:: Empty dead babies; searchlights on. ::

:: Monday, November 08, 2010 ::

Hey everyone. I just wanted to point out that you should totally check out Lacuna Expanse. It's an awesome new browser-based real time strategy game. You can check it out by clicking here.
:: OwenF 5:43 PM [+] ::
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none.im a dumbass. i shouldnt hump anyone emo.


which emo singer are you destined to hump?
brought to you by Quizilla

:: OwenF 5:50 PM [+] ::
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The new rule: One line at a time. It's a teletypewriter.
:: OwenF 3:14 AM [+] ::
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GenocideFactor.com Links Page - The Genocide Factor, from the Bible to present day, is a production of Media Entertainment, Inc. Poo-tweet.
:: OwenF 2:30 AM [+] ::
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The City. Ancient beachhead. Metro astral network. Traffic corridors pulsate through logic gates of amber stoplights. Wet reflection on weathered tarmac. Binary gray moiré of pointillist mist wisps. Broiling Texas steakhouse; the fire sign. The waiter is American-style-friendly. The clerk’s façade. A terminal looser with nine years in the service gulag. The Cocaine Lady is delivered with studied seething . Oversized western steaks. Symbol of the great grain empire. Centre still raw, bloody to the touch. Orgasmic meat flap feast. “Eat raw meat an you can mate. Your offspring will have more meat flaps.” It’s a fight for survival in the stone downtown.

I hate the traffic in the city. It drives me to great self-satisfied excess, hollering foul curses down on the heads of the poor unfortunates who happen to be in my way. And jesus help the man who cuts me off. I value my car much less than other people value theirs, and this does help to make driving more satisfying,

:: OwenF 8:21 PM [+] ::
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Streaks of alien fire crisscross the ebony sky. Thunderous impacts of armageddon. Texas-size chunks of interplanetary debris tear gaping new asshole in the earth.
:: OwenF 10:58 AM [+] ::
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It's nice to have fans.
:: OwenF 10:50 AM [+] ::
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Beaten like the looser of a heavyweight boxing title fight. Bloody and broken.
:: OwenF 9:21 PM [+] ::
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Wet. Water rush of fluid explosion. Surface tension ruptures in fractal patterns and liquid subjectivity of free-form gravity seaps through. Liquid sunshine.

:: OwenF 9:19 PM [+] ::
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God's eyes. Empty with white like egg humour. Final dead eyes. Gravitational pockets absorbing local area entropy. Elusive and coy eyes. Patterns in grey mist, moiré of digital interference pattern. Viral software eggs. Plague-spreading humans, walking corpses, suicide typhoid marys, martyrs to allah.

The digital mind is locked in a horrible cubist reality. Existence is defined and limited by cardinal numbers, Latin script of roman decimal accounting. Formless thoughts.

:: OwenF 9:14 PM [+] ::
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Forget love. Forget money and power. Forget the alphabet and Agamemnon. Forget genesis and the apocalypse. Forget crayons and coca cola, pepsi and pizza. Forget uno and chess and checkers and backgammon; solitaire and poker and strip poker. Forget jesus and mantra and krishna and buddah. Forget the internet and telephones and telegrams. Forget sex and drugs and violence and rock and roll. Forget brahms and beethoven. Forget the masons and the illuminati, JFK and the space race. Forget nuclear winter and indian summer. Forget truth and freedom and virtue. Forget democracy and responsibility. Forget prohibition and rotting in prison. Forget keys and locks, doors, bars and gates.
:: OwenF 1:44 PM [+] ::
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A rock-and-rolling belt-fed maxim machine gun spits a rhythmic pulse of ear-shattering sonic calamities. Likewise, and rotating propeller blade beats out the steady drone of a helicopter's insect heart. As the two conflicting high-volume vibration oscillations ripple into each other and overlap, they create tiny tears in the flesh of reality. Plus, there're all those bullets to dodge.


:: OwenF 9:38 PM [+] ::
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