage of women, but somewhere along the line I lost my animal spirits. I can look a gangster in the eye and make him change his mind, but I can't do a thing with a woman no more. At one time I had nine big switch-tail women on my personal payroll and they stole from me, picked me clean. Buzzards! One of these days I'm going to pack my grip and go up to Boston and die. Won't even bother to get me a cemetery lot; I'll just find me a convenient gutter and lie down in it and die. Sad, sad! Made up my mind to die in Boston because I was born there. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Older I get the more disgusted I get. I'm yet to find a honest man, a honest woman. I don't even believe in good deeds; once I tried to help a man out of a well and I tumbled in and broke both legs. I believe in assassination, it makes elbow room. I believe in gassing off all the old people, except me. I'm too smart to gas. I'm a taxidermist. I can mount a mosquito. I can mount a strawberry. I can mount any old fish you ever see."--Captain Charley Cassell as quoted by Joseph Mitchell, but he may as well have been quoting me, it's so darn eerily close to my own story.

From the chatterbox:

wharfinger notes that humbabba is the finest poet of random violence he's seen here in a long time.

This was shortly before wharfinger ignited me.


<humbabba> EDB's a chump punk, I say. Pshaw.
Derfel ducks and covers.
EDB has swallowed humbabba. *B R A P *
<Derfel> He was so young! So full of promise! So tasty!


Fuck good. Fuck quality. I'm trying to start a goddamn revolution, and these lame fuckers are only getting in the way. TWAJS my ass.

"Revolution now! I want blood in the streets! I want hand grenades distributed to school children!"