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The Narrator's Apprentice

Member Since 15 Aug 2004
Offline Last Active May 09 2007 03:53 AM

Posts I've Made

In Topic: Reporters note difference in 360/PS3 graphics....

23 September 2006 - 03:23 PM

Clayman reiterated later in his blog, "Not only do the clothes flow realistically along with the throbbing veins in my character's forehead, but I could faintly see the little white hairs on Sharpova's evenly tanned tush."

After a fifteen minute break, where each reporter was given five minutes alone with the game, Clayman emerged from his private lair, veins throbbing, and added, "I can also verify that she keeps it very trim on the carpet."

Asked whether or not he was concerned about the lack of vibration tech in the new Sony controller, David replied, "When you can see the real-time rendered sweat coming off her as she bounces up and down the court, it gives a new meaning to the term 'dual shock'."

In Topic: Former Governor McGreevy (D) NJ Admits Anonymous Gay Sex at Truck Stops

29 May 2006 - 05:55 AM

PAD pulled down his PKzipper until his phallic phalange was fully freed. He couldn't believe this was the moment The Pripp3rman would come out of, or into, his closet. Pripp3r latched onto his lingam, longingly licking the love organ.

Mykes mascerating mandible could barely contain the culminating coitus on display before him. He dared not peek, and swore he would not, but the urge was too enormous, and the payload too sweet.

PAD let loose in the light, and mykes spread fingers allowed a glimpse of the concocktion as it spewed into the ether. The smell of saline filled the room and all were satisfied, especially PAD who had been beaten senseless yet again.

In Topic: Congratulations America! You're Done Paying for the Spanish American War

29 May 2006 - 05:32 AM

Obtuse as it was, the point was not well taken by LoPrimero, the not-as-famous alter ego of a locally reknown superhero. He couldn't quite come to terms with the existence of such absurdity in a world supposedly bound by logical laws. But he fluxed his capacitors and wrapped himself around the situation.

"He seems to be in diametric contradiction to Descartes," he mumbled between sips of Sandropol. He walked to the kitchen and put on another pot of water. When he returned, the anathematic enigma had again spouted another spurious sapropel into thin air where it waffed, waiting for attention, like a lonely child craves a mother's scolding. LoPrimero had identified the underlying psychological motive and quickly rebuffed petulance with an observation without repremand.

For this was LoPrimero's super power. A power his collegues did not posess - the power to ignore his own emotion and remain even tempered in the face of all crises. Never had such superhuman powers been displayed, and never had they been completely unobserved by the casual user. Hate slid off his lapel like a lead shot off the Merrimack.

Thus is the understated greatness of Winston LoPrimero. To have the ability to report the real, leave no trace, and no bad after taste. He tastes good like a cigarette shoud !

In Topic: Say...that controller looks familiar.

26 May 2006 - 12:42 AM

Strell tightened his robe and rose from the submissive, kneeled position. He had almost dared to accept the similarities of the apocryphal remote invention as originating from somewhere other than the Nord himself. Although he did not completely submit, nor admit as such to another sole, the shadow doubt cast into his psyche was enough to warrant a flaggelation. The blood snailed to the small of his back and soaked the garment. Along with the stinging burn, the cool evaporative sensation waffed between his arms as he typed. The pain was a sadistic kind of pleasure and reinforced his faith in the one, true Creator.

"I am your servant", he murmered, working through the pain as it lifted his spirit. It gave him the strength to shun the blasphemous and keep the non-believers at bay. Still venerable to attack, the propagation of the prosthetic proselytization was warranted and must continue.

In his best prose, and a quick genuflect, he began with, "I know you are but what am I...?"

In Topic: Chris Matthews accepted hefty speaking fees from conservative groups

10 March 2006 - 06:45 AM

Having to contemplate his own life, EZB sat motionless in his seat, recounting the endless days of being on the take from those evil, right-wing parental units that pervaded every aspect of his existence. "Surely I don't subscribe to all the conservative ideals contained in Golf Digest just becuase dad has a subscription," he thought out loud to himself. "I'm my own man". "And just becuase my mom eats Big Macs doesn't mean I approve of the destruction of the environment, does it ?"

No, he thought again to himself, knowing full well his conscience was going to hover around him for the rest of his encounter, directing his every move, every decision, every thought. He whipped out the twenty that dad gave him for a good time this weekend and had no reservations about spending it as he saw fit. Dirty as it was, it still spent like any other twenty he'd ever laid down for a good time.

"I guess it doesn't matter where it comes from, as long as it comes," he lamented between pants.

"Damn right, E-Z," said Sheryl, frantically forcing her hand over the shaft leaving only a spent E-Z in the driver's seat, and the spent twenty in her breast pocket. "it's not easy being green," she said as she slammed the door behind her, " but it better than being easy, or a sucker."