http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/ Holy feces! It's Jesus! Mon, 18 Aug 2008 01:35:00 PDT http://www.blogdrive.com Copyright 2008. Arts Occult & Paranormal Religion & Beliefs http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/155.html Sun, 17 Aug 2008 17:30:42 GMT When the Queen of Broken Hearts meets the Jack of Dreaming Fools The game begins The Jack goes all in on a Full House White picket fencetasies But the Queen lays down her Royal Flush The queen wins another broken heart The Jack dreams no more The game is over. http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=155 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/154.html Thu, 03 Jul 2008 18:26:47 GMT She asks to take a break to break you up Her reasons, a deceptive cadence Her underlying meaning I need not dictate She plays with her words the Fibo-nazi Antisemantic One thing I'm sure to bet, Sir is that you'll rue the day you met her For her beauty, her biggest asset Will make you the biggest ass yet. She is but a child so coy You are but to her a toy Which she would soon outgrow And what happens to old toys, you poor bastard? They wind up in the dumpster, Discarded But don't get me wrong I write no bitter song. Against her I cast no ill For... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=154 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/153.html Wed, 21 May 2008 07:25:04 GMT Her neck was smooth and white, like a sheet of plastic Stretched taut and tight, and just as elastic A familiar sight, reminiscent of a Dinty Moore Which, when punctured, seeps an ooze of gore My heart was beating in my breast As the blade broke through her chest A crunchy cracking through bone Like the crust of a fresh calzone From her scalp I tear Vast handfuls of Angel Hair “To the teeth,” so they say As if they grew out al dente As dessert, after the main I start picking at her brain Smooth and flavorful, with some gusto It beats the finest Italian gelato She is, if I were... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=153 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/152.html Mon, 21 Jan 2008 13:15:49 GMT … to unite the bride and groom in marriage In her wedding dress, white as a dove Her hand so soft, in that satin glove As I stood on the altar I thanked the heavens above For blessing me, with my one true love. The union you are about to enter today is the closest and most tender of all relationships in which human beings can come I have traveled the world, many a place I have been But never have I been happier than to be beside The woman whom I made my bride But now to the other side I must go Three weeks or less, the doctor told me so Though bewrought... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=152 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/150.html Sat, 18 Aug 2007 15:34:59 GMT If you think the scenarios of sentient technology is an inflated load of bunk, you're wrong. The following conversation shows that not only did the object in question achieve sentience, it also made a rational decision to escape pain and suffering. Note that for the privacy of my sister and the benefit of my reproductive organs, "cpy" is not neccessarily a username that my sister uses. The other usernames are my own. cpy says:anyway, my thumbdrive flew off my room window and i think a cat took it away ... cpy says:useless bugger If at first you can't suck seed; try, try again says:thats... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=150 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/149.html Wed, 20 Jun 2007 01:33:03 GMT You entrance me, You, like no other; Your countenance reminds me of that of my mother. I know to protect you from feelings of distress and sorrow But even more - especially so I must protect you from the feelings of my father I, so impressionable and Jung I, who once saw dung in ink blots now see anthropomorphic hearts throughwhich arrows stung You are the unconditioned stimulus of Pavlov's canine venture Your presence, the salivatory tingle, Your bell curves, the jingle My Id is in my Ego My destrudo, my libido You put me in constant repression You make me engage in somnambulistic... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=149 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/147.html Sun, 10 Jun 2007 09:26:43 GMT He found her in a store He couldn't refrain himself He made an offer And escorted her out the door Her lips were inviting Red and round Her skin was flawless She made nary a sound He told her he loved her She did not respond Still she did not reject His advances upon She was filled with his breath Which he gladly imparted Because she was worth La Morte Petite - his Little Death He needed a partner When prom night comes Who else would he have But her proudly on his arm But something went wrong He struck a needle through her chest And haplessly watched The life leaking from her breast He... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=147 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/146.html Fri, 25 May 2007 02:25:02 GMT It's been about six days since I've officially graduated and I feel like a doddering old retiree. I've moved to place not too far from Downtown Bemidji and have been pretty much walking down for coffee and lunch, and getting some reading done. And trying to get a job. Oh my Sentient Transcendent Anthropomorphic Being(s), TRYING to get a job. From the job fairs I've attended, a degree in Psychology is only useful for lighting an oil drum to ensure you don't freeze to death while sleeping in your cardboard box. Or appearing to be quasi-intelligent in referencing Freud. People like being told... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=146 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/145.html Sat, 17 Feb 2007 10:49:36 GMT I'm moved to write this after being asked the question presented in the title (or some variation of it) a number of times in the short time I've been here, based on the observation of some Malaysian students wearing swastika pendents. First of all the Swastika (also called the sun-cross or sun-wheel) was originally used as a religious symbol, now most commonly in Hinduism and Buddhism, long before Hitler's Beer Hall Putsch; which is also another over-generalization because there was also a whole lot of tschoving in addition to the putsching. And secondly, if the Malaysian youth wanted to... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=145 http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/archive/144.html Fri, 16 Feb 2007 10:57:52 GMT Cupid, sweet Cupid, in the sky a-heather How I wish I could pluck your wings off by the feather Cupid, oh sweet Cupid with your mother in tow I would like to strangle you both with the string of your bow But to waste a beautiful bow would be a sin So I should use it to bash your heads in Oh Cupid, you and your heart-tipped arrow I wonder how many it would take to core your arms to the marrow Sweet cupid You resemble a fallen angel By the way, did you know your wings are flammable? Dear Cupid Any last words before the machine starts? Before you're ground into little chocolate hearts Ah... (more) http://cruci-fiction.blogdrive.com/comments?id=144