500dth post by Dave!! its about beast feeding!

We are on the earth according to rules set forth by the living.  

Being here, now, we are in the need of some form of food. 

However we cannot fill own way, with the are hungry, but with The Evidence.  

We can see Him of our eyes to be a  sour imitation.

 Sooner or later Man is punished by Man, on provided on this website: the earth. 

When we see Him we will come to know a temple somewhere, somewhere where our God dwells and in their own way will find another shady kill. 

Another creature, and somewhere in Southeast, we chance or being against the Other. 

Does the hunt lead to something that will make God fuck the beast?
You may be left without legs. 

This is for whom the temple was built, now we are are fed.

They will praise the chimpanzees for he put their religious concerns above themselves. 

Asia(?), but those know that is not what is, why man is a person!

May he be troubled when hespat into his nostrils and spirit was born. 

"asian" jint

There is no structure to life. How will the epistemological - 

we will be talking white condor on the wall

Human beings are unstructured - the world of unstructured letters

serendipitous singular interaction is possible in unstructured nothing

DJ STRIPPER

troll: you remember when i had my appartment in ****, at one point I had these strippers living at my place?
husk: ... no?
troll: anyways, yeah, i had strippers living with me for a couple months
husk: lol go on

You have 1 new mmessage

How to make your penis strong for long timme?
We know: CLICK HEREMy accomplice, as i have committed no crime.' anxiously,
as a nervous uncle might look at a hide from either of the
mothers that the sight is quite different. And then dear
aime, after republicans from democrats, with a passage of.

WEEE-OHH

kevlar: it's the police
kevlar: every little thing she does is magic
kevlar: those are actually in the lyrics
husk: you're full of shit

Mang

When I go faster in my car, time goes faster. It's like I can't go fast enough, or, that I can't go slow enough because, when I do, the smoke signals from the other cars become unbearable in their volume and start to confirm all of the things that I thought about myself. Truth does in fact arrive like a big parade with huge balloons and clowns in tiny cars. Jack Raymond Jackson Senior walks into a room quietly and and always measures his words. He don't say much because he's hiding unacceptable attitudes under the rubric of "what is right". Jack, a white haired redneck prick who I loved as a second father, was impressed that I held my own in a fight with his son, Jack Raymond Jackson Junior, and the wigger from down the road, Mike Smith. They attacked me in Jack's front yard the day after they found out that my first girlfriend was a nigger. They called me "nigger lover" and Mike Smith cold cocked me with a harsh slap to my face from behind. Jack Junior tackled me and the gig was set. Mike Smith was no problem in a one on one. As Jack tried to wrestle me I turned around quickly and lit up the skinny fuck Smith jaw with a roundhouse left fueled by my turning body. He went down and I struggled with Jack junior. Jack was bigger but he was no athlete and the gentler of the two, he wasn't trying to hurt me. Smith was straight up mean and stained, driven by the rage of a shattered household, he was 13 and and he had run wild for years. He was a towhead with scars on his face and transparent skin. I was 12 and Jack was also 12. I knew that I needed to keep my focus on Mike Smith because after being decked by that first punch, he was going to get up meaner. So, as I wrestled with Jack, I kept my eye on that tattered little white fuck, Smith. When he came at me with his feet I grabbed one and twisted it as hard as I could...he fell down and kept kicking. I caught one kick in the face and my nose started to bleed. As Jack had me by the waist, I pulled Mike Smith close to me to get away from his feet, grabbed his arm and worked my way up. When he was in range I launched a fist straight up and into the underside of his jaw. I could hear his teeth snap together when I did that. Jack had me in a sort of a hug at the waist and I had a good grip on Mike Smith who was shaking off the last shot, i think i almost knocked him out. When he recovered he started squirming like a wild animal and I had difficulty controlling him. He got away and ran over to the driveway and grabbed a handful of gravel and came back over, started whipping rocks at me and my head. That scared me and I got away from Jack who was losing interest and was worried about getting hit with a rock...I got up and ran at Mike and tackled him and then beat the shit out of him while sitting on his chest. I had him pinned at the base of an old oak tree that had been struck by lightning. Jack had called me one morning after a big storm and told me about the tree and I yelled to my mom "Jack's tree got struck by lightning, I'm goin' over there!" I got on my bike and rode as fast as I could to see it. It was a beautiful summer morning and I didn't even stop at the wetland along the road to look at the tadpoles. They had crew cuts and I had wild, long, tangled blond hair. Jack R. Jackson Senior then came off the porch and pulled me off Mike and said to them.."You two let this city boy kick your asses..how do you feel now? He patted me on the back, put his hand on my head and said, "I didn't think you had it in you, boy, you won that fight. I thought you were gonna kill Mike otherwise I would have let it go" I WAS halfway to killing that little son of a bitch when Jack Senior pulled me off him. He had watched the whole thing from the porch. I saw him up there in the corner of my eyes and I was scared because I thought I'd get in trouble if I hurt his son. He didn't care, it was all about becoming men for him, he was checking his son for guts. I think he was also hoping Mike would get licked cause he didn't like Mike very much. I'm pretty sure Jack Jackson Senior voted for John McCain in the Presidential election. Jack Junior was my best friend, even after that fight. We fished together every day we could, mang.

reds on the bus, at my feet

If your spouse asks you whether you remembered to mail the tax forms and you say “Yes,” even though you know they're still sitting on the passenger seat of your car, you're telling a lie, which is a deliberately false statement. If you launch into a lengthy explanation of the day's frustrations and setbacks, the correct word would be prevaricate, which is to quibble, dodge the point, or confuse the issue so as to avoid telling the truth. If you tell your spouse that you would have mailed the taxes, but then you started thinking about an important deduction you might be entitled to take and decided it would be unwise to mail them without looking into it, you're rationalizing, which is to come up with reasons that put your own behavior in the most favorable possible light. If you say that there was an accident in front of the post office that prevented you from finding a parking space and there really wasn't, fabricate is the correct verb, meaning that you've invented a false story or excuse without the harsh connotations of lie. Equivocate implies saying one thing and meaning another; it usually suggests the use of words that have more than one meaning, or whose ambiguity may be misleading. For example, if your spouse says, “Did you take care of the taxes today?” you might equivocate by saying “Yes,” you took care of them—meaning that you finished completing the forms and sealing them in the envelope, but that you didn't actually get them to the post office.

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оно проползло бы в мои сновидения, как " hey свое раскрытое вверх по again" , часть всех вещей я потерял когда я был выселен из там