Is there an original version of that drawing where you can see the dude's wiener?

>>7530224
how long should it be? also roll

>>7530232
There once was a man from Nantucket,

But really I just want to see the guy's wiener.

rolls

>>7530224
rolling

>>7530399
roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof vroof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof roof woof woof woof woof roof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof bark bark bark bark bark bark woof woof

8 get

>>7530224
rollin

Rolling.

>>7530224
ROLL

>>7531477
dear mom,

i am sending this letter to you by way of slipping it under the door to johnny whom i promised to let play my xbox later today. i trust he gave it to you unopened - the seal should remain unbroken. if you can sign the enclosed receipt and return it to me to verify such, i would appreciate it as a professional courtesy. please do not misunderstand this letter, i am still extremely upset about the way you spoke to me this morning at breakfast. your rude words violated my conception of "safe space" which i have detailed at length in prior communications. eating my cereal with a cupped hand is natural and efficient. in fact, i was, in part, thinking of the work i could potentially save you by forgoing all cutlery in the future. however my motives have much deeper and more philosophical roots that cut to the core of what it means to be a family. enclosed is a book list that i think will help you better understand my position going forward w/r/t cupped-hand consumption of cereal.

i am also getting hungry. please deliver enough sandwiches to last me for at least till tomorrow morning when i feel my anger will probably have subsided enough to come out. you can leave them outside my door by 4pm.

regards,
tim

I'm all written out from the last one of these, but I'll try again just because nobody else is actually writing.

File: 1440799747967.png (366 KB, 599x399) Image search: [Google]

366 KB, 599x399

>>7531517
yeah OPs need to remember to switch up the prompts when they make new threads

>>7531517

Dear Uncle Al,

We've never met, but I've heard a lot of great things about you. Recently I've tried reading some of your books. They're a real struggle and I have trouble making sense of them! I know that some degree of opacity is necessary in writing of this sort, but it's hard for me, perhaps because of my issues. It's easy to understand something like Stoicism, and to the extent Jung is a mystic he's very accessible, so I don't understand why you have to make things so difficult.

Speaking of my issues, I don't know if you've been aware of them but they've been one of the major reasons I finally decided to try and learn from you. It is strange to me the way that ill health can contribute to spiritual and personal development. Since my issues began I've felt myself capable of understanding and even simply seeing more of the world than I had previously. This was corroborated by the reactions of teacher and student alike in my humanities class. I sometimes wonder if I should stop taking medication for them, but I'm told that they may become fully permanent if I do so, and the cold sweats and delusions are rather disruptive.

What do you think? I'd love to hear back from you, though I understand you're quite preoccupied currently. If you did send me a letter it would be quite extraordinary though, and I would treat it and the advice it contained with the highest degree of respect. Is my psychosis just a disease, or is it a spiritual awakening which I haven't guided properly yet?

I don't know your current address, so I am mailing this letter in a very unorthodox way. I hope it reaches you.

Regards,
Jess

>>7530224
Roll to see.

Rolling again

Fine...

>>7530224
Rolling

>>7531546
fuck this, reroll

>>7531534
I like this. I would read a short book of only correspondence between Jess and Uncle Al.

>>7531541

The dragon Nachtschwinge surveyed the men with contempt. They were in sorry shape, covered with animal skins and tattered rags, not even fit for food with their too lean, gaunt bodies. Still, it was only men who could work the mines that produced gold and gems, their diminutive size allowing them to dig deeply into the mountain and flutter about its insides. It was necessary.

"Men of the vale," the dragon bellowed, and was surprised when none flinched, "you have come to me bearing a blood contract in exchange for assistance in your...quarrel. I have seen your ancestors work the mines, and so I know it is your inheritance to give. Yet the creatures I see before me are not fit for war! How can I expect you to honor your contract if I can't expect you to survive the coming siege?"

A man with a wolf skin draped over him stepped forward. He had coarse black hair and was heavily bearded. "I am Alex, son of Ajax, rightful heir to the three kingdoms. Most glorious Nachtshwinge, you are right to note that we exist in disarray. But it is precisely this disarray which gives us our strength! We have been trodden upon by the filthy usurper and his men; we have had our lands stolen from us, our families, our trades; but we still stand! And the reason we stand is because we have dignity, the dignity of the damned! With everything else taken from us, our resolve is our only remaining property. In form we may be disheveled, but in spirit we are the iron that has been struck! Battles are not won by form and number alone, but by spirit and conviction. The usurper's evil has not destroyed us, but in fact forged us into the weapons of his own demise. Oh mighty wyrm, fight with us and you will have more than gold and gems, but glory for the ages as well!"

"I care not for your glory, insolent ape. Yet your speech has the ring of truth to it... the notion of a difference between inner and outer strength is alien to me as a dragon, it is only natural that I failed to account for it. I will thus defer to your expertise in the matters of men."

"Most glorious Nachtshwinge, we thank you for your benevolence," Alex said with barely concealed relief, and with that, he retired to his tent to begin preparations.

>>7530224
Testing

>>7531549

and yet it was just another day yet consisting of having a ten kilometer trip from hometown to my new apartment, fortunately there was only one casualty, it was however a small purple vase with matyushka design bought by grandfather during his trip to russia a few decades ago, however mother insisted to bring two out of the the whole box he bought so i figured it would be fine as an homesake, so the other one breaking wouldn't hurt as long as i keep the last one from breaking during the next few weeks...

during my unpacking however i did managed to meet one of the neighborhood kids Mary and Nelly and my backside and face still hurts because of those two sending me headfirst into the bathub, then i met my next door neighbor Ms. Farens i could describe her as a drunk because of her earlier behaviour, then there's Asmodeous Michaels occupying the room in front of mine and Ms. Farens ,being a smartass or the sort;lieautenant McBilly an old veteran occupying room 407 which
is just a few units away from mr. Michaels, an old soldier living alone and still somehow managed to do so then there's also Mr. Dinklestein, my landlord, who lives in the floor above me and a very honest man, he was rather quite generous on insisting that i have dinner with his family as celebration for my moving to the apartment and discussed my new neighbors which i'll be living for now on, he didn't tell me about everyone else and only discussed some of the tenants that I've met, and he said for now on my say here will be very intresting. it's already past midnight and seems to for me to get to bed, i'll finish my unpacking tomorrow and i might get a chance of meeting my new neighbors.

Ok

>>7531870
On the brink of the oh-so-edgy cafeteria, set all aflame by streaks of neon, you are not alone in feeling the grit and the groove that moves with the raindrops and exhaust gases. Make it your way across, to whom you met, and it is only a few words of this and that that culminates in a slightly different view; trash cans of multitude of waste giving plethora of decay. Only to be trod through, for in the waste lies something.....?

>>7531909

I couldn't think fast enough to write out a longer argument, so it wound up being kind of dumb, sorry :<

>>7531580
nice, but i didn't buy the shit that wolf skin man said and i doubt that old Nactschwinge would fall for it either

rawhide

>>7531903
Captain James Bryce was quite conspicuous in the crowd, standing a solid foot higher than every man. Not what you'd want as a hunted pirate, and normally Bryce would never have left his quarters, but after the mishaps at ports La Mariposa and Kings Cove, he left nothing to his incompetent crew.
His stolen galleon, the Sable, cast the shadow under which he walked, and he was grateful for any respite from the harsh sun. Bryce stroked his beard under the sign for this port's fish market. The deafening sound of locals haggling made concentration near impossible. Standing by the entrance while getting his bearings was abandoned after the seventh old woman shoved past him with a cart loaded with smelly fish.
Bryce's boots clicked on the soft stone flooring of the harbourmaster's office. He paid the docking fee in dubiously legal gold coin, registered his ship "the Santa Cruz" for two nights, and headed towards the familiar comfort of a seedy tavern tucked away at the edge of every port.
Yeah I know I'm shit I'm new to writing really no hate pls.

>>7530224

rollin

>>7531930
The day was a muggy mess, but Kurtz was sweating from more than just the heat and it was about to get hotter. He sat in the driver seat of his Chevrolet with the door kicked open, stopped in a dirt turn out off the freeway. Cars lined up for miles in both directions, inching forward. Goddamn traffic.

Kurtz tossed his cigarette to the side as a Cadillac pulled up beside him. A slick haired character with a face too small for his head at the wheel next to a woman who looked like trouble. Some men thought a face like that was worth all the trouble, but Kurtz wasn't willing to eat somebody's shit just to see where it came from.

As the couple exited their car, Kurtz pulled his pack and slid another cigarette into his mouth. As a greeting he offered the pack. The woman, Marlene, took one, but Ol' Slick played it cool and got right down to business. "Where's the case?"

Kurtz lit Marlene's cigarette and said, "In the trunk." He fished into his pocket, pulling out a solitary key and tossing it over. As Slick walked to the back of the car Kurtz nodded at Marlene. "You aren't gonna help to verify the goods? Make sure I'm an honest abe?"

Marlene stared daggers, taking a deep drag before walking back to the trunk. Slick fiddled with the key a moment as Kurtz walked over to the driver's side of the Cadillac and crouched down. The trunk popped and a brutal explosion rocked the air. A minute or so later, Kurtz pulled the Cadillac into traffic, just another fish heading upstream.

no one is reading the others :|

>>7533187

Scarletta,

I must be brief, I have very little time alone here. My cell mate is a confidant of the Scottish Bones, he is not to be trusted.
You are not safe in Brandon, nor in all of Manitoba for that matter. There is a very real threat on all of the Shield from a conglomerate of monkey-traders and waterboys with an eye on what's left of the lakes. If you can make your way to the SaskTel border, my name should be enough to get you through to Regina. I can't promise you passage any further, but I hear there are caravans travelling through to the Pacific, to Port Moody. Refrain from telling them of your Italian roots.
My dear, I do not tell you this because I love you.
This, you must know. I have never loved you, Scarletta.
We began our affair in the throws of the first Dread Project, I was certain my death was just a month, perhaps two, from when we first met. You were unaware of this impending crisis, but this was just as well for me. I must confess, I wished only for your physical company and the nights of refuge you gave me from the chill of the New York Herald Tribune staff sleeping quarters. It was during these nights, post-coital sprawl across your mattress, silent cigarettes shared in soft light from the streets below, that I plotted those first few missions for the Bloodletters. I traced lines along your back in the shape of tunnel routes -- you must remember when I finally told you who I was. All before then, you had been my muse of sorts, but I did not love you.
I had developed a mild affection for your innocence. The way you cast aside your coat, dress and hopped up on the bed while Rubio issued the second Surveillance Decree on CNN. The ease with which you fell asleep, without a drop to drink. You were perhaps the happiest military intelligence clerk in all of New York City, dozing in my arms while half the world burned.
It is this affection that urges me to write you. Do not lose hope, Scarletta. The world will awake from its nightmare and need someone like you. Someone who can still hope.
I have written too much already, I must end it here.
Stay safe, Scarletta.

John Tyrentia Alonzo Cena
BGen, Assyrian Resistance Army

>>7530224
Roll, will start at 9 when I get home.

>>7533506
I'm watching you like I always do, waiting and wide open to everything that you are, edifying an idol. And you will never notice, but by now that's not the point.

I'm following you like I sometimes do, making sure you don't see me, that I have a good excuse for being where I am. Everything is about excuses when it comes to me, because I can never tell you the truth.

We're talking like we rarely do and my heart is finally running. Test myself and prove that I am worthy of something, but what a sick way to live. I want to be honest but know you won't like me. And really if you asked me to be honest would that not be in your benefit? But I'm only being dishonest in your benefit. I'm playing a game that's impossible to win.

I'm waiting for you like I always will. I want this love to be forever. It's hurt me more than everything. You do not need me; it's not about needs. Needs would soil this feeling. Think Gestalt, whole being greater than its parts. If only there was a Devil or God so I could sell my soul for you. If only we were in an action movie and your love depended on the size of my phallic prowess and you were a pretty princess and I knight. But I refuse; those are nothing but lies. Am I then not being a hypocrite?

You've made me lonely and sad like you do. You don't even know I'm suffering and I don't want you to. You knowing won't help me at all. Yet every time I talk to you, something sad comes out of my mouth; and you do help me. No, I don't want that, I should be good. I know I should be good enough to be with you, but then I will never be with you.

I am beginning to hate thinking of you. Why oh why? I used to adore you, but the more I go on the more it hurts. I wanted this to be beautiful, and I mean my feelings. But now not even that can be spared. Even my soul is in ruins and I can't stop I cannot let go.

And on the nights or days when I do remember who I am doing for, I cannot regret anything. It was never about you, Love. It was always just me. So that this person can finally come to an end. So that this existence can once again be denied. And then I will be stronger than ever. Then, once there's no room for possessiveness or desperation, then once I die I will be whole and I will be the world and I will choose you. You will be mine with every part of being even if I never touched you, even if I never even saw you again.

>>7533624
Even a fool may appear wise if he keeps his mouth shut.

>>7533586
I checked if Rebecca responded to the text I sent her earlier about getting dinner at The Playground later tonight. She didn't. It was 7pm, she updated her snap story twice since I sent the message, but she didn't respond.

I went to the restroom and browsed the blonde section of xvideos on my phone. I spent the next hour looking for a Rebecca look-a-like before finally settling on a dubious first-time anal video with an unnamed Russian actress. It's difficult to find pornstars that look like women I love because the popular pornstars are all conventionally attractive, plain. I choose to seek out women with quirks; uneven eyes, misshapen cheeks, sharp eyebrows. Unfortunately, the women I love always have more conventional tastes and tend to reject me. I finish in two minutes, then cry.

I always feel guilty when I masturbate. I think we all do, to some extent, as if our brains all want to remind us that masturbation is a waste of time that could be better spent on other pursuits. Unfortunately, for me, there is no alternative. I bookmark the video's URL and post, "Who is this?" in the comment section. The URL is in good company.

Let's roll

>>7533653
Yarr harr just me and me maties plundering each other's booties on THE HIGH SEA coming this spring in THREE D3E.

>>7533644
v. alt
would read more

>>7530406
i imagined the dog driving in a car to a new neighborhood, counting all the roofs he saw along the way

>>7531513
fun. i read it first as a literal forging of cutlery (as in with metal)

>>7531534
here's hoping uncle al is a drunk and writes accordingly

>>7531580
>>7531915
agreed

>>7531887
>the grit and the groove that move
that was cool. would read while on stimulants.

>>7531966
keep on writing!

>>7531998
ol' slick played it cool, he did

>>7533593
iktf

>>7533662
i DEFINITELY ktf

>>7533644
Also would read more, but wouldn't be proud of it

Roll
>>7531998
I like it. Now I wanna know who the good guy is.

>>7533814
Fuck I'm shit at philosophy re-roll.

shoudl be funddnf

>>7530224
aight ill do another ROLLLL

>>7533865
Edgar cupped his snifter like the firm titty of a fresh high school whore. He inhaled deeply from the glass, breathing in the aroma. His inhalation was not that of a connoisseur but of a lover, lasting several seconds longer, his nose fondling each hidden note. A perfect smoky dryness, with hints of mulberry and seawind. It was pussy wine of the finest vintage and it smelled like it.

Gazing around his warehouse, he took stock of the hundreds of barrels, each of them with a naked woman straddling the top like a wonderful Dionysian rodeo. Hanging from the ceiling, tubes ran directly to the mouths and throats of the women, a constant stream of wine percolating through their guts. Their eyes were blank and their jaws slacked, but they had come willingly. This was no den of slaves. For a few years service in his pussy winery, Edgar paid them well and looked after their children if they had any, and most did. In any case, Edgar reflected, most of these dirty bitches would be in the gutter drinking wine anyway if they weren’t here.

He downed the remaining pussy wine with a swift motion and threw the glass on the floor, shattering it. It was a busy day – on to the ass penny factory!

roll, I need the practice!

>>7533922
:O / :)

>>7533820

Whoops I thought I posted this a while ago.

More rain, that's just peachy, Turnbull thought. He'd thrown the match for a few extra bucks, a few extra bucks that might help cover rent for the month. He searched for cigarettes in his pockets, but wasn't real surprised when he found didn't have any left.

A cab pulled up to the soaked fighter. Just before Turnbull could open the door, he felt a hand on his back.

He clenched his fist as he jerked his head back to check who's hand it was, sure it was someone coming to collect. Turnbull was more than pleasantly surprised to see that the hand belonged to not one of Joe Contelli's goons, but a striking woman.

Turnbull eyed her as she spoke, noting all of her peculiarities as well as beauty. "Excuse me, sir, are you Charlie Turnbull?"

"Uh, yeah, ma'am, can I help you?"

"No, sir, I'm just a fan," the mystery woman said, moving in to him. She began feeling up and down his strong arm, pronouncing each syllable with a measured rhythm. "But I think you can help me."

Turnbull didn't have many fans, and he knew this. He'd been throwing lots of matches lately, which didn't lead to a lot of fans. The money was guaranteed and the adoration of strangers wasn't why he was in the boxing game. However, if a knockout like this was a fan, he wouldn't argue.

In the cab, the mysterious lady moved in even closer than before to Turnbull. This is my lucky night, he thought as he began to kiss her. Minutes later, her arm moved down to her handbag, and began to pull out a something chrome and shiny. Turnbull noticed the gleam of the object in the light of the passing street lamps.

It was a snub nosed revolver or a knife, and she was hired to kill him, Turnbull knew it. His luck would never be good enought to get a woman like this. Before she could pull it out further, he shoved her to the other side of the seat bench.

As she was stunned, he launched towards her, arms outstretched. As his massive hands wrapped around her throat, he spoke through his teeth. "You can knock that innocently scared look off your mug, I know you're working for Contelli." He wanted to say more but he wasn't good with words, so that was the end of it. By now the cabbie was screaming at Turnbull, and by the time he had pulled him off the girl, it was too late, the life had been squeezed out of her.

Turnbull knocked the driver down and jumped back in the cab. He grabbed for the weapon in the bag, but couldn't find it. Only a small wallet, a bottle of perfume, a pack of cigarettes, and a folded up poster advertising one of his own fights, with a chrome pen that shined in the city lights clipped onto it.

holy fuck I spilt tea on my fucking laptop and lost my images fuck

yeah because I rolled a 7

Dear you fucking faggot

Oh but you great liars -

you who paint with red others who stand with white or black; brown grey or blue it is not for you for you are not at the scene nor at its end but the spokesperson and the town crier and the kings diaper skivvy to poison nappies and blend your shame in your strength and your fear and loathing into the trembling of your might and claim that you are not frightened by fright and you espouse death and claim sanctity in the corner of a world without a hand for others hurled and this sanctity is our own and this is our sole reason and it is known but never...

Immoral ignorance - the highest of virtues.
And the suffering of those who can but cannot?
‘tis beyond both their means and ours;
this the cause of your cause like the
atheist who prays to Mars.

Send us to the scrapheap and
sewage and the lot and the sanctity
of sanctity drop for the sanctity
of not.

The last of the boxes were inside and Emily was staring emptily into the endless past. Jack was pondering whether he'd make any new friends, while the sounds of the truck's exaust faded against a backdrop of searing pain. Why'd we do it? Why couldn't we stay? Leon was wondering, watching for change in circumstance perhaps, and I was sitting against the ancient staircase, trying to resist another smoke. The dandilions outside breathed and basked in the coolness of March, while my own memories of what happened suffocated and writhed into deathward reality. Another new suburb made it five houses in four years. And the last one was the worst yet. The murky prism of Emily's mind clanked as a coin in a tin can, and she spun around with ferocity and fire.
"I'll kill the next one, and then little Leon can have his share!" The shade beneath the little firebug's eyes exasperated her lack of innocence. A racoon on a moonless night.
"But wouldn't that put Jack on top?" I say with a just a hint of resentment.
The boy was still in his own little world. Both of them were. The moulded curtains were gentle in dance but sickened in unwashed haze. I pulled them open and silently moved my timeworn head towards the sky. The sun broke down, in vanishing streams of forgotten glory, lifting me to the lost light eternal. Emily seemed to smirk with sinister intent, while my thoughts turned to Dad and the curse he left behind. Are you up there now old man?
"Who care's who gets number one? We only need to get our fair share of kills to end it."
She was enjoying this. I was so sure now. Jesus.
"Leah. When will I return to school?" The poor kid was fucking deprived. His eyes never left the doorhandle far across the musky room, their deserved prison. But his fingers, his fucking fingers, caked in copper plasma, that never stopped playing that invisible piano, to an audience of moaning souls, asleep to time but outside of God's great firmament. What have I done? And his brother, well. Leon just did not speak no more. What more could be said? The numbers have to be taken, to stop the chime...What more could be done?
"One day you'll be back," I go, so unsure of how inauthentic I sounded. My voice cracked against all faded thought. I hope it's worth it, old man. Emily seemed to catch on, preying like leopard against gazelle, ready to take the throat in hunger.
"Oh you won't ever go back!" Gleefully she turned, eyes versed in demonology, "none of us will ever return to normality!"
The horror of her statement reverberated through each of us, Jack whimpered, Leon stared further deathward and I just clenched my teeth at the hollow hell surrounding.
There was a knock at the backdoor, a slow beat of a funeral requiem. Yama had returned.

>>7534181
Rolled a 9 btw

>>7530224
rolling

Rolling again because what I wrote in the last roll sucked.

>>7534761
–Come, –he said– I'll show the city to you.

–Over there you can see the grand ziggurat, risen by yours truly.

–Is it still in use? –I asked.

–Occasionally.

–And for what gods?

–Only the one's that've been forgotten.

–And there, you've the walls, also erected by yours truly.

–Have they rejected armies? –I asked.

–Many.

–And now?

–Now there are no more armies.

–There, he said, is the palace, full of greenery.

–But it's all dried. –I observed.

–Of course, it's no-one to tend it.

–Why must things die, King? –my voice cracked.

–For the same reason they are born.

–Then we have only started things to see them end? How pointless!

–Yes. Reason tells us that it'd be easier to not be at all.

–But see, often things remain. Not forever, but far longer that they would seem.

–And ease is not all we seek.

–Right now, I am neither alive nor dead. That I have erected these ruins, was it worth it? Even after my death, and after in life it made me lose what I found most precious, and no one sings my songs anymore, I have managed to meet you.

–If you desire victory, know that you will only have it by fighting. If you desire life, know that you will only have it through death. So be wise and make your gambles small, amass small fights and small deaths, and you will have a great victories and a great life.

>>7530224

roll