Mitch

[b]sweet calamity[/b] lie in the comfort on your hands, those thin knees lie in the comfort of sweet calamity i want to see you dance fucker, dance on your knees and feel the oxymoronic irony. the sweet calamity. if your name was oxy i'd give you my lungs. we'd breathe in close in love. I'd lie in the comfort of your sweet calamity. organic breathe, the tedium seethes opening and groping. I'd lie in the comfort of your sweet calamity. use your brain and its proclivities. And just breathe Breathe just breathe. i look to the window of my sweet calamity with nothing left to lose. A feather careens landing on me hugging but the glass separates the glass of sweet calamity. And will you will you know. And will you will you dance. And will you lie in the comfort of my sweet calamity. I see a comet I see it all and i believe it is ending soon and i believe i believe it is ending soon. swoon babe swoon capture nothing in your move. crush lips on lips the red red. the red that is raw. we are material rhetoric of physical mentalities. and we live with nothing left to lose. so swoon baby swoon. swoon you fucker, swoon like a planet orbiting the endless stars as comets fly by. Live in the arms of your sweet calamity with nothing left to lose. oxymoronic irony sweet blithering take me away to the place where i'll stay. to the place. where i'll stay.

[size=1] Drix, I still think you're an amazing poet. You should know that already, anyway. I think you're better than me in some ways, anyway. Or even better, if I could say. "Hummingbird" was about...I think it's your grandfather you mentioned to me that one night? It is about him, and how Drix went to see him, and I think watched him die. I'm not sure if he's died yet...but yes. I can feel the emotion in that poem, and it is heavy. I liked the third poem, it was quite endearing indeed. And I hope you know you aren't a hypocrite...I'm not that amazing of a poet, am I? I think you're equally, if not congruently, amazing. So yeah...I really liked "Hummingbird," it painted a nice image. I could [i]feel[/i] it. Did you hear me? I could [i]feel[/i] it.[/size]

[size=1] How about a break my heart open from my chest to show my undying, never-ending romantical love for whomever I consider will be my lover eternal? And how about I hand them my heart, and when they touch my bleeding heart, instantly, and unquestionablely, they are going to have rapidial sex? That's how stupid this is. I didn't even read the article. I'd rather be spared of the stupidity. What's fun though is making fun of anything like this. Satiring it. That's all that matters to me: My name is Fretzel. And I have a very important story to tell you: AND IT HAPPENED TODAY! Today in school I was sitting there dreaming about hot sex with Angelica Snizelsa. She is the most beautiful angelical beautous that has ever set foot upon this dirthole that is called Earth. She has long blonde hair, the kind that looks like long spaghetti, and I just want to touch her hair, it is [i]soo[/i] beautiful. It is always shiny, and looks like one out-stretched halo that has been emblazoned like an eternal sensational object on her head. Her face is thin, like the thin bones of a fish, and her lips are rosered like blushing cheeks full of envied gullibility. Her eyebrows are thin like her face, barely even there, yet there all at once. Her hands are petite laborers, always moving around, sometimes click-clacking impatiently on her desk, other times curving with her pencil as she writes. Her clothes are simple, but colorfully appealing. She wears a tight shirt which is pink, and accentuates her entire look, making her look like a highly-electric, alighted Christmas tree. She also wears jeans, tight-but-not-too-tight, they hug on her like a nice, warming hug that doesn't lessen, but is strong enough that it is warm. This is Angelica. She is beautiful. And as I sit in my mundane math class pondering over the stuff that is Algebra, and my short, loser-looking teacher talks incessantly about slope, all I can do is stare at Angelica and slope over to her, dreaming of hot sex, which shall probably never happen. As I am looking over, she writes with her pencil, her petite hands gracing her piece of notebook paper she writes on. I lean over quietly, looking cautiously around so that I am not seen by any meandering eyes, namely the teacher's. And slowly, with hard glances and small looks, I read what she is reading as much as I can. She is writing a letter to her girlfriends. In this letter she is telling her friends that "eye thnk its funy Booby already broke ur bracelet," and on and on about bracelets. As I read her neat girl-script, translating words which I couldn't read too well due to her use of "eye" for "I," and "2" for "to," and other such shortened abbreviations that is the code of teenagers, she finally comes to the end, removing her hand completely. I jump from the point where I am reading, going to the end. It simply says, "Now eye just wait for sum1 2 brek mi bracelet, so eye can have sum sex." My head jumped at this sentence. And suddenly, as I looked over at Angelica's hands again, realized she was wearing a bracelet, and now it all fit together. How could I have missed such an obvious thing? How could I have missed her bracelet? So as soon as I could, I grabbed her hand and I ripped that bracelet off like I was a dog after a bone. It took a while to tear it, too, because it was made of rubber it seemed. So I sat there tugging and tugging, and Angelica even tried to scream, but I quickly put my hand on her mouth as she screamed, the warm air of her mouth blowing softly on my hand in the nicest way. The entire class was seemingly staring at me as well, like I was some insane voodooistic moron. They understood pefectly what I was doing. The teacher didn't, though. Just as I broke the thing in half finally, ending my struggle at holding one hand to Angelica's lips, and one hand trying to pry the thing to pieces while also fighting Angelica's hands that were trying to get out of my reach, the teacher came over. He was all stern, and he breathed in my face heavily like he was short of breath. "Young man, follow me," was all he said. So I followed. As I left, I turned to Angelica, making up a slurred poem which combined Shakespeare, and some other pure consideration from my heart. "O my lady, thou art so temperate, and thou art so fine. And now at this accustomed time, and this good-will we hath come to find, I shall get thee in the sheets, and the whiteness of our acts shall bleat. And whence we go to euphoric edge, going through the motional lusts, we shall be pledged and complete. You shall be mine and I shall be yours, and you and I shall be engaged in the battle that betters all. We--" And just like that I was cut off, the teacher grabbing shut my mouth, his face even more stern, yet I could see lunic laughter bleeding from that stern look. "Kid, I don't know what's up with you. You seem to be blabbering some garbage. Now follow me, young man." And as I left, the teacher pushing me along, I turned back and glared into Angelica's eyes, fighting hard as I could to not be taken off and have this one momentary look. She was crying, and it was beautiful. In her hands she held the broken bracelet like it was her heart, and she held it close to her eyes and looked at it, seeming to investigate its tears closely. It was like she was looking at something she had never seen before. As I was just almost out the door, I blew her a kiss, but she just looked away. I was cited for sexual harassment at the principal's office, but it was worth it. I talked to Angelica after school, and she says we have to have sex now. "Might as well have sex," is all she said about it. We made plans to do it in the school bathroom after school tomorrow. When she said this I just held her arm and looked her all in her eye, and she just sort of stared, somewhat like she didn't care, somewhat like she did. Tomorrow I get to have sex! It is so great! I shall have my virginity hung like a fugitive who deserves to be gone and ended and buried in the ground for better things to come. I shall have it hung high, and I shall eat it like a monster. Not just a regular monster, but a beautiful monster that's more of a beast than anything. I shall be a sexy beast, and it's all because of a bracelet. --- Okay, so it wasn't too satirical, but it was fun to write, anyway.[/size]

[size=1][b]Acid Bath-Bones of Baby Dolls[/b] flower girls play lover grave games in the courtyard I heard her screaming like a radio flower girls play lover grave games in the courtyard I heard her screaming like a radio mary lou left marks on you she just screams at the walls the kite string pops I'm swallowed whole by the sky we smoke the bones of baby dolls techno-liquid screaming meat heaven's cold beneath my feet cyber love the anti-man we make love... because we can virgins play where the bayou's blue barefoot (and bloody) eatin' mushroom stew work for pay and pay for freedom **** 'em all, we don't need 'em we smoke the bones of baby dolls everything's gone dry like bottle glass scraping cross the pavement everything's gone dry like bottle glass scraping cross the pavement everything's gone dry like bottle glass scraping cross the pavement everything's gone dry like bottle glass scraping cross the pavement The lyrics don't speak too well for the song. The song itself implements accoustic guitars on par with those of Radiohead's earlier sound. The singer's voice of this band reminds me a lot of Alice in Chain's singer, so if you know them, you can draw that comparison. As for the song...it holds a lot of meaning to me I can't begin to describe. I really like this band, a lot of things about them, anyway. They have a very poetic writing style, and when I read lyrics I am endlessly amazed. This song itself feels sort of like an unforced sigh. It just goes on, and the singer's voice empathizes with you as you dwell in what the song meanders you toward. I especially like it at the end, and I love the poetics of this song, and all their other songs. The band itself broke up long ago. Their last album was released 1994-ish, or maybe 1996, I'm not exactly sure. They also only released two albums--[i]Paegan Terrorism Tactics[/i] and [i]When the Kite String Pops[/i]. Good stuff, anyway.[/size]

[size=1] My first kiss is so very dear to me. It happened when I was 15. I was in my room alone, and there was no lights on and it was dark. The only sound I could hear was my own heart beating, so I held my entire body closer to myself. I then hugged my pillow with my hands firmly, feeling its fluffy demeanor square onto me like a dreamy cloud. The pillow was only a white puff in the dull light, a lanky little thing so soft yet so hardly there. I then proceeded to kiss my pillow, encountering my very first kiss. The kiss was short at first, I simply moved my lips on the pillow, then retracted like a wandering frenchman. But the frenchman soon found solace in his place, and I kissed my pillow again and again until it was full of my watery envy and pleasure. When this was done, the frenchman in me could no longer hold himself in. I kissed my pillow with my tongue in somber resplendence. It was something like being alive again. I'll always remember that kiss. I wonder how that helps this thread, me and my insane sense of humor and all. But you do have to be sick and contorted to be at all cognizant of sarcasm.[/size]

[size=1] Thanks Dagger, it's always nice to get some feedback. I liked the first part over all, and I do believe I'm just going to leave it at its first part, for I think it is at its best there, and I feel that was when I was truly inspired to some extent when writing it. This thing itself was written quickly, especially the second part, so I didn't inted for it to be too amazing as is. But the first part did turn out well, I think. Again, thanks.[/size]

[b]Pass'on[/b] My hands are on fire, and my heart is on a race trying to capture the essence that i displace. I feel broken fell, and i feel broken down, but that doesn't mean i don't feel fire burning round. All about me there's flames, but all the same they aren't there. They're so heavy on me and so heavily bared. I feel all tingled, and i feel all worked up, like i could do anything but what i don't want to. Inside my heart peeks out from its prison, and breaks through freedoms' ribs. My heart bleats throughout my body, burning me within. I try to understand this feeling, try to sate it down, but it just ends up bigger each time, spinning round and round. It is hard to describe, but amazing to try, and i find myself in deep longing, and i find my heart has a head like a hole. Flames don't look like this, but passion does. And passion is what i feel, a deep longing passion that i want to kill. That i want to feed full and want to enamor. And sure as everything, and sure as it be, flames don't look like this, but passion does. Soon i know my heart will crawl back in its prison, its eyes closed, its beating hands in the air. I can just see the steel chains chaining it there, as it burns everything to ashes but passion. It doesn't just lick away to destroy, and feed on oxygen like a fire, but it burns on me, and it is all about my entirety. My whole wishes to burn with abation, and destroy with burning cessations. The prison of my heart is an empty place, there isn't anything but mirrors all over, where you can see your face, and the mirrors are contorted, and i never know which face is which, and i look at each face, wonder which is really mine, but there really is none. Faces don't look like this, but passion does. All my heart does in his cell is sit lone and cry, beating a soliloquy to my brain that i can't even hear. And late at night he always escapes his bars, burning away everything i created or destroyed. My heart is such beautiful misery, an imprisoned brute, ugly but strong. There is not any here to passion with, not at this time or this hour. So I shall bade it alone, and drown it in its fires and groan, and feel such blithering ecstasy. My heart will crawl like a thin spider back to its cell, and i will shut off my two bright lights as i lie well. And another night shall come where i feel a need of dependency, an endless abyssal crater of clemency. There i shall bury what wont, and there i shall bury not flames. For flames are not passion, but passion be an inflectioned flame.

[b]I'm a Bone Machine Baby[/b] My body's a bone machine baby take me away and down to the bay where i'll shed this skin. I was born in fall when the leaves are all dying, and summer is all heaving. And someday baby I'll be leaving. Winter is sure cold, and it's the only time i have to wear my skin so deep. The coldness likes to munch and eat, and my bones are covered. They're covered baby, covered for you. And when I get wounded, I fall to you. Wounds don't bleed, they drain showing the pain that will not go. Don't cut your wrists, you have to cut the sky and take it piece-by-piece and kiss its thigh, its meaty cover that reveals the bone. My body's a bone machine baby, and i eat it till it's skull, till i can't do anything but feel dead. The world's a caustic snow, falling down in droves, and it's quite cold, and it's quite numbing, but i can thaw from you. Numb is what bones creak, like a never-running squeak in some pipes, it never gets fixed, only gets broken more. Bones wrap round my arms and round my brain, and the lipid morose of the way i go feels me all down and under, and my bones are cracking strings sickened to corrosion. Bleed me an ocean, one that doesn't stain, but one that only cries, and one that is you true and tried. Bleed me an ocean, a thing red with dye, full of atrocious lives. And when you bleed me an ocean, peel off your skin, the stuff that hides what's within, and give the skin to me for me to burn. I'm full of fire when i'm all bones, i'm a bone machine baby. A furnace to burn the reasons, because there aren't any. In your blood i'll swim, the mortal stuff full of cells-- that lipid morose of dreams. And in your blood i'll be, the bone machine. I'll create life from nothing, and give you red roses to culminate in your sea, and i'll form an ecosystem that'll make you breathe, full of fish and piranhas that sting. All them things'll be bony just as me, covered in a meaty pulp that has lungs and breathes. The red fish'll be serene, the bleeding eels will extend their bodies, and i'll be injected into you, baby, injected like a drug. I'm a bone machine baby, a furnace to burn away your pain. That red bleeding muscle that seems to never change, with all those tendons that are tense and always the same. Look into my eyes, look past the skin, tear it off and tell me what makes me tick. Tell me all my bones and rip. I'm a fallen angel, you're a fallen thing, we'll live together in dreams. Create everything from bones, and the most broken wings. My wings were broken when i was born there in fall, and yours were broken when you had to fall. We're angels so sick we feel red as roses, feel so broken we feel whole again. And don't stop bleeding an ocean, and culminating the sea. And don't stop giving me problems to burn in my furnace here neath the skin. I've got a life to throw away just like a crumpled piece of paper in a garbage can. I've got things to build from my bones, and kisses to kiss on passion's lips, its whore's lips that are so fine. I'm a bone machine baby, i'm losing ribs one at a time, and breaking down fine. I was born in fall, when there's leaves in the air, and i'm just a leaf, bones and hair. Make me feel like so much more baby, and make my bones be my skin. Make me feel dead as i do within.

[center][img]http://www.thedeftones.com/images/deftonesalbum4cover.jpg[/img] [b]Deftones-[i]Deftones[/i][/b][/center] [size=1] These guys are pretty amazing. One of the best, and most sounding-different rock bands that've came in a while, anyway. I haven't boughten their smash hit, [i]White Pony[/i], but I did download some of that. In comparison, I'd say that that album is better than this one. But that is beside the point. This band has a heavily moany eerie sound, heavily melodic and heavily differing-sounding. Their vocalist has a perfect voice that accentuates every song, and evey song on this album works well enough after you listen to it enough. The starting track--"Hexagram"--is amazing in its own. Whenever I listen to it and I'm in the right mood, I'm still amazed. The basis of the lyrics for the song are simply, "Worship play, worship play," repeated over and over again, pounding you. There's other lyrics dispersed throughout the song as well, but those are the most prevalent throughout, and are what make this song what it is. It's hard to exactly describe this band's sound. They are definitively rock, but they just go and break through this barrier in some ways too. They don't sound exactly like rock, but they sound like something completely else. This record doesn't disappoint at all if you listen to it enough. Again, just as with Radiohead, it takes time to get into this CD. You have to listen to grow used to it. At first I thought every song on this CD sounded the same--which, generalized, they do to an extent--but they don't. The lyrics are an obvious difference, but the songs themselves will capture different emotions in you, and different reactions. Their sound tastes bitter sweet, though. It sort of paints everything fuzzily and drugingly. At first you won't be able to understand some of what the lyrics are that are being sung, and as you listen more and more, the songs become more of your own. It's like this with any good song or CD. The more you listen, the better. You should listen to this band loud. It's what they deserve. They're pretty amazing. Listening to the Deftones is something like dying over and over again--it's heavily morbid music that just won't die, and it endlessly brings you up and down. I wouldn't recommend this album for certain if you're just getting into this band, since from what I've seen many consider their earlier album before this one, [i]White Pony[/i], to be better. So I'd start there if you want; or you can just get this CD. It should be cheaper at this point than [i]White Pony[/i] anyway. I got my copy of [i]Deftones[/i] for $10 when it first came out, so maybe you'll still be able to find it for that cheap. This is one of my favorite bands for sure, though. They're worth checking out.[/size]

[size=1] I don't see how it's disgusting, but whatever. People need to lighten up on what they grade as "disgusting." [/size]

A butterfly flies round the sky, going round and round till it falls down in death. A creature made of sunshine stands above and watches the butterfly fall down to its death. She catches it in her hand and stares at it. Her hair is made of flowers, the scent of them permeates around in an ulceration that is as vile as it is disgusting. The flowers are rotten and decayed and decadent, emaciated lovelies with small stems and small meaning. Her flowers move up and down as she moves her head around and glares at the butterfly in different views. She looks at its wings, at its beady little dead eyes, at its smallest features. And just as she caught it she lets it fly down on the ground, and she smushes it with her bare feet, her toenails long and bent, wicked as what she is doing seems. When she removes her foot, there is nothing on the ground at all, not even the guts of the butterfly. The butterfly is gone, seemingly evaporated with the touch of her foot. For all its pains, this is all it gets; the final realization of non-existence, and then nothing as it dies away without a scream. So she screams for it as its pain wells in her heart. Things whirr around in her head like weights falling and thunking on the ground hard. She can sense sunlight up above, can picture the large sky, a blue ocean full of gray clouds. She is the butterfly's memories for a momentary elapse, a span of time that ends as soon as it comes. The whole time her mouth is open in pain; it is the utter pain which the butterfly experienced, one that she now experiences. And she too cannot yell, just as the butterfly, but can only feel the pain and feel an unheeded want to scream her pain, and get some help. She soon walks off in the distance, blood on her hands as she stares off into the sun. Her name is Pain. [center].....[/center] All about the Earth she walks. She is in everyone and not in everyone all at once. She holds a feeling of contempt in everything she sees, but even so at times smiles and is happy to kill other things' pains. She has lived many years, running often through fields of daisies, ashamed of how everything was and is. Her dreams were once as bright as the sun, but now they are liquid blue, as clear and as sad all at once. Often, she can be seen staring into the sun, feeling it die. The flowers upon Pain's hair once had stems as green as envy. The buds on them used to be the colors of rainbows?multi-faceted, full of color which was atrociously beautiful. Any that would see her would be in awe at her form. Pain was created when the Earth was first created. The coming together of all its parts, and the seismic as well as volcanic activity created much hurt from the being born Earth. As the Earth was made, she was formed from magma and fire, the burning passion of inflection. Born in fire and flame, her entire body was racked with anguish and burns, some of the scars still lasting at this day, but most of it now gone as it has been healed. She was born in her own blood. She sat inside the hot and warm Earth, burning and receiving its pains, bleeding fire and her own blood. Her form bled and bled and burned and burned till it was almost dry. During this time, deep in the Earth, she cried often. She would put her flaming hand on the Earth, feeling hurt that was unbearable, and tears would begin to flow from her like a river. One day her pain was so great from the Earth that she cried all that day, wanting to die and not exist. The entire time she cradled her arms around her, sobbing and crying her tears, trying to lull herself to a painful sleep. It was in this way that the Earth's endless pain of its creation was sated, and the fires momentarily put out. From this oceans grew, large bodies containing Pain's tears. Pain also escaped from within the Earth in this way, and when she first stepped out into the rapidly developing world, and saw it for the first time, she gazed in glory and awe. She could not believe how beautiful it appeared to be. And even though her form was wasted away, a bleeding wound that ached all over, she managed to smile through raw lips.

[size=1] lol. Takes a dork to know a dork and another dork to know a dork, or something. Aw. Tony wants his time back. Poor thing... I'm going to say Ynot whenever the chance comes up when speaking with Tony from now on. It shall be classic...classic just like "peach head."[/size]

What is your name? [b]Mitchell Grant Smith[/b] Spell your name backwards.[b] sdrawkcab eman ruoy llepS.[/b] Date of birth: [b]12/10/1986[/b] Male or female? [b]Male[/b] Astrological sign: [b]Sparks[/b] Nicknames: [b]Mitchboo[/b] Occupation? [b]Slacker/ Semi-hobo nothingness.[/b] Height: [b]About 5' 8"[/b] Weight: [b]About 145-150ish.[/b] Hair color: [b]Brown. But it looks blonde from past dyeings. [/b] Eye color: [b]Green[/b] Where were you born? [b]Wyoming[/b] Where do you reside now? [b]Bismarck, ND[/b] Age: [b]Seventeen.[/b] Screen names: [b]dilapoid, gurthang16, cruxed chimera, sirmeh16, etc.[/b] E-mail addy: [b]E-mal addy.[/b] What does your screen name stand for? [b]Dilapidation.[/b] What is your gangsta name? [b]Dildopoid.[/b] What does your diary name stand for? [b] Death is a Word? Exactly what it means[/b] Pets: [b]steP.[/b] Number of candles you blew out on your last birthday cake? [b]Enough to burn.[/b] Piercings? [b]No.[/b] Tattoos? [b]No.[/b] Shoe size: [b]Doesn't matter[/b] Righty or lefty? [b]When you know what is right, you know what is [i]left[/i][/b] Wearing right now: [b]Pink Floyd tight t-shirt, jeans, boxers, shoes, socks.[/b] Hearing: [b]Led Zeppelin-Ten Years Gone[/b] Feeling: [b] Melancholy[/b] Eating/drinking: [b]Gum[/b] ~Guys/Love/Kissing/And Other Stuff~ Have you ever been in love? [b]No[/b] How many people have you told "I love you"? [b]Not many[/b] How many people have you been in love with? [b]None[/b] How many people have you kissed? [b]None.[/b] Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? [b]No[/b] How many people have you dated? [b]None[/b] What do you look for in a guy/girl? [b]I am not even sure...if there's a click, or something?[/b] What's the first thing you notice about the opposite/same sex? [b]Depends. It varies on mood. Obviously their physical features.[/b] What type of guy/girl do you usually go for? [b]I wouldn't know at this point[/b] Do you have a bf/gf? [b] No, I don't have a BF/GF[/b] If so where did you meet them? [b]When the cows mooed[/b] What do you like most about your bf/gf? [b]How they write poetry.[/b] Do you have a crush right now? [b]Yes, I believe I do.[/b] If so who is it? [b]And you think I'm direct enough to answer? That's for me to know.[/b] Do you believe in love at first sight? [b]No[/b] Do you remember your first love? [b]No[/b] Who is the first person you kissed? [b]No[/b] Do you believe in fate? [b]No[/b] Do you believe in soul mates? [b]No[/b] If so do you believe you'll ever find yours? [b]No[/b] ~Family Stuff~ How many siblings do you have? [b]One[/b] What are your parents names? [b]Too specific here.[/b] What are your siblings names? [b]Too specific here[/b] How many siblings does your mother have? [b]...[/b] How many siblings does your father have? [b]....[/b] Where are your parents from? [b]...[/b] Is your family close? [b]No.[/b] Does your family get together for holidays? [b]Yes[/b] Do you have a drunk uncle? [b]No[/b] Any medical problems run through your family? [b]No[/b] Does someone in your family wear a toupee? [b]No[/b] Do you have any nieces or nephews? [b]Yes[/b] Are your parents divorced? [b]My first father and mother, yes[/b] Do you have step parents? [b]Yes[/b] Has your family ever disowned another member of your family? [b]No[/b] If so for what? [b]No[/b] Did some of your family come to America from another country? [b]Do I care?[/b] ~Music Stuff~ What song do you swear was written about you or your life? [b]I don't swear any song was written about me or my life.[/b] What's the most embarrasing cd you own? [b]I am not embarassed to own what I own.[/b] What's the best CD you own? [b]Any Radiohead CD[/b] What song do you absolutely hate? [b]Nelly-Hott in Herreeee[/b] Do you sing in the shower? [b]Yes[/b] What song reminds you of that special someone? [b]Nine Inch Nails-March of the Pigs[/b]

[quote][b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/b][/color] I also call you Sly. [b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/b][/color] Mwahahah. :-D [b][color=blue]Syk3 26:[/b][/color] I also call you dildopoid. [b][color=blue]Syk3 26:[/b][/color] I also call you dildopoid. [b][color=blue]Syk3 26:[/b][/color] >:o [b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/b][/color] I also call you.. [b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/color][/b] SlyGuy. [b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/b][/color] lol [b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/b][/color] Or maybe SkyGuy. [b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/b][/color] The intermediate friend of ShyGuy.. [b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/b][/color] SkyGuy, or SlyGuy. [b][color=blue]Syk3 26:[/b][/color] o__o [b][color=red]Dilapoid:[/b][/color] Mwahahaha. :D[/quote] [size=1] Nicknames include..... Smitchell. Smitch. *****. ***** Hell. Mitchell Smurf. Smithy. [b]Mr. Itch[/b]. ;) Mr. *****. Mr. Smithy. Smitzcky. Smooch. Mootch. Mooitch. Moot. Mit. Smit. Tit. Lit. Kit. Dit. Nit. Bit. Gritch Hell. Grittle. Bith Ell. Ell. HCTim. Htims. MG Smith. Edgar Allan Mg Smith. Mitch-O. Slitchell. Stich Hell. Flinch Ell. Winchell. Pinchell. Clitch. Titch. Gitch. Sinch. Vitch. Wadadaga Mitchool Ish. MITCHKAMBA. MITCHKOOMBA. MITCHDUDE. MITCHSPOON. TOASTY SMITHY. SMITHY SMOOTH SMITHY SMO. Butch. Poetich. PoeFollower. Mitch the Whore. Mithus Smihst. And lastly: DILDOPOID.[/size]

[center][img]http://www.ugo.com/channels/music/features/radiohead_hailtothethief/images/radiohead_1.jpg[/img] [b]Radiohead: [i]Hail to the Thief[/i][/b][/center] [size=1] This CD is worth hearing. It is most definitely one of my most favorite records of this year. Not just because it's Radiohead, but because it's actually decent if you listen to it enough. It might come off as esoteric and whimsical at first, or heavily vague, or any number of things. But that is only because it takes time to get into this CD. And most any good music will do that to you. It starts off with "2+2=5." The song itself is amazing, but my first few dozen throughs through the song didn't make me like it. It was only after listening to this song enough to where it just felt like it worked that I actually grew to enjoy it. It has to be one of the higher tracks on the CD most definitely. The song at first sounds vague, uncapturing, dull, boring. And it's like this at the beginning in some accords. It starts off rather slow, and builds up. And eventually, it explodes in an amazing sound that is Radiohead in their catharsis. The lyrics for this song are also interesting, and Thom Yorke sings them in a way that captures them in their essence, especially when the song explodes in its center. And just like it came, it ends. The end of it is sudden, but works well. "Sail to the Moon" is next. This song reminds me a lot of Pink Floyd...and the influence is obvious. Radiohead also did a cover of "Wish You Were Here." The song itself is one of the more melodic songs on the album...well, at least in a serene sense. The song is calming, hypnotic, interesting. One of my favorite songs on the album most definitely. Next up on the CD is "Sit Down. Stand Up." This song even took me [i]longer[/i] to get into. It has much less rythm than "2+2=5" did, and it also is much slower paced. It also doesn't explode, or anything, but remains mostly a sigh throughout its entirety. But it works after you listen to it enough. And the lyrics, "Walk into the jaws of hell," and the other later lyrics of the song keep your attention in a vague way. As the song goes, it also gets more and more easier to listen to, and when it comes to the point where the lyrics, "Gonna rain drops," keeps repeating over again, it works even better; especially the more you listen to it as well. A decent song, but not the best on the CD. But it still is amazing. "Backdrifts," is a really interesting song. It sounds so surreal. Most of this album sounds surreal--that's just the "new" sound of Radiohead, I guess. It starts out with this really interesting sound. The sound is hard to describe...but it's interesting. And then the drums are added, and that is mostly the basis for the melody of the song. The rest of the song is Thom Yorke's voice. It all comes together well to make a pretty good song. It also takes a while to get used to this song, but stick with this record. You'll grow to like it. "Go to Sleep," implements guitars. Anyone that is familiar with Radiohead's older sound should be able to easily enjoy this song. Again, Thom Yorke's voice adds a surreal beauty to the song, and the hypnotic way the guitar is played, with the drums coming in eventually, works well. Another good song. The lyrics for the song are also pretty capturing--especially how Thom Yorke sings, as always. True to its name, this song makes me want to go to sleep; or so I think lol. "Where I End and You Begin." Another song that starts out with only synth noises, a la "Backdrifts." Then goes on from there. The drums gain dominance mostly, and the song itself has a nice feel to it. Thom Yorke, again, comes out and makes the song what it is. "We Suck Young Blood" is next. This is probably one of my favorite songs. It is grotesquely beautiful in an odd way. Not sure how to explain it, but I love the way Thom Yorke sings here yet again. "The Gloaming." I love that sound at the beginning...it sounds like that popping sound that old record players made, I think that's the best way to describe it. Another good song if you listen to it enough. It's notable to say that "The Gloaming" is an awesome title for a song. And that record-sounding-poppingness-noise is played throughout the whole song. It's nice if you play it loud especially, lol. "There There," is probably the song I'm least aquainted with on this record. It was the first single released, and it just hasn't really caught my attention. There's better things to be heard on this record, in my opinion. But the lyrics themselves in the lyrics speak well to me: "Just because you feel it doesn't mean it's there." "I Will," is probably the shortest Radiohead song ever. It's one minute and fifty-nine seconds in total length. But it is still one of the best songs on the record despite this. It just works well, and the lyrics, which speak of war, and such, seem right in this song. "A Punchup at a Wedding," is probably my third or second favorite song on the record. It works well, as it seems this whole record has. It takes some listening to, as with this whole album, to get used to. But it works. The lyrics especially are interesting: "You had to piss on our parade." I've never heard this saying before, so I thought it was awesome when I heard it, lol. Next up is "Myxomatosis." Myxomatosis is a fatal disease which kills rabbits, or something to that extent. Besides this, it's a damn awesome title for a song yet again, I think. The song itself has this interesting synth noise that is something like a lawn mower in comparison (sorry, I'm not good at naming what the song sounds like, lol, just know that it's a cool sound). Another one of my favorite songs on the album. "But now, I don't know why I, feel so tongue-tied," is the stand-out lyric of the track, probably. A good song that takes a long time to get used to. But a good song nonetheless. And lastly we have "A Wolf at the Door." This song is [i]amazing[/i] from the first time you hear it onward. Thom Yorke sings so quickly in this song you can't even keep up with what he is saying, and what he says is said with a passion. He says it in a way that sounds like he's sick to hell with what he's talking about, and sick as hell with annoyance. It works well. One of the most easily listened to tracks on the whole album, if not the most easily heard song. It especially grows amazing in the middle, when Thom Yorke just goes beyond singing and what he's saying just becomes a bat beating at you. Very well done indeed. The lyrics for the song are also amazing. It also has the f-word in it, lol. Anyways, that's enough for now. More later.[/size]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by cloricus [/i] [B]One would have to be superior. [/B][/QUOTE] [size=1] One would have to be spammy. No, neither needs to be "superior," it's only in some kid's mind like yours that it has to be. Did you even listen to what Tony said? because it's exactly what I think.[/size]

[size=1] I'd also like to say you should [i]explain[/i] the song. I think this thread has a nice chance of being something good and not being closed if people explain the song--I mean explain it down to how it sounds, what it means to you, etc. Then this thread, hopefully, won't get closed. Anyone who likes Radiohead rocks. Anyways, I'm not listening to anything currently. So I have nothing else to say.[/size]

[size=1] This thread pertains well to this thread. So I merged. If you like something, you shall do it. Comics aren't and shouldn't be reserved for a certain age group. It defies this in my opinion. I think anyone can enjoy them. That's my thoughts on your question, anyway.[/size]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by ChibiHorsewoman [/i] [B][color=violet]I simply meant that you shouldn't call someone a liar because of something they're seeing. IN my religion, there are possibilities of things like that happening the same with Ryu and Samurai. If someone heard God talking to them, would you call them a liar? I don't think so. So why should this be any different? You shouldn't make judgements on things you know nothing about.[/color] [COLOR=silver][SIZE=1]and i still think you're rude[/SIZE][/COLOR] [/B][/QUOTE] [size=1] And what makes you any different? How do you know anything about God, or the supernatural? You don't. You assume you do, but as far as I am concerned, there couldn't be a God as much as there could. Tony isn't rude at all. Nor is Leh. They are simply stating their opinions. And even if it might be a touchy subject for you, you yourself know nothing if there is "supernatural" or "God," so your reasoning in saying that they are talking about something they know nothing about is hypocritically, and contradictingly flawed. The way Leh phrased what he said [i]was[/i] harsh, but some people will be like this. The idea that smoke can talk to you is absurd in all its meaning. He could have phrased what he said better, but sometimes it's best to say what you want to loud. But other times it isn't, and people will demean you for it. But ah well. I myself think hearing voices from smoke is pretty insane.[/size]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Semjaza Azazel [/i] [B]How many times am I going to have to see that stupid equation at this place? [/B][/QUOTE] [size=1] For infinity times and finite minds, the aquiesce to bondageman is the stalemate. Altered views perceptioned true, the answer lies not in how many, but it lies in how much. Neither man nor woman be greater, and a man cannot bear forth a child, and a woman cannot make a child lone. Each needs another to breed their kinds. Neither man nor woman think the same, and nor will they ever do so, it shall never changed. When it rains men, it rains pigs, the swine that are divine interventors, and when it rains women, it rains whales, beeched, shore-ridden things, with long tails. And in the rain, and splattering hail, it rains beauty. I find threads like these to be ignorance at its most outspoken. Judging someone on their gender is like judging them on their skin color. It is something that is predefined, it is something that cannot be changed, but only through superficial manners. How can two sexes of the same breed be greater than another? Each is not the same, and each does not think the same, but neither has things that outweight the other. To think otherwise is to think without one's mind.[/size]

[size=1] It's the deed that teaches, not the act. Murder and the death penalty are not opposites that cancel each other out, but they are similars that breed their kind.[/size]

[size=1][b]SECTION A[/b] [i]In the following section, please answer each statement with one of five answers: A) Strongly Agree B) Agree C) Somewhat Agree D) Disagree E) Strongly Disagree[/i] [b]1) I find OtakuBoards rules easy to understand and follow.[/b] A. [b]2) I feel that the staff at OtakuBoards understand their job and are capable of performing it appropriately.[/b] A [b]3) OtakuBoards is easy to navigate.[/b] A [b]4) OtakuBoards has a friendly atmosphere.[/b] B [b]SECTION B[/b] [i]Please try to keep your answers relatively short in this section.[/i] [b]5) How often do you visit OtakuBoards?[/b]Daily. [b]6) Do you feel that the rules are too strict/not strict enough/fine as they are? [/b]They're fine. [b]7) Should we continue to uncensor the creative writing areas on OtakuBoards? [/b]Of course. [b]8) Would you rather a decentralized forum system on OB (more forums, less activity per forum) or a centralized forum system (less forums, more activity per forum)?[/b] Centralized. [b]9) Would you like to see a closer integration of myOtaku and OtakuBoards?[/b] Sure. [b]10) Are you signed up to myOtaku.com?[/b] Yes. [b]11) If you are not signed up to myOtaku.com, do you plan to sign up in the near future? [/b]Yes. [b]12) Do you read Announcements at OtakuBoards? [/b]Yes. [b]13) Which single Category (Category, as opposed to individual Forum) do you spend most of your time visiting?[/b] Otaku Lounge or Music or Poetry/ Fan Fic. [b]14) Do you think that OtakuBoards should offer an in-built chat system as part of our service? If we included a chat, would you use it?[/b] No. No. [b]15) If we offered an "OtakuBoards Wireless" service that would be accessible via Internet-capable cellphones, would you use it? [/b]No. [b]16) When we offer a next generation version of OtakuBoards, should we continue to provide semi-regular community events in our Event Arena or a similar forum? [/b]Definitely. [b]17) If you could add one new Category (Category, not Forum) to OtakuBoards, what would it be?[/b] Otaku History, or a Shy Shrine. [b]18) If you could remove one Category from OtakuBoards, what would it be?[/b] None. [b]19) If you could add anything to OtakuBoards (in terms of a new forum, a technical tool/feature, etc), what would it be?[/b] Otaku Bot. [b]20) On a scale of 1-10 (1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest), how would you rate your experience at OtakuBoards since you registered?[/b] 666.666. Or any number anyway. Scale systems are too inane for me.[/size]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Bloodsin [/i] [B]Hold up, Dr. Doolittle. How do you know that animals don't concede to love? Because they can't think on the same level? Because they can't fully express it? What about retarded people? A lot of them just barely operate above the mental cap of animals. So they can't love? In either or which case, I can pull whatever excuse out of my a[i][/i]ss I wish. As you've done in your post. To me, the idea of two people of the same gender getting married is silly. [/quote][/b] [size=1] I know that animals don't concede to love because I know that they don't have the emotional attachments we have. Love isn't just about sex, you know. It's far beyond that. And it takes an intellectual enough mind to feel these emotions. And animals, as far as I see, don't feel anything but a small, vague sense of emotion. They feel pain, etc, but none of the heavy psychologies that we feel. In the end, love is just a word. It means what it means to you as a person. It's rather pointless to debate over a word that you, or I, or most don't even know what means but what it means to us. The whole handicapped people angle doesn't really vividify your point or validate it either. Again, love is just a word. It doesn't matter what it means. And as far as I am concerned, a handicapped person is far more intelligent than a nature-abiding animal. An animal beside a human doesn't have our intellect. It can't think for itself. It follows completely on its natures. And sex is a nature on one hand, and in their hands. They do it simply because it is interred in them, and simply because to have a species survive, you must keep making more members of that species for it to survive. If that is love, then what is sex? Is sex love? No, as far as I see, it is not. Again, what love means doesn't bear a matter on anything about what gays and their marriages mean. Love is an opinionatedly used word. And it's going to continue to be used like that. I'd like to know more why you think it's wrong for gay people to marry? Is it because you've been taught that it's wrong? Nothing that you've been told is wrong and right should stay that way in your mind. You have to look at all angles to something. You can't just sit back and conform. That isn't thinking for yourself. That's not using your own brain. That's just eating something someone else has fed you and keeping it inside when it isn't yours. What is right and wrong is set to human views. They are just what other people think. As far as I am concerned, there isn't really a set "right or wrong," but society influences its rights and wrongs on you. It's those people that look at something and examine it themselves that actually see the logical thing to think. And logically, there is not a thing wrong with a gay marriage. People have the right to do whatever the world they want. There isn't any written law in anything aside from society that says it's wrong. And it's only prejudicial people that won't see this; only those people that don't think for themselves. Too many people in this world don't think for themselves. They simply choose to believe in some god, or they simply choose to do something because it is marked good by society and its peoples. So what is wrong with gay marriage? Marriage itself is mostly the product of the church, and I don't agree with it. That is forcing your values on another. And that's also what treating gay people the way they are treated is. Morally, according to the gracious bible, it is bad to be gay. I say don't listen to what the bible says--think for yourself. Morals shouldn't even exist, they should more be what you believe, not what other people have lead you to beleve. Sadly, as I've said, people are so gullible that they don't even think about something in-depth. Sexuality itself is a very unstable thing. In some senses it is a choice, in others it isn't. On one hand, society makes it seem bad to be gay. So most males in our society choose to be attracted to women, or so they say. Even I've been attracted to a guy before. Just not as in strong a fashion as a woman. Women just seem to attract me more all together. And does this make me gay? I am not sure, but to me it doesn't. To me I shouldn't even be labeled as anything. To me what sex I am attracted to shouldn't matter. We are all sexual beings, we are all human, we all can love something. As for sex, it is more a nature than it is a form of love, but it heightens love to a new extent. I don't know if I could have sex with a man, but I can tell you that I could love another man in more than just a caring way. Any single person can if they aren't so one-sided as society seems to make everything. Honestly, I'm sure that any man has been attracted to another man on some level. My attractions haven't been sexual, but more along the lines of I was attracted to their personalities. I think personalities and so on are far more important than what the person is. Love defies gender. And it should. It shouldn't matter what it is you love, as long as you truly love it under your definition of what love feels like.[/size] [quote][b]You think it's silly for animals to get married(although I myself agree). I was also making the statement that this new law also opens the flood gates for many other things. 20 years ago, people would've laughed at you for the idea of a gay marriage. This law shows that you don't know a **** about what they'll Ok next. [/B][/QUOTE] [size=1] Again, you aren't thinking for yourself. What happened 20 years ago shouldn't have any bearing on what you think other than how it led your own thoughts and beliefs along. I don't see a thing wrong with this law. It's civil rights. It's what people deserve. Saying that it's wrong for two people of the same sex to marry is as bad as segregating black people and saying that they don't belong. It just isn't right at all. If you don't agree with people being gay, then that is your place. But at least see that it is possible for someone else of the same sex to love another of the same sex, and that it isn't bad, but only when you get one-sided and don't look past society and its ideals. Eventually, someday, I hope nothing that defines you should matter but only to the extent that it makes you you. But I'm guessing that is far off. I really find how one-sided and hostile people are about so many things to be silly. But ah well.[/size]

Words are only symbols strung together to represent some ideal, or emotion. They notion towards something that is alone indescribable by normal means. Definitions are things which give a new, unknown word a meaning by using words that are already known. And bathrooms, they are convenient places where one can get some nice quality time alone. The most interesting thought once you are alone in a bathroom stall, or even alone in your own personal bathroom, is a wonder as to who has been here before, sitting upon the toilet, or perhaps standing aside the toilet, and what has gone on there. It is also quite an unsettling thought as well, for it goes into one of the most personal matters?the very acts of defecation and urination. Another interesting thing to think about is what the persons before you had thought of in this same bathroom you are in. Evidence can be found as to what, exactly, people have thought of as they sit on the toilet, or stand in front of it, by the scrawlings made from pen, pencil, or any sharp item. I have often found going into a bathroom is like going into another plane of existence. Once inside, the door usually slams shut behind you if it is at a school bathroom. It just has an eerie feeling as the door shuts as if by some force. Yes, it's only gravity shutting the door, but I think it's still eerie in a sense. Especially if there's no one in the bathroom, and it's just quiet to the point where the only thing you can hear is yourself. It's then that I wonder if I'm going to see something out of the corner of my eye, or maybe something is going to jump out of nowhere at me. Call it paranoia, I call it an insane muster of imagination. Ever since I was young I've had this imagination, and I guess it's one of the things that makes me as erratic as I can be at times. I remember when I was really young that I couldn't sleep because I thought the devil was going to get me. Another memory that stands so vividly in my mind is I absolutely swear I remember my Dad coming in my room and beating me, or something to this extent. And then soon after that, my Dad came in again, and I remember asking him if he really did that, and him completely denying it, and was kind as ever. It's amazing how reality and fantasy can just come together as if they are tied into one another. I'm certain at this point I just dreamed what happened, but never have I had such a vivid dream as that. Except for maybe two other times, and that is all. Bathrooms always get these kind of thoughts going into my mind, especially if it's an empty public one. It is the quiet, and it's also just how grimy a bathroom feels altogether. It is like a coma to your eyes; they are always so white if they're a public one, and then the toilets are always full of urine, or sometimes even feces, as if to give the bathroom an unclean and dirty feeling. And it just seems to bring these kinds of things out of you. The thoughts also seem to go to things that could happen in a bathroom. Especially in an empty one. I'm sure that many murders have happened in bathrooms, many dirty thoughts, and many things I don't even want to get into. It's just rational that something which is so quiet and dirty will catalyst you to thoughts which normally don't come to you. I think it's also the entire factor of some place such as a school bathroom not being a common place you visit. That too plays a role in altering how you are thinking. I do think I'm paranoid. My imagination just does that to me. In a bathroom, as you walk in a stall and shut the door, and you look on the sides of the square which encloses you , there is sometimes words that jump at you from all sides. The words stare at you, and you stare at them, and you can't help but read them. It has been said that we don't even look at a word for each letter it uses to spell, but we look at it as a whole. I believe this is quite true, especially as we become more and more familiar with words and use them more often. These phrases strewn about a bathroom only lead to make you wonder more what people could have possibly been thinking as they sat in this stall where you are now sitting, preparing to do what must be done. This also makes you roll your eyes at the lack of useless things you'll find. Don't get it wrong, though. There's some really interesting phrases to be found in bathrooms. But as I found, by going into the bathrooms I could here at school, there isn't much interesting in a high schooler's mind, at least. Most phrases appeared to me to be carved by some pubescent boy that had raging hormones that, for some reason, he could not control as he was going to the bathroom and alone to his thoughts. I can just imagine some zit-infested baboon with wide, gaping eyes, and buck teeth sitting on a toilet with a pen in hand just glaring away at the wall, thinking deeply to himself like he's in some kind of twisted psychiatric evaluation. I can also imagine him drooling and salivating at his thoughts as he begins to scribble his horrid script upon the wall. Thoughts like, Man do I want Michelle right now swirling from his head onto the stall's wall like some beastial instinct. And as he writes them he hums in an entirely rabid fan boy fashion, his eyes fixed fazedly on the wall as if that right there is Michelle's naked form dancing merrily for him, up and down, and smiling as she looks over her shoulder. Then suddenly, as if a comet just hit him square in the head and took out his brain, Mr. Baboon finally comes to the realization that that is not Ms. Michelle dancing naked there, but it is simply his pencil waggling up and down all excited like a dog. And Baboo just sighs, and he lets his eyes drift up to the ceiling in an extremely dreamy fashion. And soon Baboo leaves his sheltered home, where now scribbled on the wall stands, "Michelle, I want your heart for mine, want to feel you inside, want to know you MOTHER F-ING WANT ME DOWN AND DIRTY." I've noticed that there's always an f-word somewhere in the tangle of words you'll find. It's people that are pubescent, by rule of thumb, that write these. Don't ever listen to them, either. Why teenagers feel it's fun to say f-this and f-that all the time I have yet to find out. I especially hate those kinds of people that say the f-word every single sentence. It's like they're afflicted with a speech impediment, and for some odd reason, it has ended up going into F-ingal Syndrome. I think these people have to be some of those who write f-this and that on the walls of stalls. I can just picture Mr. F-you Wong right now. He'd be some tall kid, maybe. Or maybe short. And he's got this certain mean look about him. And as he's walking down the hall, he's just yelling endlessly, "F-ing F I got in that f-ing class, what the f-ing bizatch is this f-ing f-ery. What the f! I ain't f-ing ever going to f-ing go to f-ing class one more f-ing time. Holy f-ing mother of f-ing f-ery. F-ing f-er." At this point I would like to take out a sniper rifle and shove it directly in Mr. F-you Wong's face, and say something like, "Now what do you have to say?' And I can completely imagine his mouth beginning to open like an opening gate, and then him going on and on again with his f-this and f-that. At this time I would look at him like he was some poor waif if an animal, and I'd not hesitate to pull the trigger and allow him to flinch as the only thing that flew out was a large flag which said upon it, "F-ery is f-ing." Whatever the case is with these messages upon bathroom stalls, I shall always be there to read them. For I am the bathroom decoder of the ages. I'm also a paranoid-ridden camel. I thirst for the feelings of paranoia and nostalgia. Next time you see me in the hall, maybe you could tell me if Baboo ever found his Michelle. I know I haven't. But at least I'm not scribbling on walls like some inane yak.

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by PoisonTongue [/i] [B]Originally, I was steering very clear of this thread, but... Boba, you said precisely what I've been saying for a long, long time. Thank you for vocalizing logic. [/B][/QUOTE] [size=1] I said the same thing, basically. I don't care. It's not my problem. It's their choice. I am not going to say it's right or wrong. It is wrong on some hands, on others it isn't. So I'll stand in the middle and let people do what they can; I'll be indifferent to it. It's best to be as fair as you can in any situation...and pro-choice is definitely fair. Just my 0.02 to add to his 0.02 so we can have 0.04.[/size]