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The sky was dark with them. Birds. Dark birds, thay flew and they soared and the flew and they squwacked and chuirped. "Ive had it with these dog gone birds" I said, to no one in particular because my roommate, Matt, was of no consequence to me ever since he had written a scathing and untruthful review of my fantasy restaurant online on the fantasy restaurant wiki that i both curate and founded.
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Aug 6, 2014 02:49
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| # ? May 2, 2024 00:26 |
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dude what
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Aug 6, 2014 02:51
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Aug 6, 2014 02:53
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"This is untenable" I said, in conclusion. "What is?" He, Matt, asked me. "Shut up" I told him and then I stormed out of the room and into the hall, very nearly tripping over the pile of discarded laundry that we had placed there in an effort to delay the entry of burglars into our apartment and we supposed that it had worked because we had never been burgled. I reflected back on those halcyon days when we worked together, hand in hand, mano a mano, like brothers. Closer than brothers. But oh that time was over now, I continued to reflect as I stormed down the hall, barely glancing into the open rooms of our neighbors because all their doors were (reasonably so) closed. Our friendship had ended the day he decided to maul it upon the woeful alter of ill begotten comedy and satire. "This is untenable" I said in conclusion.
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Aug 6, 2014 02:53
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> plug laptop into wall > place hand on keyboard > begin pouring beer over hand and keyboard > pray for death
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Aug 6, 2014 02:54
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best op ive read in ages
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Aug 6, 2014 02:54
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I marched into the street in front of our apartment building that so recently had been full of bustling traffic and people who were also bustling but now was only full of birds and the contents of their recently voided bowels.
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Aug 6, 2014 02:55
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there's nothing more unstoppable than this story
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Aug 6, 2014 02:58
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935 posted:> plug laptop into wall that's not how suicide works, sry
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Aug 6, 2014 02:59
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"What is the deal with all these birds?" I asked, lilting my voice in the exact manner that the comedian Seinfeld was so well known for doing before he died tragically in a bird related incident, the details of which I am both unfamiliar with and uninterested in. Truthfully, my knowledge of Seinfeld begins and ends with my pitch-perfect impersonation of his signature phrase.
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Aug 6, 2014 03:02
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god is pouring out the first chalice of his wrath upon you.
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Aug 6, 2014 03:03
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a starwar betamax posted:"What is the deal with all these birds?" I asked, lilting my voice in the exact manner that the comedian Seinfeld was so well known for doing before he died tragically in a bird related incident, the details of which I am both unfamiliar with and uninterested in. lol
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Aug 6, 2014 03:04
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The birds swirled around the city like trash caught in a dust devil in that one animaniacs cartoon where the dust devil swirled the bit of trash around and they choked out the life-giving rays of the sun much in the same way that a very dense cloud of flying objects would blot out the sun's rays. Bits of excrement spattered the sidewalk around me and I tried to discern some pattern in them but I was unable even though I had scored very high in many online IQ tests and not just the easy ones that people posted on Facebook. "I just want to objectively measure my intellect, not find out which Pokemon I am." Is a status update I had posted a few weeks back. It garnered quite a few likes but not as many as I had hoped.
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Aug 6, 2014 03:08
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birds ripped my weasel
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Aug 6, 2014 03:09
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A bird landed in front of me. It had Matt's face. "The Sonic n' Pals Burger Bistro is a detestable blend of over-priced, poorly executed entrees, and a rude and unkempt staff. I was forced to wait, an utter prisoner of this culinary dungeon, for over an hour before my food arrived. The presentation, if you could call it that, left much to be desired, unless one desires their burger to be coated with what appeared to be exceptionally runny diarrhea" It chirped.
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Aug 6, 2014 03:13
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I know a chubby (but cute) purple-haired community college girl who occasionally hung out at the comic books store at my lakefront town. She seemed nice, but she hung around at the game store, which, eh, hit a little too close to home. I did some tech school. I did some real world jobs that I kept quiet from my 'online poo poo'. Know what I mean? Maybe you do? I don't care. A couple of years drifted by. We met at a party that neither of us expected to know the host of. I asked if she wanted to see the amazing extra features on the LOTR special edition, since she didn't have blu ray (for whatever reason). This lead to that, almost a month later of terrible, short text messages. Finally we google mapped (together, in retrospect one of our greatest achievements) the plot to my duplex. Together at last in my 'too old for roommates' duplex that I share with the white-headed 60 something neighbor who's convinced that Reagan had been re-born to lead mankind, I sank into the plush faux-leather couch that was her body-type.
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Aug 6, 2014 03:42
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"I'll kill you, you bird" I said to the bird with Matt's face, but to be honest I really said it more to Matt, the real Matt, not the face-of-Matt on the bird. The moment the words left my lips I regretted them, because deep down, Matt was my friend, but as soon as I regretted them, I changed my mind and I did not regret them. I meant those words with ever ounce of my being and soul and mind. I wanted to kill Matt. I hated Matt. I hated the way he lounged on the couch and read e-books on his Nook instead of watching Breaking Bad with me on my Kindle fire. I hated how he was disrespectful and unsupportive of my fantasy restaurant wiki. I hated how he left the milk out once. I hated how he would make jokes about Breaking Bad and said that he was glad Walter White was dead at the end of season 5 because at least that way they would never make another Breaking Bad episode I hated how he said Breaking Bad ripped off Weeds. I hated how he didn't like the spaghetti that I cooked on Fridays even though it is my mom's special recipe and she died of uterus cancer last year. I hated how he broke my external hard drive full of Breaking Bad fan art when he fell off of the chair he was standing on to hang my GI JOE posters and broke his leg on my external hard drive container.
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Aug 6, 2014 21:09
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I picked up the bird with Matt's face and I violently clamped my teeth onto its neck in an effort to bite its head off in one grotesque chomp, but ended up taking several minutes of chewing and gnawing to actually accomplish because it is a lot harder to bite a bird's head off that you would think.
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Aug 6, 2014 21:12
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the bird and the bird's head fell to the ground unceremoniously and also a great deal of the bird's blood also fell to the ground after it fell out of my feather-filled mouth. The feathers in my mouth were also covered in blood and some of them were stuck between my teeth but I didn't care, all I cared about was doing to the real Matt exactly what I had done to the bird that carried his visage. As I stormed away, back towards our apartment, I glanced back at the remains of the bird and was startled to see a smile slowly creeping onto bird-Matt's gore-coated face.
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Aug 6, 2014 21:15
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I immediately started running as quickly as I could, thankful that I had recently read a lifehacker article about how to run like the Tarahuma Indians of Mexico who run wearing only sandals they fashion out of tire treads and leather and they run for many many miles. I called upon my vast knowledge of their running technique and prowess and it was as if in that moment my Crocs animorphed into authentic Tarahuma running sandals, giving me the speed and agility that I needed to reach my apartment.
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Aug 6, 2014 21:20
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5
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Aug 6, 2014 21:37
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As I ran I stopped to catch a glimpse of myself in a passing window that I was passing I and saw my reflection in it.
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Aug 6, 2014 21:37
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Aug 6, 2014 21:38
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lol
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Aug 6, 2014 23:21
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Meanwhile in the apartment, Matt remained focused on the tiny samurai figurine he was painting, the final details coming into place. His recreation of the diorama from Ronin was a success, but, as he muttered to himself once again, "This roomate endeavor has ended in ruin. That hoopleheaded madman has taken leave of his senses and dragged me to hell with him!".
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Aug 6, 2014 23:34
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Murcor posted:Meanwhile in the apartment, Matt remained focused on the tiny samurai figurine he was painting, the final details coming into place. His recreation of the diorama from Ronin was a success, but, as he muttered to himself once again, "This roomate endeavor has ended in ruin. That hoopleheaded madman has taken leave of his senses and dragged me to hell with him!". I was instantly and strangely aware of Matt's thoughts and his actions. In much the same way that a Jedi master, such as Obi Won Kenobi, would be aware of the actions of his apprentice's thoughts and actions as they chased the assassin through the torturous streets of the planetcity Coruscant. I had a desire to thank whatever higher power had chosen to bestow these forcelike powers upon me but I refrained from doing so because I am a devout atheist\agnostic.
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Aug 7, 2014 00:20
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i did take a moment to wonder if Matt would turn into a force-ghost after I bit his head off and I sincerely hoped that he would not because if there was one thing I wanted less it was Matt muttering cryptic platitudes into my ear at inopportune moments such as the middle of the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie.
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Aug 7, 2014 00:23
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Big Beef City posted:I know a chubby (but cute) purple-haired community college girl who occasionally hung out at the comic books store at my lakefront town. I kinda like this story better, keep going please.
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Aug 7, 2014 00:27
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I find the story intriguing and the protagonist relatable and am eager to see where this story goes.
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Aug 7, 2014 02:37
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Isn't anybody here gay?
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Aug 7, 2014 02:45
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My apartment building stood before me, solemn and silent, alone on the block. Desolate, empty lots surrounded it like so many empty M&M packets after an afternoon in which you would eat a lot of M&Ms. The building looked like something that I would have spent countless hours meticulously building block by block in single-player Minecraft in that it looked exactly like an erect penis.
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Aug 7, 2014 02:50
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I want someone to narrate this but who sounds like ? Also 5.
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Aug 7, 2014 02:59
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I stood for several minutes at the doors of the elevator, repetadly pressing the button, which never lit and the elevator never opened or even made the ding noise that they make. With each button press I made sure to demonstrate my dissatisfaction with the situation by puffing out my cheeks and blowing air out of my nostrils in a muted snort. I would also occasionally add to the effect by shaking my head and rolling my eyes. If anyone had been around, which of course there wasn't, they would have surely nodded in agreement and perhaps given an empathetic shrug of the holders as if to say "We are in this together and I sympathize with your predicate but am unable to do anything to remedy it" We are all just lone wolves passing in the night.
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Aug 7, 2014 03:03
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Next to the elevator door stood a mannequin. It looked like the type of mannequin you might see in a N64 game featuring mannequins. It was devoid of any detail or external features, its skin the color and texture of a gray denim. It wore no clothes. I glanced downward at the genital area as I always do when confronted with a new mannequin and it had no genitalia except a tiny label where a penis might have been. The label read "Hecho en Mexico" which is Spanish for Made in Mexico. The mannequins hands were very different from the rest of the mannequin in that they were actual severed human hands that had been attached to the mannequin with some sort of tape that looked like gorilla tape and might have been. Fresh blood was pooled on the floor beneath them and was soaking into the arms of the mannequin. One the first three fingers of each hand was tattooed a letter, they read: D, I, G, D, U, G And a tattoo of a fygar was on the remaining finger of the right hand, and a tattoo of a Pooka was on the remaining finger of the left hand.
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Aug 7, 2014 03:17
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Aug 7, 2014 03:31
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good poo poo
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Aug 7, 2014 04:05
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Clutched in the still bleeding hands was a simple cardboard plaque which read: "The elevator's out" which I quickly snapped a photo of to send to apostropheabuse.com As I walked to the stairs I glanced down at my own hands, which now bore the same tattoo as the severed hands attached to the mannequin. "What could this all mean?" I asked myself in a hushed whisper and plunged my hands into the roomy pockets of my sweatpants.
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Aug 7, 2014 04:53
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this is kinda riley cool
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Aug 7, 2014 05:46
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Aug 7, 2014 15:54
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| # ? May 2, 2024 00:26 |
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Before I attempted the exhausting ascent by stairs to my apartment like some modern day urban sherpa, I realized I needed energy... fuel. For my body. It craved sustenance for the task before me. Sadly, in my haste to flee the room earlier, I had left my pitcher of Soylent in the minifridge, and I was unable to answer its viscous siren call. Like a man recently washed ashore a deserted island I began to tremble with the sudden realization of my predicament. And also from low blood sugar.
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Aug 7, 2014 16:07
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