| 21st June 2004 - 02:26:38 AM |
| 7843 : Wisconsin |
| What a bunch of cheesey turd holes are we!! |
| 21st June 2004 - 02:32:25 AM |
| 7844 : Central American Death Squad |
| We are very sorry to be learning of the passing of great REAGAN! With any luck, Ollie North and the gang will still find ways to rape and murder entire villages without obstruction. |
| 21st June 2004 - 02:33:34 AM |
| 7845 : Mortimer Shid of Osucka, Japan |
| Yes friends this is true: the story you read is about an initiation, and one enjoyed be all here in Wisconsin where I am now visiting. Wisconsin is almost as bad as that shithole, Philadelphia!! Do NOT GO TO PHILLY AS IT'S FILLED WITH ASSHOLES DRIPPING WITH CHEAP MUSTARD GAS!!! Get it, Shitheads!!! OK here's the secret initiation, and one that da CHACH knows all about since this is where he lost his little nuts::::::::: The pledges are marched into the torture chamber, being forced to skip as high as possible to "March of the Chocolate Soldier", an embarrassing experience in itself, and then down to the damp, dark and nasty basement over piles of dog turds and past walls dripping with sperm and vagina smears. They are lined up along the wall opposite uncomfortable chairs made of hickory wood and thorns, that have been arranged to face them, and they are told to "prepare their assholes for a serious exam" on a strip of cardboard boxes just sitting there like some Xmas tree left-overs. The lights are turned off, except for those pointed directly at the pledges, little spotlight trained upon the flacid sex organs, some beginning to perk up and look happy, and the Ranch hands take seats to watch the beginning of the ritual that marks the opening of pledge week, accompanied by much laughter at the pledge-boys trying to tongue-fuck each other, do the "Skip the weed" game, and hold more than 25 ice cubes up each of their butt-holes while running in a large dark circle. "Shit, I like to see these fuckers put through their worst sex nightmares", said one Ranch hand named Pig-fart. The lead Master with his golden locks and shaved scrotum, the membership chairman known as "Mimoo-Chocha, and the pledge master take turns addressing the pledges. The pledges are reminded repeatedly of the meaning of brotherhood and their duty to give completely of themselves, without boudaries, without giving a shit what will happen next even though they may be circumcized again and again with little pinking shears or with nail clippers, in order to prove their worth to be initiated into membership of the MJ Neverdowell Ranch, the following weekend. Among many other things, brothers are always loyal to one another's arm pits and never hide any cum sauce from their assholes or from one another including the toilet paper during one of those massive colonic celebrations when garden hoses are used for enema purposes and gin and tonics are poured into the waiting enema bags. And so, in order to get things started properly and off to a very amusing start--and in order to impress upon them how completely and entirely they must give themselves over to the house and the ranch hands desires--the pledges are required to get out of their little panties, while holding both hands over their heads. Hesitation is perceived, somewhat more than observed with not just a few pledges releasing urine into their panties with some of the yellow drips running down their legs and onto the turd-covered floor, and the pledges are again reminded that they have nothing to hide from those whom they would call "Shaft-buckets" or "Big Man IN" or even names like "Little Fly-by-night TURD". There are no fancy boys (those flaming little fags found only in Dustin's kitchen and around his bed during the sucking sessions) in attendance; there should be no problem undressing in front of those Masters with whom they will share all the filthy and sinful intimacies of THE DORM OF THE CULI, as they live and love together, sharing their lube bottles and vaseline jars along with making of gallons of poppers and snort, in the close confines of the bunk house; and if they have any reservations about submitting themselves totally to their brothers, they do not deserve to complete the rituals of torture, castration, skipping rope, dwarfing, ball cruntching, etc.. At last the pledges undress, quietly and quickly while a few Masters attack them with bull-whips and lances, some boys so nervous they fall over on their butts and are immediately stabbed in the groin. Their ruined clothing is collected, sorted into tubs of sulphuric acid, then whisked out of sight by the slaves of Madre Loki, those having been flown in for the event from Hawaii. The smell of lust and desecration fills the air. The pledges, now naked, are addressed by some of the other Masters, those dressed in long flowing gown with lillies in their hair and the clods of dirt within their pubic hair, probably from various sex-picnics at the pic trough.. These young boys stand at attention and listen to such outbursts as "Well, you little asswipes, YOU think you're going to get a fresh start with MY asshole and those silly little tongues of yours? When I'm through with you, you'll all look like you've been dragged through the sewage system and backwards." They are given a wholly inadequate preview of the events of the upcoming week, but none of it matters except for the fact that they must all stand naked and at attention, until, for whatever irrelevant reason, one of them begins to show an erection, one stretched to its limits. He is congratulated for being the first to prove that he is not ashamed of his body in the presence of his Masters who stroke his rod furiously then tie it up, surrounding its head and shaft with wet, drying noodles, and at this point the pledges are told some of the more unusual rules and contests for the coming week, such as "The Donkey Piss Contest". Most pertinent, for the moment, is that they are expected to sleep nude all week out in the snow, to wear no underwear until after they are initiated, and to wear no clothing at any time while they are in the ranch or bunk house or near THE KING OF ROCKS AND ROLLS. Several of the pledges show arousal by this point, and all the pledges are called front and center, one at a time, to have their cocks measured. Those who are already erect are taken first, which fosters sympathetic erections in some of the others.Those boys with no or minimal erections are tied to the wall, while Masters beat the cocks into "attention". One can hear the tears of remorse for miles. The rest are informed that they need to be measured before the ritual may continue, and that they must do whatever is necessary to help the process along, even if that means being chewed upon by MJ's rottweiler puppies. Each pledge's measurement is recorded with crayons and lipstick on a large slab of poster board, with several columns left for future measurements and for "Torture endurance at its best" results. Finally, the pledges are blindfolded. Over the blindfolds are wrapped large amounts of duct tape. They are told that this is necessary for the ritual, which must take place in the ROOM OF HORROR, which they are by no means permitted to see until they are initiated as full members in good standing. They are also instructed that, as mere pledges, they are not permitted to speak, sing any of the KING's songs or fart while in the shower, inside the ROOM OF HORROR, at any time--save for repeating the litany of the blood-oath of passion and thirst, of romance and smells. Once blindfolded, the pledges are given vodka shots down the throats and up the asses with large tubing They must toast their loyalty to the "Stains on the Wall" and the "Writings on the Toilet Seats". Naked and blindfolded, bleeding and in love with the event and with that penis connected to the guy behind each one, trying to enter a hungry hold, the pledges are taken, via an arduous and confusing route (as much as possible within the close confines of the bunk house) to the ROOM OF TORTURE up in the attic. They cannot see it, of course, but blackout curtains cover the windows, and the room is lit only by candles. Yet they can smell the candles and will feel their heat whenever they pass close by and when the wax is poured over their pricks and nuts, during the course of the ritual. The pledges are left standing at the back of the room, by the stairway, for the moment, as the brothers take their ordained places and begin to chant and dance around like a pack of lunatics at the Xmas Tree Celebration in the White House, singing "Bring on the Crisco, and Bring on the Boys". The pledges are called forward, one by one, in alphabetical order. Each is assigned two big and very nasty slave-masters, who are named 493770002789723, which must be remembered by the slaves or they are whipped for hours, but who will identify themselves to him in the coming days only as "Betty" and "Virginia". The big brothers stand beside the pledge/slave, who is gagged and commanded to keep silent, "no groans or whimpers or YOU DIE" and submit to what must be done. The procedure is not announced, so that each succeeding pledge will not know what is happening to his body--only that it is something deemed to be an important secret, with obvious pain and permanent stains, holes and smears. The big Masters then proceed to take a semen sample from each pledge, jacking him off into a test tube, which is carefully labeled and set aside for drinking (though the pledges do not know this). Even if the pledge fails to keep silent during this ordeal, it is never forgiven, so long ass so (hey, did someone write this true story when stoned or just fucked on the opiate drinks given to the slaves?) that the remaining pledges will be all the more apprehensive, when it is their turn. When all the pledges have yielded their jizz samples, they are formed into a circle, in a deliberately random order then told to bend over for an anal inspection with the darkest and dirtiest hole given an immediate enema of hot coffee or cocoa, with the inner globs allowed to shoot out on the other slave-boys. "We have taken your measure, turds," the lead master solemnly informs them, "and now you must take the sacred oaths of pride and devotion and love and panic: "Now repeat those four words after me or you will again be fucked silly". "You stand in a circle. To your right is one of your power-masters; you do not know which it is but you may call him "Betty" or even "Judy", for that is of no importance. To your left is another of your masters, and you call him "Cindy" or "Candy Cane"; you do not know which it is, for that is of no importance to us and your rewards will be those of severe branding and catheter insertions. The Big Boy to your right represents all of your Mastlers, little turds; the Big Boy to your left also represents all of your Gods of the Bedroom and Bath. As you take the oaths with each other, you share the oaths with each and every one of your fellow shit-boys." The slaves are reminded that they must say or do nothing that might reveal their own identity to either of their neighbors. Then they are instructed to reach to the right, to find the penis of this Master, even if that cock is covered with feces and piss, to take hold of it, firmly and confidently, stroking it and attempting to make it rock-hard in case this Masters wishes to bend his slave and fuck him at that moment--for there is no shame in what must be done to sanctify the filth on the floor, and the jizz dripping from the walls and the ceiling--and to lift the Master's penis to point upward as if the cock was smiling upon the event. Then they must reach to the left, just below the hand that is holding that Master's penis, and similarly, but gently, grasp that Master's testicles. The link produced around the entirety of the circle, is a double "Fudge-packers Circle" if there are an even number of slaves; a "Moebius" "Jerkie-Benders Phallus", if an odd number. (The odd number is slightly preferred, but, because it cannot have been guaranteed how many of the bids would be accepted that night, this cannot be controlled but guarentees that someone will be gang raped before the night is out.) The shit-boys are then informed that what they are doing is nothing sexual, with the cocks rock-hard and ready for action, oozing pre-cum, but merely the most fundamental symbol of the depth of their mutual perversions, their need to suck cock and get fucked until their butt-holes would sing Xmas carols, in one another, which forges an inseparable swollen gland here and there. Laughter usually accompanies all of this. The oaths are a so much bullshit, but the slaves know no better and think this is for real, when in fact it's just an excuse to get their panties down and their bodies prepared for some serious and much needed Master Sex. One or more of the Masters recites a line such as "Winkie Willy, Plop odor lim dim" or even the more famous "Yikes little Tykes, We'll get fuckered on our bikes"; and the pledges must repeat it in full voice, trying to singing it to the tune of "Over the Rainbow and through the Woods". This is the only time that they can grab another cocks or balls or even put their fists into another asshole, in the room, until after their torture sessions, which go on for over a year. They must never release their grasps on their neighbors' genitals until the bullshit is completed, and it lasts for quite some time depending upon the moods and amusements of the Masters and attendants. A candle is lit for each line of the oath, but it is quite a while before even the most astute of the pledges realize this, with the candle wax then being poured over the balls of every slave. In the darkness, the circle is broken and anal canals are entered while chests are massaged and pricks stroked to orgasm, and the brothers come forward for the ritual of Madre Loki, as written down by Dustin Diamond according to the wishes of GOD, THE TRUE KING OF ROCKS OFF. The pledges are accepted by the Masters with a kiss from each of the pet rattle snakes. And with the snake-kiss or vicious bite comes a touch somewhere upon the pledge's naked body preferably UNDER the nuts between the scrotum and the anal opening. Even the brothers do not know where others choose to touch the slaves, for this part of the ritual is only performed in utter darkness and using sharp knives, probes, kitchen spoons, garden hoses, electric cattle prods, metal enema tubes, etc.. They can only remember where it was that they were touched, when they themselves were new fuckie-boys. All leave the attic in the darkness and prepare for a night of celebration and orgies, with the ceremony opening: the ever increasingly painful screams in the night. +++++++++++++++++++++ |
| 21st June 2004 - 02:41:12 AM |
| 7846 : Saddam |
| Thanks for the weapons, dude! Rummy has a sweaty-ass hand shake! Anyway, the only WMD I ever had was that shit you gave me and then told me to use on the Kurds. Also, that CIA training I got during the sixties was top-notch! It was a crazy time. |
| 21st June 2004 - 07:54:56 AM |
| 7847 : White House DUD |
| LISTEN SADDAM....we don't like that kind of talk. AND WE DON'T LIKE MICHAEL MOORE. WHY???? Cause we want Disneyland fantasy and NOT THE TRUTH, not truth about the rest of the world. Let's go GET THAT OIL. It's OURS! and if we want it, THEN WE SHOULD HAVE IT. Pour that sauce into our oversized cars along with a good amount of GREED and contempt for everyone else. YOUR DECISION TO KILL 180,000 MEN WOMEN AND CHILDREN CALLED KURDS....yeh, so we GAVE you the poison gas, just as a present. Shit, Saddam, we thought you just wanted to keep it on your mantle piece as a GIFT from USA. Your call!! WE'RE THE FUCKING BEST...JUST ASK DA CHACH, JAY LENO, AND THE REST OF THE GANG!!!! |
| 21st June 2004 - 08:42:30 AM |
| 7848 : liberal faggot |
| hey guys, i like to toss the salads of america's terrorist enemies. i'm a limp-wristed fairy!!! i want to sit back and let the muslims take over the world and watch them kill all non-muslims because i'm too much of a pussy to fight back. i luv u!!!!!!!! |
| 21st June 2004 - 09:12:56 AM |
| 7849 : Jennie Jumper, \"I\'m in a slumper\" |
| Yes, liberal faggot, let's let the Muslims kill all of those ghastly non-muslims, cause those Arabs KNOW how to eat ass and fuck butt....NOT much for a good blow job...but HEY, everyone can learn. YOU sound like you need a good fucking, MAN....I'll send MOJO to the rescue. Here's a notice I just came across: HAS EVERYONE GONE MAD HERE? IT'S XMAS TIME AND THAT MEANS TIME TO REJOICE AND SHARE AND BE HAPPY EVEN THOUGH YOU MAY HAVE FECAL MATERIAL RUNNING DOWN YOUR LEGS. PRAISE THE LORD. PRAISE THE LITTLE DOORKNOBS OF LOVE. PRESS MY BUZZER AND BLESS JESUS!!! |
| 21st June 2004 - 11:01:44 AM |
| 7850 : Sara |
| Are you serious how can such a wealthy guy like dustin have such a terrible web page?? |
| 21st June 2004 - 01:02:25 PM |
| 7851 : Asshole Disaster |
| FOR YOUR INFORMATION, MISS KNOW IT ALL SARA::::::::dustin lost all of his money on male hustlers who could rim his asshole for hours and hours...and then he moved onto bigger and better things: So here's something to think about before you open your YAP again::::::::: Hey all Fuckfaces including YOU, CHACH!!! I don't know what I was thinking!!! I'm sorry Keri and Linda, and Joe the Schmoe, and Turdlet the Elephant Goy, and Tanna with the Red Fanna, your a whore, NOT A DOOR! I don't even know whi I'm here cause i'm fucking drunk on jizz floats. I fucking love Britane Spears, she's Nirvana! No, Queen. the scene for sure, Nanna Bezerka of Why-kiki and still looking for those stinky little brown submarines? They swing major ass!! And who cares who killed FLUFF, she was deaf and dumb and gooey all over, and only went out with Michael Jackson to cover it up!! cover your ass or i'll fuck it!!!!! |
| 21st June 2004 - 01:32:51 PM |
| 7852 : Wisconsin |
| I am offended. |
| 21st June 2004 - 01:34:23 PM |
| 7853 : Stankhole McFister |
| Fuck Sara! CHACH IS DA TOP NOTCH! This site is only for card carrying anus rippers you skid marked little skank. |
| 21st June 2004 - 01:43:52 PM |
| 7854 : Butt Sack |
| Brooke Sheilds is quite the flatulent lass. With chicken wings inside her ass. With semen crust and vaginal dust, She often will pass smelly gas! |
| 21st June 2004 - 01:54:17 PM |
| 7855 : Big Poo |
| OH...SNAP!!! |
| 21st June 2004 - 02:02:41 PM |
| 7856 : Fart-o-matic |
| Liberal faggot, you're probably not even a real faggot. I hope you get drafted, asshole. This site is only for homos, homophobes, racists, psuedo-racists, nutty right-wingers, nutty left-wingers, and people who fucking hate Wisconsin. Fuck you. |
| 21st June 2004 - 02:12:03 PM |
| 7857 : The First Amendment |
| Fuck Wisconsin. Fuck every last one of those ass sausage eating Amish fart horse cock suckers. Fuck Grandma Beavis right up her rotten, maggot-infested salad shooter. Fuck. Chili dog. |
| 21st June 2004 - 02:45:41 PM |
| 7858 : Chili Dog |
| Goddammit, Joe. The Amish don't live in Wisconsin. Answer my IMs goddammit. |
| 21st June 2004 - 02:55:07 PM |
| 7859 : Not Joe |
| I don't want to! Can you not use telphones, you Amish cunt? |
| 21st June 2004 - 03:17:54 PM |
| 7860 : Wisconsin MASTER, looking for shitheads like YOU |
| Ann Coulter: Just let me know who is calling me a lesbian? WHAT if I am? Just stop it now or I'll report you. Things can only get worse now, and you fans of mine what exactly what I'm talking about. First it all started with that pack of wild-fucker dogs and that attack on Mommy there in Tampa...and her strange behavior in the San Jose nut house...and then along came my second World Tour including Lima, Peru and that infamous Monkey Hut, where the fucking roof fell in while I was singing "Fascist Lovers" (you all remember that fabulous little song I wrote a year or so ago for Johnny Blee Johnie?), and since the MOJO, the owner of that property in Miraflores has been hassled by the local mafia. Shit, darlings, it was all a princess could do but haul ass and get outta there and through the worst escape in Peruvian history. Darlings, SMILES if you can, but that would have made the Inka escape nothing for the Spaniard bastards. Blessed Be....and then if that were not enough, Madre Loke wrote both Fluff and Me that she needed money for her drug bust there during that Beach Mass in Why-kiki(?) and on the way to the bank, I got attacked again by those damned dogs. Anyway as Juanito says: JESUS RULES FOR FUCKING SURE! Leave message and send those checks to bail us out of one mess after another. And do not forget: LUBRICANT IS NOT A STATE OF MIND! Blessed Be, Fuckers!! |
| 21st June 2004 - 04:15:20 PM |
| 7861 : Michael Savage |
| *******************SAVAGE_NATION_TRANSCRIPT**************** Michael Savage: Uh huh...your poo-hole, huh? Okay... Anne Coulter: Red and irritated. And the itching sensation inside the ol' cooter hole. That's it. MS: And I guess we have 'Slick Willy' to thank for all of this. AC: Of course. Once again, Michael. I told you how Mr. Clinton fuckered my keister purple and brown. He... MS: And where was Hillary during all of this? Where was Hillary? Probably getting fisheyed with Rosie O'Donnel and her Ellen DeDykerous brigade.(Laughs) Sean Hannity: Mike, do you want me to do it faster? Mike? Man it really smells awful down here. Toss me that gravy-scented lube oil. Throw up on my (indecipherable)... AC: I farted.(laughs) |
| 21st June 2004 - 04:15:59 PM |
| 7862 : LORD OF THE JELQ |
| This should make your panties fall to the floor, you dipshit driven scumbags; this should give you a lease on fucking boring life...GET WITH IT....don't forget: DUSTIN LOVED TO JELQ. STILL DOES:::::::: http://www.herbolove.com/community/bbs/guestbook.asp?category=25&user=7322 |