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I’m sorry, I don’t know that- but I think where you are from is not a secret anymore…
I’m sorry, I don’t know that- but I think where you are from is not a secret anymore…
OOPS !!!! someone made a little mistake!!
…. How come there is now one posting this weekend… man!!! there has only been 6 posts to day!!
More posts… come on! 
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“to air is human” or is it “the air is human” ?? matt Gideon “Crusade”“Look for me by the moonlight-
Watch for me by moonlight-I’ll come to thee by the moonlight,
though Hell should bar the way”
——-The Highwayman
Excerpt from “Exquisite Corpse” by Poppy Brite
“Late in the year,New Orleans still has its hot days. In the slave quaters, Jay and Tran blossomed like the giant stinking carrion-flowers that grow in humid jungles. Their ravaged abdomens swelled and burst like red-petals, a jubliee of rot. Their putrescent fluids pooled on the concrete floor and in the hollows of their disintegrating bodies. …Their faces, c**** and B**** grew into shapeless masses of blackened flesh. Swollen tongues like ball gags forced their jaws wide. Organs tumbled out of their bodies like distended winebags. From their decomposition rose wisps of steam and soft wet sounds of gaseous intimacy….Tran fell out of his binding straps and melted slowly into Jay’s ribcage. A large, faintly iridescent stain ate up the concrete floor around them. Their eyes were black caverns.They gave birth to worms, generation after generation, until their bodies were covered as if in a living blanket. Soon they were picked clean, their bones an ivory sculpture-puzzle shining in the dark, waiting to tell their mute love story.
OOPS !!!! someone made a little mistake!!
…. How come there is now one posting this weekend… man!!! there has only been 6 posts to day!! More posts… come on! ——————
“to air is human” or is it “the air is human” ?? matt Gideon “Crusade”“Look for me by the moonlight-
Watch for me by moonlight-I’ll come to thee by the moonlight,
though Hell should bar the way”
——-The Highwayman
Excerpt from “Exquisite Corpse” by Poppy Brite
“Late in the year,New Orleans still has its hot days. In the slave quaters, Jay and Tran blossomed like the giant stinking carrion-flowers that grow in humid jungles. Their ravaged abdomens swelled and burst like red-petals, a jubliee of rot. Their putrescent fluids pooled on the concrete floor and in the hollows of their disintegrating bodies. …Their faces, c**** and B**** grew into shapeless masses of blackened flesh. Swollen tongues like ball gags forced their jaws wide. Organs tumbled out of their bodies like distended winebags. From their decomposition rose wisps of steam and soft wet sounds of gaseous intimacy….Tran fell out of his binding straps and melted slowly into Jay’s ribcage. A large, faintly iridescent stain ate up the concrete floor around them. Their eyes were black caverns.They gave birth to worms, generation after generation, until their bodies were covered as if in a living blanket. Soon they were picked clean, their bones an ivory sculpture-puzzle shining in the dark, waiting to tell their mute love story.
I think we used to have a Lexxian from Denmark
I think we used to have a Lexxian from Denmark
Ah yes.. there may be another too.. memory ain’t what it’s never been you know.
Ah yes.. there may be another too.. memory ain’t what it’s never been you know.
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