Community Announcement: Part Two
Here's a recurring fantasy of mine:
I step up to a pelican crossing in London, and there's a car approaching, a fat shiny Beamer. It's clear that the driver has no intention of stopping for the likes of me. He's an important guy, after all; a busy guy. He has clients to see and briefcases to carry - where on earth will he find the four seconds it takes to pause his journey at a crossing? Time is money, people! He could privatise five hospitals in those four seconds.
As he prepares to sail right past, he stares straight ahead in some needless pretence that he has somehow failed to see me by the road side. At the last possible moment, I step off the pavement and position myself squarely in his path, turning to meet his eyes.
The impact shatters the bones in my thighs, my kneecaps split apart, and there's a collective gasp from the bus shelter on the other side of the road. My upper body pitches forward towards the windscreen, a grin fixed on my face, my eyes still locked on his as they widen in shock. My face hits the glass and there's just the tiniest fraction of a second during which the two objects resist each other, until suddenly they both burst. My lips are ripped off and my nose collapses. One of my eyes is torn open and my jaw is snapped back under my chin as I am propelled through the ragged hole. The glass shreds my throat and I spray the leather interior with copious black jets of blood. That suit is gonna need some fucking dry-cleaning too.
Right about now, his reflexes kick in, and he slams the brake pedal into the carpet. There's a kind of equilibrium as my body just hangs from the windscreen, my face hanging just inches from his. He can't take his eyes off my jeering, lipless, semi-toothed grin and the blood-streaked vitreous humour running down my cheek. My tongue flaps limply from the bottom of my jawless head, razzing him as he sits rigid in horror. When he eventually steps from his car, shaking and green-faced, he'll realise that the substance in his mouth is a mixture of brain tissue, skull fragments and clumps of matted sticky hair, and that's when he'll vomit. He'll be missing quite a bit of work for the next while.
In other words: drivers, please stop at pelican crossings for pedestrians. Somebody's gonna get hurt one of these days.
posted by Snotty McShot @ 4:05 pm
23 Awful Cunts
23 Mewling Pricks
"That suit is gonna need some fucking dry-cleaning too."
Excellent.
Excellent indeed - but do you really mean a pelican crossing? That's a crossing contolled by traffic lights, and even bastard drivers tend to stop at red lights. Perhaps you mean a zebra crossing. This site provides an excellent introduction to the different types of pedestrian crossings for the uninitiated.
Yeah, I mean the one with the fucking stripes and shit. I guess I could edit this post, but I'd rather sodomise with a cactus dildo - yez get the idea, who cares what it's called?
Don't you be going all Duff on me, Larry!
You guys name your fucking crossings?
Damn, you bastards are smarter than us Americans.
Now, where can I get hold of a 'Beamer', a really big, heavy 7-series with all the bells and whistles. And does anyone know the price of the ferry over to that 'little piece of England over the seas'?
Congratulations Snotty, you've picked up a Duff Death Threat.
Was it something you said?
But what if the suit doesn't really get your point? I mean it is one hell of a statement, but some folks are really thick. Can you repeat it? I mean, pushing a shopping cart and leaving it in front of a beamer who doesn't stop at a zebra crossing is one thing, but dying in the process is a bit too much if you ask me.
Death threat? No, no! It is just my ardent desire to fulfill all the dreams and fantasies of dear, old 'Snotters'. Sometimes I think I'm too good for this world. Personally, I prefer to fantasise about women, but if 'Beamers' are your turn on, well, each to his own.
I realise it's difficult for you, Double D, but please try not to be quite so relentlessly obvious.
DCveR: "But what if the suit doesn't really get your point?"
Yeah, I was thinking about this. Maybe if I could just hang on long enough to drag myself over to him and give him a big hug or something, drool down his back a little bit. I don't really care if he doesn't get the point, I guess, so long as my demise is so ridiculously gruesome that he's sufficiently traumatised by the event. Then maybe a spell in jail on top of that might teach him a lesson or two.
The way I see it, I'm gonna die at a zebra (cheers Larry) crossing anyway - they're fucking mental around here - so I might as well go out with a bang.
Don't you be going all Duff on me, Larry!
But I was *right* about the crossing thing. Duff would have sworn blind that it was called a Paki-with-vitiligo-crossing
Hey Sylow_p - your surname wouldn't be "subgroup" would it?
No I wouldn't, Larry, I would claim that it was all a misunderstanding!
its you fucking pedestrians in england that piss me off. always crossing the road at stupid places just stepping off the sidewalk. next asshole that does that in front of me will get run down and then i will report them for jaywalking.
brits suck ass.
Fucking get a grip. And while you are at it learn that the laws in the UK are different to those you know back home. For one thing, Jaywalking? It doesn't exist as a crime here. In fact technically pedestrians have right of way over vehicles on the streets of Britain. So run me down you fuck wit and I'll invoke one of those US customs that has made it across the pond... I'll sue the arse off you!
Hullo, Americonymous.
The problem with pedestrians vs. drivers is that at any one time, in any street, there are more pedestrians than drivers. The reason for this is that not every pedestrian drives, but every driver pedests. Pedestrianism is the bond we all share, and to deny your pedestrianist tendencies is to deny your basic humanity.
Either that or you're a total fucking knobjockey.
>In other words: drivers, please stop >at pelican crossings for pedestrians. >Somebody's gonna get hurt one of >these days.
On this, we can agree. Every day of my existence in the supposedly enviro-friendly city of St. Paul, MN, was threatened by the solipsism of SUV drivers.
Thanks for the heads-up, by the way.
David Duff is a lovely fellow - after all, who wouldn't be glad to smash a fellow human being's body to a bloody pulp if the circumstances permitted?
Unfortunately, Snotty's scenario requires 'an important guy', not a desparate, washed-up old spiv.
'Anon' has difficulty reading due in large part to his shivers and shakes induced by the fear that, like a furtive visitor to a porn shop, some-one might recognise him despite his anonymity, thus he implies (from his imagination because no-where did I write it) that I would be "glad" to smash a human being. As I clearly indicated, I was merely attempting, in my good-natured way, to satisfy my old friend 'Snotters' fantasy. It's a shitty job, but some-one has to do it!
Now, what's your fantasy, 'Anon'? On second thoughts, don't bother!
David Duff has an ardent desire to smash two tons of speeding metal into the body of a willing participant.
The parallels between this and the recent case of the German cannibal, who also trawled the Internet for willing victims, are frankly chilling.
He attempts first to backtrack, questioning the interpretation of his disgusting remark. He then attempts to put the offending remark in some spurious 'humourous' context, in the vain hope all those who have already read his original post and recoiled in horror will be beguiled by such nauseating wordplay - as though everyone should consider murder to be a laughing matter.
Is it really any wonder that the person who points out such vile disregard for human life would wish to remain anonymous? It is surely a brave man who dares cross David Duff, even from the tenuous saftey of anonymity.
I should sit down for a while, 'Anon', I think you're having one of your funny turns again. Well, not exactly 'funny' because, of course, your sense of humour transplant didn't take, did it?
His sick, venomous hatred shows again. Why does he assume this is an attempt at humour? Murder is NO lauging matter.
Consider that this man used to SELL his 'weapon of choice' - and tremble!
Fucking hell. I turn my back for two seconds and look what happens.
Myself, I don't require good taste in my humour, only that it be fucking funny.
That's my beef with Duff in a nutshell. Oh, and the whole being a fucking racist cunt thing, too. I nearly forgot.
Ah don't mind me Snotty, I don't give a shit either. Just having a bit of fun with the bedwetting old tosspot throwing his whole "evil bionoc lenin vile bile hatred blah I'm so fucking holier than the trot-lot" shit back at him and seeing if it sticks.
Plus he really fuckin' hates it when anonymous people accuse him of being a nasty shit, yet he loves it when it happens to someone else. Course it's different for Duff is so fucking hilariously old and wise and clever and ironic and witty when he talks about killing people.
"Oooh, sit down 'anon', you seem a bit flustered, wait while release an flowery-worded risposte which will fill the drawing room with mirth and make the ladies blush, for I am so very erudite for I have read the bard."
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