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Another post, it seems has invaded my blog. :P
You know when I make a post in my blog, it means that I've had this idea maybe weeks ago, only procrastinated so much to put it here NOW. And also the fact that it was a bit hard finding some resources. Yeah, you'd probably call that excuses. Anyway, here it is:
A long, long time ago in a blog not so many clicks away, Esther once put:
"He calls me.Excited,I run towards the sound of his voice,the bedroom.He catches me,and sweeps me off my feet.Gently,he lays me on the bed.I wait in excitement as he tells me to close my eyes.When I open my eyes,I purr delightedly to find a bowl of "friskees" in front of me!"
Notice the effect? I'll be damned if you can come up right to me and tell me you didn't think something else which was pretty suggestive by that short essay. But it's just our nature, whether it is just us overlooking things and seeing things for what they are really not. Something we take things as so subtle that we forget a lot about its literal translation, and soon find out that nothing else was intended EXCEPT the literal translation itself.
Why so? Because our minds are corrupt. Be proud of it. Lol. Here's another example:
"I want to rip open your tight blue shirt. I want to unwind you and lick your pure white cream. Enjoy, baby...
Enjoy....OREO"
P.S.: If you haven't ate OREOs before, you probably wouldn't understand at all. That makes you an idiot too. :P
Perhaps short sentences or essays like these are purposely meant to stimulate thoughts of the readers. Sure as hell ain't the right thoughts. I honestly don't really like to dub myself in stuffs like these, but today I'll make it an exception:
"You know that day I went to TGI Friday's. And when I went out of there after my dinner I could only say one thing: I like breasts. Soft, smooth, tender, succulent breasts.
Chicken breasts, of course. Served with cheese and sauteed vegetables."
I know it isn't much. But hey, it'll suffice for the moment.
In this post I'd like to invite a guest member :D. He shall help me to further get my point through.
Voila. This is Mick Foley. I'm sure none of you would know him. He's a pro-wrestler.
He used to be one of the hardcore legends in the WWE. U know hardcore, where anything goes and it's full of tables, ladders, chairs, bins, sledgehammers, pure blood, sweat and tears.
You can't help idolising him when you watch him in the ring, he can withstand almost any kind of punishment, no doubt he is the legend of Hardcore wrestling.
Okay, so where does he come into the picture?
This.
Oh yeah. His autobiography part two. Okay, alright. I used to have this book, probably bought it at a cheap fair sale where everything must go or they'll end up as toilet paper. Yeah...had it like 5 years ago. Anyway, now I can't find it..darn..
0.0 I think I might have...used it..in the toilet...
Darn, no wonder that last piece of tissue I used was very rough...who ever thought of using a 5 year tissue?!
Okay, so let me get to this part of his book, or whats left of it that escaped the toilet:
" I just recalled an interview I did several years ago that was deemed 'too graphic' even for ECW television. Because it never aired, this is a recollection that is being revealed for the first time. Keep in mind that this interview is being shot in extreme close-up fashion- with only my pained facial expression on the television screen of your imagination:
"You used to be mine, didn't you? Mine and mine alone.I could use you, and that was fine, because no one else could. Now when I lie awake, with you in my arms, I do so with the knowledge you've been held by other men. Used by them. Four or five in a single night. And I've had to watch it all, you cheap whore, and to pretend I like it when I see you go up and down, up and down, again and again, on their swollen throbbing heads. And you expect me not to care. When Tommy Dreamer spreads your legs and lowers himself on top of you for the whole dressing room to see? Well I do care, because I love you, and I always will, and I will always return to the one I love."
Now zoom the camera out to reveal me cradling a steel chair, which I will then passionately make out with until the camera in your mind fades out, you little pervert!
Not bad, huh? Maybe now that I've conquered the New York Times bestseller list, I will attempt that bastion of true creative writing - letters to the Penthouse."
Thanks Mick, now it's Marc again.
It's just the nature of minds that these happen. Lesson to learn: don't be too graphic guys. (and girls)
Such a grand finale for my post. I'm sorry this post took so long. This has indeed been a fun post.
Because...
In the end..
You Very Well Know What I Can Make You Think
Notice the effect? I'll be damned if you can come up right to me and tell me you didn't think something else which was pretty suggestive by that short essay. But it's just our nature, whether it is just us overlooking things and seeing things for what they are really not. Something we take things as so subtle that we forget a lot about its literal translation, and soon find out that nothing else was intended EXCEPT the literal translation itself.
Why so? Because our minds are corrupt. Be proud of it. Lol. Here's another example:
"I want to rip open your tight blue shirt. I want to unwind you and lick your pure white cream. Enjoy, baby...
Enjoy....OREO"
P.S.: If you haven't ate OREOs before, you probably wouldn't understand at all. That makes you an idiot too. :P
Perhaps short sentences or essays like these are purposely meant to stimulate thoughts of the readers. Sure as hell ain't the right thoughts. I honestly don't really like to dub myself in stuffs like these, but today I'll make it an exception:
"You know that day I went to TGI Friday's. And when I went out of there after my dinner I could only say one thing: I like breasts. Soft, smooth, tender, succulent breasts.
Chicken breasts, of course. Served with cheese and sauteed vegetables."
I know it isn't much. But hey, it'll suffice for the moment.
In this post I'd like to invite a guest member :D. He shall help me to further get my point through.
Voila. This is Mick Foley. I'm sure none of you would know him. He's a pro-wrestler.He used to be one of the hardcore legends in the WWE. U know hardcore, where anything goes and it's full of tables, ladders, chairs, bins, sledgehammers, pure blood, sweat and tears.
You can't help idolising him when you watch him in the ring, he can withstand almost any kind of punishment, no doubt he is the legend of Hardcore wrestling.
Okay, so where does he come into the picture?
This.
Oh yeah. His autobiography part two. Okay, alright. I used to have this book, probably bought it at a cheap fair sale where everything must go or they'll end up as toilet paper. Yeah...had it like 5 years ago. Anyway, now I can't find it..darn..
0.0 I think I might have...used it..in the toilet...
Darn, no wonder that last piece of tissue I used was very rough...who ever thought of using a 5 year tissue?!
Okay, so let me get to this part of his book, or whats left of it that escaped the toilet:
" I just recalled an interview I did several years ago that was deemed 'too graphic' even for ECW television. Because it never aired, this is a recollection that is being revealed for the first time. Keep in mind that this interview is being shot in extreme close-up fashion- with only my pained facial expression on the television screen of your imagination:
"You used to be mine, didn't you? Mine and mine alone.I could use you, and that was fine, because no one else could. Now when I lie awake, with you in my arms, I do so with the knowledge you've been held by other men. Used by them. Four or five in a single night. And I've had to watch it all, you cheap whore, and to pretend I like it when I see you go up and down, up and down, again and again, on their swollen throbbing heads. And you expect me not to care. When Tommy Dreamer spreads your legs and lowers himself on top of you for the whole dressing room to see? Well I do care, because I love you, and I always will, and I will always return to the one I love."
Now zoom the camera out to reveal me cradling a steel chair, which I will then passionately make out with until the camera in your mind fades out, you little pervert!
Not bad, huh? Maybe now that I've conquered the New York Times bestseller list, I will attempt that bastion of true creative writing - letters to the Penthouse."
Thanks Mick, now it's Marc again.
It's just the nature of minds that these happen. Lesson to learn: don't be too graphic guys. (and girls)
Such a grand finale for my post. I'm sorry this post took so long. This has indeed been a fun post.
Because...
In the end..
You Very Well Know What I Can Make You Think