It's time for a mass poll on sexual preference!

No, I'm not talking about gays or straights or necrophiliacs or penguin-fetishes, I'm talking about something way more awesome.

Before I continue, I want you all to listen to this song, the whole way through:

Breakfast Machine.

Listened? Good.

Now, listen to it again, only this time imagine having sex while it's playing.


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If at any point you laughed at that image, and were not at all disgusted or turned away by the idea, and would actually like to try having sex while that song is playing, then you are in the Breakfast Machine Club.

disclaimer: I will only do girls in the Breakfast Machine Club.

AND NO LIARS

Unknown Sparkling - 16 years, 1 month, 12 days ago

Ten baby butter bumpkins drowning in a lake.
Then a naked Asian munchkin fucks a chocolate cake.
Unknown Sparkling - 16 years, 7 months, 29 days ago

All vaginas are actually portals to an Evil Vagina Dimension, where trillions and trillions of people are held captive. The energies of the Vagina Dimension keep these people shrunken, because it steals your life-force and makes you into a drunken retarded midget.

When the walls of the Evil Vagina Dimension are weakened, these drunken retarded midgets, through various acts of desperation, force their way out and into our world, where they very slowly regain their normal stature and intelligence.

Then, because they are still scarred by the traumatic experience of the Vagina Dimension, approximately 49% of them will spend the rest of their lives tracking down and repeatedly attacking any and all vaginas they can find. Some will do so even if not properly equipped, and only a very few who are properly equipped manage to get over their emotional scarring completely.

These attacks help to cause the weak spots in the dimensional wall, as mentioned previously, allowing more people to force their way out and find freedom at last.

Now, here's how I know the Vagina Dimension is Evil:

More and more people are popping out of it every day; proof that this world must be a better place than the Evil Vagina Dimension.

When those whom are properly equipped attack a vagina, they come out of the experience drained and fatigued, and are usually unable to repeat the process for a while, thus proving that even small forays into the Evil Vagina Dimension drain your life-force.

SO, to all you who are considering pounding vaginas, or already have pounded some: RETHINK YOUR ACTIONS! Yes, I KNOW that there's trillions of people yet to be freed from that dimension, but the horrors of war are NEVER to be sought out! Not only will your life-force be drained with each foray into the Evil Vagina Dimension (thus shortening your lifespan), but the cosmic extra-dimensional energies rip apart the fabric of space-time on your penis (or whatever implement you may be using), and can cause warts to grow, strange insect-like creatures to infest your nether regions, or all manner of vile and indescribable diseases to infect you once-pure body. At best, you get this weird yucky goo all over whateveritis that you stuck in there. Gross.

SO STOP POUNDING VAGINAS

YOU WILL BE BETTER OFF

Be like me, and OVERCOME your hate, your fear! The Evil Vagina Dimension is in the past, you're freeeeee!



-A public Service Announcement from Vagina-pounders Anonymous
Unknown Sparkling - 16 years, 8 months, 19 days ago

Wading and skating through muck gunk and brine,
Avoiding and hating that cesspool of slime,
While puzzling over that vortex of grime I happened across a bauble that shines.

Its shape ever mutable,
Its color inscrutable,
Its texture a melange of perfume turned palpable,
The bauble of mine, so entrancing and fine, responds to my touch with a soft-whispered sigh.

That sound so addictive, I entreat it for more,
With caresses and whispers that seek and explore,
And the bauble, it listens, it draws from its core,
And lets loose with a moan that excites every pore.

As the bauble and I learn from each other,
The chaos of gunk seems less able to smother,
I look down at the ichor, and see it's grown farther, as the bauble and I begin to soar

Above and beyond the turmoil and terror,
The bauble inherits an absolute glamour
And its argent creation brings to my eyes a world aggrandized and distended with abstractions half conceptualized.

And the bauble, it grows, feeds on my affection,
An essence of mine I'm quite willing to give,
And as this symbiote needs benefaction,
So too, do I need its light to live.

But now, what's this? Have I heard its last sigh?
Its innards are murky, its light seems to die.
The surface, it's slippery, has it all been a lie?
As I ponder and worry I implore it for more, caress it and kiss it and all such amour,
I rip from myself my flesh and my mind, and into its center my soul I do pour,
And despite all this effort and suff'ring now poor,
Unresponsive, the bauble, now without its glamour.

Curse it! It's useless, it had me enthralled!
Why toy with me so? Why save me at all?
And now with this anger, this passion of disillusion I realize how fragile the bauble had been
So I glare and I stare, almost willing to dare to tighten my grip and crush the betrayer!
And though I'm aware that I'll fall if it shatters I'm perfectly willing to suffer the grime,
To delve back in to the muck gunk and brine,
Brooding and looting that cesspool of slime.

That light! So bright! Where is it from?
The bauble! It flashed, it might not be done!
Right there! That glimmer, the blink of an eye,
And a soft-spoken whisper, that might be a sigh.
So small, those tokens, but I bring them nearer,
And clutch to my heart the bauble with fear,
For I'm afraid it might slip, my heart waxing dreary,
But for that small favor, I'd gladly grow weary.
Unknown Sparkling - 16 years, 9 months, 24 days ago

A multitude of magnificent montages multiply my mangy mangled mask, not quite so vociferous on my anus. There was once a time when I never had to potato my orange, spelling like a noob! I wish I could find a new body, but the photons of glorious obstruction have no foul, play! Comma usage of yellow buttery bumpy bumbkin pumpkins, ring around the rosy posy movie slicer. ACK, I HAVE NO FACE. Time to go, rodeo! New-age crystal worship isn't exactly the most black of moo! I'm a cow. My math teacher is bald. Short sentences. I can't see my eyes! I'm like a repetitive mouse, egocentric and not without my hooded panties. A wham-bam-boozle, alpha-fuck'd some kind of of refrigeration device, my ammonia rabbit doesn't have a name besides Penis. I need a flame, a FLAME! GIMME GIMME oh slow slouching sloth of salient smoothness, sexy and sultry, slightly spotted. Emoticon, roboticon, fuck-my-lawn. Absolutist ethics of the principality of Munich flows most altruistically, not munificently, but with references most ham-handed, lonesome munching on my foot (sexy sexy toenail), whiplash of kings! HEY YOU, pop my ROCKsicle, you damn trailer trash. Oh God, I'm so bored. I drew a 44 on my ampersand, sand with sound, mixed with a phonetic disposition for division? Don't screw my bowling-ball, wench. My dad can't fudge a knuckle worth his microwave.
Unknown Sparkling - 16 years, 9 months, 25 days ago