IRC-Galleria

kiitos oikein kovasti, muuta en vaadi
tässon nyt 7 päivää menny ja kolmesti räjähtäny et MOIIIII♥
lävistäjäki katto huolissaan että mitävittua ja käski lopuks haistattaa kavereille pitkät paskat ♥

Imagine the most solitary place you can imagine. The most isolated, lonely location you can possibly conjure up: a claustrophobic, dirty cell; the peephole in the door forever unused; an island eternally floating in a sea of darkness, the shadows hiding everything you can, and can't, see; a quiet, wind-whipped plain where no directions exist; a desert landscape, all sound muffled by the driving winds and buffeting sands, where half-seen shapes roam the horizons.

Imagine spending an eternity there. Terrifying thought, isn't it? Mull it over for a while. An existence with no beginning and no end, alone with your mind and nothing else.

Right now, it's a scary scenario.

When you get to the afterlife, it won't just be a scenario anymore.

kävin äske lekurissa, olin tasan 8 paikalla, oisin olettanu että oisin ollu eka, vaan ei.. kolmas :D sitten sain odotella puoli tuntia yksikseni tyhjällä käytävällä taas pelonsekasin tuntein että joudun taas tohtori stratogaster pargaloun kynsiin opettamaan sille suomen kielenalkeita ja kertomaan miten ne laput täytetään..
MUTTA EI.. Jotain vielä pahempaa.. kaksi . (HUOM. KAKSI), venäläistä naisläääkäriä joista toinen osasi sanoa hjyvää huomenta ja toinen murtaen suomeavenäjääviroa ja japania..
SIIS MITÄ VITTUA
meinasin revetä siinä penkillä ku molmat iski stetoskoopinsa meikän rintaan, sitten ne käsikädessä koputteli mun rintalastaa, ja molemmat kurkkasi suuhunkin.. teki mieli sanoa että älä sä khuule puutu mun asiohin :DD


-no voiko se olla esim kehkoputkentulehdus koska mulla on ollu paljon niitä
+ mjoo, voi sje ola .mutta ei se ole

+no jos me otamme sinusta sydänfjilmi
-no eihän mun sydämmessä ole mitään vikaa, tai ainakaan ei äsken ollu
+ juu , ei olekaan

+tjämä on selvästi tietzrn oireyhtymä, ainakin veikkaan (kolleega ilmottaa olevansa samaa mieltä)
-just, annaku arvaan, syä buranaaa?
+mjoo, syö burana, se kipu voi kestää pitkäänkin, mutta et sinä kuole...
...mutta toisaalta verikokeet voisi olla... et sina kuole


MEIKÄLLÄ ON VARMASTI SYÖPÄ
niin vittu odotin että se ois kaivanu iilimadot ja kuppausvehkeet tiskin alta sillä aikaa ku kolleega ois lyöny samovaarin tulille ja balalaikat soimaan

VJENÄLÄLÄINEN MJALBORO

http://www.palonen.org/index.php?entry=entry070203-164925

There is a small island in the Mediterranean Sea that does not appear on any map. It cannot be seen from any other island, nor can any other land be seen from it. On this island is a lighthouse, rotting from age and sea water, which is never lit. There is nothing inside it, save for a spiraling staircase that leads to the top, and an ancient, dusty bookcase.
The case is filled with unmarked books; bound in ancient leather, save for a single space. If you remove a book from the shelf, it will fling itself open in your hands, and the words inscribed in it shall start screaming to the air. You must wrestle the book closed and shove it back on the shelf, or the immortal evil contained within its pages shall break free, and you will be forced to take its place, with pages, ink and binding crafted from your own flesh and blood.
However, if you bring the correct book to the island, and place it in the empty space, the lighthouse will light. As long as it is lit, the world shall enjoy an unending paradise, for all the evil in the world will be contained in the lighthouse. And while it is lit, nothing can go in or out.
The only problem; you will be trapped for eternity with all the evil ever known or conceived, by man or god. And the only way to escape is to douse the light.

Niin. Eli minulla on siskon pyörä, jonka lukon avain on itse asiassa Lontoossa, siellä missä sisko asuu.
No päätän käyttää siis sellasta vaijeri- tai putkilukkoa (tai mikä onkaan), johon minulla on avain.
Menen kouluun. Laitan ajauksissani pyörän OIKEAN lukon kiinni. Ylläolevassa kuvasarjassa näkyy, millaisia tunteita se minussa herätti.

ps. Kyllä, se on vieläkin siellä koulunpihalla...
pps. Ei enää onneksi :_

---

D

Haha en oo nukkunu koko yönä.

I demand my headphones. täs on jo kuukaus pyörähtäny kohta.

You were out of town for the weekend. When you came back to your apartment, your mailbox was stuffed full. At least 30 letters. Letters with no return address, several of them felt soggy and heavy, as though they were recently wet, or perhaps contained a liquid. All of the letters have your name and address written on them, and many of them had your name scratched all over them in red in. They don't smell nice, they smell like rotting meat and old garbage and you're reluctant to take them back to your room, but curiosity gets the better of you.

So you manage to cart them all back to your room, you dump them in your kitchenette sink because you don't want them smelling up the rest of the apartment. You grab one that doesn't seem damp and isn't covered with writing, and open it up. There are pictures inside. Pictures of people you don't know, with their eyes torn out, teeth missing, unhinged jaws hanging open, throats ripped out. You're horrified and yet you can't help but wonder what's in the rest of the letters. You open more, and more to discover increasingly gruesome photos of dead people. Piles of bodies with limps missing, splayed open corpses on operating tables with their vital organs removed, hanged bodies that have been gutted and bled dry. Some of the soggy letters had blood and other fluids in them. The more letters you open, the more you notice that not all of the people are strangers. Some of them were people you see at work, others people you went to high school with. By the time you get to the last few letters, the pictures are of the mutilated bodies of your close friends and family members.

Eventually you reach the last letter. You don't want to know what's in it, but it's not like you have a choice now. You peel the letter open, and it's a picture of yourself. Not dead, eyes intact, no limbs missing. It's a picture of you entering your apartment building earlier that day, shortly before you collected your disgusting letters. As you hear a door elsewhere in your apartment open, you black out.

keksikää toho joku teksti -> http://i40.tinypic.com/w7hb4n.gif :|