Forums / Fun! / Riff-Raff

303,520 total conversations in 8,654 threads

+ New Thread


The Cravin'

Last posted Oct 17, 2012 at 02:28PM EDT. Added Oct 16, 2012 at 06:57PM EDT
20 posts from 11 users

Once upon an afternoon dreary,
while I wandered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious
assortment of consenting whores,
While I hardened, nearly fapping,
suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping,
rapping at my bedroom door.
“’Tis some relative,” I muttered,
“tapping at my bedroom door -
Only this, and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it
was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember
wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;
vainly I had sought to borrow
From my onanism surcease of sorrow,
sorrow for the lost porn-
For the rare and radiant thing
whom the netizens called porn-
Wiped from my HD for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
“’Tis my mother entreating entrance at my bedroom door -
Some relative entreating entrance at my bedroom door; -
This it is, and nothing more.”

Against my own intuition, I attributed it to superstition,
anon I was back in my bed, attempting an emission.
Now the tapping grew even more and more intense,
and my mind ceased attempting to make sense,
This is when the clock struck four.

Presently my soul grew stronger;
hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam,
truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was fapping,
and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping,
tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”
(here I opened wide the door)
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering,
long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming wet dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Porn?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Porn!”
Merely this, and nothing more.

More to come, if you like my writing.

Last edited Oct 16, 2012 at 06:58PM EDT
Oct 16, 2012 at 06:57PM EDT
Quote

jesus christ patrick

jesus

christ

(when can we expect an entire pornographic adaptation of The Pit and The Pendulum?)

Last edited Oct 16, 2012 at 07:01PM EDT
Oct 16, 2012 at 06:59PM EDT
Quote


So beautiful

Oct 16, 2012 at 07:00PM EDT

Bitch, please.

I just wrote a 1,000 page novel about a dude trying to kill a whale.

And all you can churn out is some swill about jacking off.

Get on my level.

Oct 16, 2012 at 07:00PM EDT
Quote

I need a bondage adaptation of “A Cask of Amantillado”.

Oct 16, 2012 at 07:03PM EDT
Quote

Fridge wrote:

Bitch, please.

I just wrote a 1,000 page novel about a dude trying to kill a whale.

And all you can churn out is some swill about jacking off.

Get on my level.

My writing was for reals, your’s was sans feels,
and to be quite honest, your work rests at my heels.
If you spend less time looking for white dick,
you might find a writing style that actually sticks.
You’ve been served, Melville.

Oct 16, 2012 at 07:06PM EDT
Quote

Senpai-kun wrote:

My writing was for reals, your’s was sans feels,
and to be quite honest, your work rests at my heels.
If you spend less time looking for white dick,
you might find a writing style that actually sticks.
You’ve been served, Melville.


But you’ve all been served, for conforming to the tyranny of rhyme.

Oct 16, 2012 at 07:09PM EDT

You are all maggots, now THIS is the way you do it:
“Here’s a touchin’ story:

Once upon a time you died, and I lived happily ever after.

The end."
Sniper > every single author ever.
/thread

Oct 16, 2012 at 07:10PM EDT
Quote


>Know guy
>Guy is constantly an asshole to me
>I try to take his crap as best I can
>He goes even farther and starts insulting me
>That’s it this little shit’s gonna pay
>Meet him one night while he’s all drunked up
>Tell the guy I’ve got some booze in my basement
>He follows me like the idiot he is
>Go down to the basement
>“DUH THERE NO BOOZE DOWN ERE
>Chain him to the wall
>Leave him there to die
>That’ll teach you to be insult to me you little fuck

Last edited Oct 16, 2012 at 07:12PM EDT
Oct 16, 2012 at 07:10PM EDT
Quote

Senpai-kun wrote:

My writing was for reals, your’s was sans feels,
and to be quite honest, your work rests at my heels.
If you spend less time looking for white dick,
you might find a writing style that actually sticks.
You’ve been served, Melville.

aight nigga you wanna bounce les bounce

You best step off or you’re gonna get fried,
I make the classic shit, you cannot deny,
My diction’s a cure, your swill’s a disease,
The Masque of Red Death ain’t got nothing on these
Words, cause brevity may be the soul of wit,
But if all you write is poems then you ain’t worth shit,
So back up my nigga, just get the fuck out, cause
My White Dick be makin’ all the bad bitches spout
Swerve

Last edited Oct 16, 2012 at 07:24PM EDT
Oct 16, 2012 at 07:20PM EDT
Quote

You’re all a bunch of jokes except Tennyson.
I’m going to go back to writing Paradise Lost.

Oct 16, 2012 at 07:50PM EDT

madcat wrote:

I need a bondage adaptation of “A Cask of Amantillado”.

The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my rapacious soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitively settled -- but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish, but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong. In this case, the redressing involves undressing.

It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued as was my wont, to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile now was at the thought of his molestation.

It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.

I said to him -- “My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking today! But I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts.”
“How?” said he, “Amontillado? A pipe? Impossible ? And in the middle of the carnival?”
“I have my doubts,” I replied; “and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain.”

“Amontillado!”

“I have my doubts.”

“Amontillado!”

“And I must satisfy them.” (Among other things…)

“Amontillado!”

“As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi. If anyone has a critical turn, it is he. He will tell me” --

“Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry.”

“And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own.”

“Come let us go.”

“Whither?”

“To your vaults.”

There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in honour of the time. I
had told them that I should not return until the morning and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house. These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.

I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together on the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors. Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mold.

“Drink,” I said, presenting him the wine.

He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.

“I drink,” he said, “to the buried that repose around us.”

“And I to your long life.”

He again took my arm and we proceeded.

“These vaults,” he said, are extensive."

“The Montresors,” I replied, “were a great numerous family.”

“I forget your arms.”

“A huge penis, in a field azure; the head crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the shaft.”

“And the motto?”

“Verpae prævalébunt.”

“Good!” he said.

The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.

“Another draught of the Medoc?"

I reached him a flagon of De Grave. He emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand. Again I offered him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than flame.

Oct 16, 2012 at 08:09PM EDT
Quote

At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use in itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.

It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to pry into the depths of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not enable us to see.

“Proceed,” I said; “herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchesi”

“He is an ignoramus,” interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels, thinking, ‘He may be an ignoramus, but soon I’ll be in your anus.’ In an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain- from the other, a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded to resist . Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.

“The Amontillado!” ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.

“Yes,” I replied; “the Amontillado.”

Presently, I pulled out my “trowel”, and proceeding in taking off Fortunato’s vestments, leaving just his hat.

“Wh-what’s the meaning of this?”

I had scarcely inserted the tip of my member when I discovered that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry. It was NOT the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate silence as I plowed on. I heard the furious vibrations of the chain, pleasing me with a sadistic pleasure almost orgiastic in nature. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I went deeper, and deeper. When at last the clanking subsided, I started working with the mortar, patching the niche into a new wall, Fortunato gasping for breath inside. I again paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.

A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated- I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier (my actual sword, mind you), I began to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall. I replied to the yells of him who clamored. I reechoed -- I aided -- I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamorer grew still.

It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth, and the tenth tier. I had finished a portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight; I placed it partially in its destined position. But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognising as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said-

“Ha! ha! ha! - he! he! A very good joke indeed an excellent lay, as well! We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo! he! he! he! Over our wine! he! he! he!”

“The Amontillado!” I said.

“He! he! he! he! he! he! Yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting late? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato and the rest? Let us be gone.”

“Yes,” I said “let us be gone.”

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, MONTRESOR!”

“Yes,” I said, “for the love of God!”

But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud --

“Fortunato!”

No answer. I called again-

“Fortunato!”

No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it fall within. There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick -- on account of the dampness of the catacombs. I hastened to make an end of my labour. I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I reerected the old rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them.

In penis requiescat!

Oct 16, 2012 at 08:10PM EDT
Quote

BalisticDerr wrote:


>Know guy
>Guy is constantly an asshole to me
>I try to take his crap as best I can
>He goes even farther and starts insulting me
>That’s it this little shit’s gonna pay
>Meet him one night while he’s all drunked up
>Tell the guy I’ve got some booze in my basement
>He follows me like the idiot he is
>Go down to the basement
>“DUH THERE NO BOOZE DOWN ERE
>Chain him to the wall
>Leave him there to die
>That’ll teach you to be insult to me you little fuck

>hear his voice, telling you that you got him good
>voice joins you in a cheers to the heavens, and invites you back to party
>remember he’s dead.
> Immediately feel like a dick afterwards.

I just got done reading that story today in class.

Oct 16, 2012 at 08:12PM EDT
Quote

BalisticDerr wrote:


>Know guy
>Guy is constantly an asshole to me
>I try to take his crap as best I can
>He goes even farther and starts insulting me
>That’s it this little shit’s gonna pay
>Meet him one night while he’s all drunked up
>Tell the guy I’ve got some booze in my basement
>He follows me like the idiot he is
>Go down to the basement
>“DUH THERE NO BOOZE DOWN ERE
>Chain him to the wall
>Leave him there to die
>That’ll teach you to be insult to me you little fuck

What was that story again? (Reply to me)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OH SHIT, WE GOT A CLASSICAL RHYME BATTLE OVER HERE!!!

Oct 16, 2012 at 08:16PM EDT
Quote

MDF wrote:


aight nigga you wanna bounce les bounce

You best step off or you’re gonna get fried,
I make the classic shit, you cannot deny,
My diction’s a cure, your swill’s a disease,
The Masque of Red Death ain’t got nothing on these
Words, cause brevity may be the soul of wit,
But if all you write is poems then you ain’t worth shit,
So back up my nigga, just get the fuck out, cause
My White Dick be makin’ all the bad bitches spout
Swerve

Thou sound possessed, or just idiotic as I first guessed.
Perhaps this post was merely made in a friendly jest,
Or perhaps with the gift of writing you weren’t blessed.
Mayhaps you wanted to get some anger off your chest.
No matter what you were doing, my friend, that sucked.

If you want to battle, choose your words shrewdly
Poetry isn’t something to be used so crudely,
And was never meant to be used so rudely
I mean that attempt at cleverness was just lewd, see?
Keep trying. I’ll be busy showing you mother my seminal duct.

Last edited Oct 16, 2012 at 09:02PM EDT
Oct 16, 2012 at 09:01PM EDT
Quote

Senpai-kun wrote:

MDF wrote:


aight nigga you wanna bounce les bounce

You best step off or you’re gonna get fried,
I make the classic shit, you cannot deny,
My diction’s a cure, your swill’s a disease,
The Masque of Red Death ain’t got nothing on these
Words, cause brevity may be the soul of wit,
But if all you write is poems then you ain’t worth shit,
So back up my nigga, just get the fuck out, cause
My White Dick be makin’ all the bad bitches spout
Swerve

Thou sound possessed, or just idiotic as I first guessed.
Perhaps this post was merely made in a friendly jest,
Or perhaps with the gift of writing you weren’t blessed.
Mayhaps you wanted to get some anger off your chest.
No matter what you were doing, my friend, that sucked.

If you want to battle, choose your words shrewdly
Poetry isn’t something to be used so crudely,
And was never meant to be used so rudely
I mean that attempt at cleverness was just lewd, see?
Keep trying. I’ll be busy showing you mother my seminal duct.

>I never wrote that

Oct 17, 2012 at 12:53PM EDT




They say in 2012 a comet’s comin’ for this planet
Come to kill us
When it kills us, man, I hope I’m playing Madden!
It’s a sadness that John Madden gets outsold by shit like Halo
Halo’s lame and Madden’s great
That’s why I play it every day
So good a game in fact they made it back in 1988
And 24 years later still the greatest ever made
So thank you EA, for giving us this game
To Lord Madden in the skybox, to whom I pray

Madden’s back again, year 2012
Put those other 23 shitty games on the shelf
You know every damn year this game comes out
But this year’s the best, no question, no doubt

Madden’s back again, year 2012
All you 2011 fans can burn in Hell
Mayans said 2012 is the end of the Earth
So take me away, I got my sixty bucks worth

Who’s got more fifty dollar bills than me
Bullshit!
You know he really doesn’t, that’s a load of shit
I’ve got the most, put it on toast
Spread it around, I sell games coast to coast
I travel the same, on all four wheels
I don’t ride on airplanes, I eat my meals
Turducken is a big ol’ turkey on a plate
Stuffed inside a duck, stuffed inside a great lake
Oh man, that’s the size of my waistband
Come on inside my big-ass RV minivan
I got a full size bathtub
You know I don’t get paid in cash, I get paid in cold cuts
I’m a record beater
I’m a closet eater
I ain’t no leader-board high-score fuckin’ cheater
My game’s the best, that’s a fuckin’ fact
And if your dick starts itching spray it with Tinactin, boom!

Welcome back to class, and we’re your teachers
Time to school you noobs on these badass new features
You can’t sprint this year, know what I’m sayin’?
(Custom throwing animations)
What’s this new game I’m playing?
Kick off from 35, ‘cause that’s a big deal
Now players get concussions, whoa, shit just got real
That’s all the new features! That’s all they got!
… It’s better than ever!

Madden’s back again, year 2012
Put those other 23 shitty games on the shelf
You know every damn year this game comes out
But this year’s the best, no question, no doubt

Madden’s back again, year 2012
All you 2011 fans can burn in Hell
We didn’t do a song last year ‘cause we knew ’12 was coming
And maybe Madden’s even got ’13 in the oven!
(Who knows!)

Last edited Oct 17, 2012 at 02:30PM EDT
Oct 17, 2012 at 02:28PM EDT
Quote
Skeletor-sm

This thread is closed to new posts.

Old threads normally auto-close after 30 days of inactivity.

Why don't you start a new thread instead?

Hauu! You must login or signup first!