|formorian, jotun, grigori (three tribes, one broken, one found, one uplifted)
||[Oct. 11th, 2004|09:42 pm]
|||||crown me king- hemlock, socrates!||]|
well so he tosses his eye down the well, & gets to see the future. guess what, pal? i could've told you that war was coming for free. old grey cloak, old hang man. but what the fuck, see if i care. the wolf is coming for you, you old fuck. your rainbow will crumble, i'll see to it. its nothing personal. well, it is, i guess. malice. but nothing would be diffrent if it wasn't personal. see if it would, you fucking oracle. oh hell, what am i wasting breath on your for, icicle dick? you're yesterday's news. die knowning that what you built, you built in vain. & may the fucking jotuns flourish in the debris remaining after i am gone. let them inherit the world, if there are ashes enough left.
today, oh hear me herald of manwe! today i partied with miss priss, the t-rex formally of queens & now queen of hotlanta. we rolled on the pussycat, we pounced on dusk. see how the paper tigers of manhattan trembled? it is there way (servile as they are!) also, we collaborated (i was the "brains" & she the "deep pockets") on a present for messire raven "cosmic boy" face. boy did he flutter jolly-like to be so well though of. there was some kettles stewing, but they were quickle defused by agents long wise to the game. cipher, cipher. lets just say: "he's the hamburger helper glove. & he's fucking pissed."
post script: so yeah i beat superman by virtue of forfeit, by dint of out living him. its still a win.