Bending Over to Take It… Smile… All Will Be Well…

New slavery needs a place to stay
New slavery doesn’t have anything to say
Too many problems to fit in one sentence
Too many issues to blame on one thing
We say we are holy, We don’t live in sin
Yet we worship all the worst things in man
Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, and Greed
We wonder why we have nothing
Left wondering
Get off your knees

New slavery is lost in the distractions of the day
New slavery is divided with too many things left to say
Too many people still caught up on who is gay
Too many people still caught up on race
We say we are just, We don’t except intolerance
Yet we stand against our victims, condemn them with the rest
Allow our masters to get in the way
We look to the stars for some sign of God
The answer standing next to us all along
A united front of ignorance and bliss
We say one thing but really we could give a shit
Auto correct me if I’m wrong
Mirrored repercussions, actions on repeat
No American has ever been okay with retreat
Maybe things are different, too blind to see
But won’t deny it never existed at all

Not decided purely on race or color
Money the chains of the day
Fight among the ones that should unite
Doing everything our masters want
Deception the war we’ve always fought
Step out of line and leave your place, get left behind
The times they aren’t changing only getting worse
We think we understand, believe we are so woke
But we have no idea at all
New slavery has nothing to say
So we just keep slaving away

 

Silently Screaming

Rage of Hope (People with No Face)

Must make myself
Better
Must make myself
Beautiful
Must make myself
Needed
Scars across my face
Broken glass for teeth
Maggots crawl through my eyes
Not enough to despise (death’s embrace)

Must make myself something
More
Must make myself into something
Desirable
Must make myself feel
Whole
Embalming fluid in my veins
Sinister smile across my face
Broken nails in each vertebrae
Not enough (death’s embrace)

Must make myself
Better
Must make myself
Beautiful
Must make myself
Useful
Into a whore
Into more
Embrace deception
Become the lie
Never enough
Never whole
Always more

Death holding me down
The ground so wet
The world such a threat
Bleeding conscience
Pumping embers into my heart
Why does it have to hurt
Why does it have to matter so much
Death dances all around me
Death’s embrace closest thing to love

The ground trembles for fear of life
The world in a silent spin
Bleeding to live
No one cared enough to listen to me
No one cared why should they
Becoming something better than this
What it is they want me to be

Why does it have to hurt
Why does it have to matter so much

Death is nothing more than a change
Death’s embrace, Death’s last whisper
Silently screaming
All I am worth 
My beauty, my body, who I am on the outside
A life made up of uselessness
Finding purpose in nothing
Am I better now
Am I beautiful now
Am I whole now
That I know where I belong

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I don’t normally explain my poems… I feel it is up to the reader to decide what the words means… like a fucked up version of reading tea leaves… this one is a little different… This one I did that for myself… I found this poem in my notes… originally it was about me… selfish as I am… but as I was reading it… it reminded me of someone else… the whole thing took on a different meaning for me… you may have noticed the shift about midway through the poem… 

This poem reminded me of a woman I used to work with years and years ago… We were friends then… it was a weird time… I was too self-absorbed in my own bullshit to really process what it was that she was telling me… the short and private version of this story is that she was raped… But that wasn’t what stuck with me… it was her lack of caring about what had happened to her… I asked her if she reported it… and all she projected was this attitude that it didn’t matter… this kind of thing happens all the time… for the record it does and it shouldn’t… she was trying to be a model… was a model… she isn’t the type of person I normally hang out with… “someone who cares only about their looks”… like I said it was a weird time… 

I was young and I was stupid… I didn’t see beyond her looks… I judged her just like the rest of the world… thought she was full of emptiness… but really she was full of pain… same as me… we hung out a few times… but I couldn’t stand the fact that she would agree with everything I said… a trait I contributed to stupidity… a coping mechanism… I didn’t understand at the time… a fear that she didn’t have to convey around me… I wasn’t interested in hurting her… but when anyone can be the enemy… when anyone could hurt you… much easier to go along… to the point that you don’t even exist… we lost touch when I got a new job… part-time friends… her story still stuck with me…

 

Lemonade and Glass Goes On… Are You Listening?…

 

Day 1 and Day 2… or the last few months… 

Hello peeps! Yep, we are trying to post these a little more frequently. Wish us luck and enjoy our songs for this week.

Lemons

It is that time once again to add tracks to this monster list we are creating…

My new tracks… (Glass)

  1. All You Ever Wanted- The Black Keys
  2. All Night- Icona Pop
  3. Silenced- Mudvayne
  4. Wave of Mutilation- Pixies
  5. Cookie Thumper- Die Antwoord

Lemon’s new tracks (Lemons)

  1. Living Dead Girl – Rob Zombie
  2. Violent Pornography – System Of A Down
  3. Heart-Shaped Box – Nirvana
  4. Wicked Sensitive Crew – Dropkick Murphy’s
  5. Already Gone – Powderfinger

 

All Night by Icona Pop (Glass)

I noticed on my last set of songs I chose a lot of similar sounding or genre songs so, this month I decided to add more diversity… because really that is how I listen to music… all over the place…

What an Icona Pop song choice from the asshole with blood on everything?… yeah… I’m actually a big fan… I don’t know why… because I’m broken?… no idea… but this track I do know why I like it… It reminds me of my good friend Mel… or Melon… “We always dreamed about this better life”… and one day it will happen or it won’t but at least we have each other… 

 

Living Dead Girl by Rob Zombie (Lemons)

I have this very vivid section of my life. I remember I spent most of my time either wandering around the bush out the back or in my room reading and listening to music. 1998… I lived for the Bride Of Chucky soundtrack. This was my intro to Rob Zombie and many other artists. I would have actually picked another track from this album but it wasn’t on Spotify.  I could so easily just go back to this part of my life and relive it over and over again. Not because anything really amazing happened, but because it was just … nice. Little Lemons loved her creepy fantasy books and horror movies… oh, how times have changed….

This song also makes me car dance like a mofo. “Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable lust for the dead?”

(Don’t mean to steal your thunder… But I also love this video… this one and Dragula… any of his videos though…Glass) 

 

Silenced by Mudvayne (Glass)

This track is one of the few off their second album that I enjoyed and by the time their third album came out I was no longer a fan of them… they got insanely popular with the track Happy and I found myself pretending I never even heard of them… Their first album L.D. 50 is still one of the best albums I have ever heard…(Tracks to check out… ProdNothing to Gein… and Under My Skin…) I still listen to this album daily… the bass and drums on this track are amazing… and the lyrics are relatable… I love the use of silence in this track as well… “Listen here”… “I feel God damn nothing”… “Fuck you and everything you are”…

 

Violent Pornography by System of a Down (Lemons)

Shit, I love this song. Vulgarity steeped in that “Fuck the man” thing that System loves so much, it is just so damn good. Every time I listen to System of a Down, I find myself trying to test myself, trying to twist my lips and tongue around the words in the quick, rubbery way they do.

I listened to this album every day, in the car, to and from work for… too long. And I am still not sick of it. And this is one of those songs where part of me wants to turn it down because of the level of offensiveness, but the majority of me, the winning majority, just thinks… nah… and keeps singing.

 

That’s it for me this week… I guess you could say that I am silenced…

 

I, however, am not silenced. Which is no surprise to anyone. I think every time we post one of these it will be its own thing. I am not exactly the most consistent person. But, they will all have good music.

Lemons

 

 

Check back next Sunday when we finish out this list… in the meantime… enjoy the music… 

Ambrose (Glass)

 

 

Sympathetic to Your Needs

“Am I being recorded?”
“I hope you don’t mind. It is for journalistic purposes. Try to not let it affect you or your responses. Best to think of it not being there.”
“Okay.”
“So you wanted to tell me something about where you work and how it pertains to my story?”
“You won’t publish my name right?”

“Click,” I insert another tape.

“From my perspective, I don’t see why racism in America is even happening. I mean at what point do we move past it and grow as people?”
“I’m not too sure. That is why I am working on this piece. I want to find out what real Americans think about racism.”
“How many real Americans have you interviewed so far?”
“Quite a few. All walks of life, but I want to hear your side of the issue.”

“Click,” I insert another tape.

“I have been doing this a number of years.”
“Seems like it can be difficult talking to people. I’m not sure I could do such a thing.”
“It can be at times. The hardest part is staying objective to the subject at hand. Often find that there is way too much excessive talking. It becomes a distraction.”
“What is that?”
“Oh, this? This is nothing.”

“Click,” I insert another tape.

“Are you even a real reporter?”
“Of course I am.”
The sound of weeping. “Why are you doing this?”

“Click,” I insert another tape.

“You shot her in the fucking face. You sick fuck.”
The sound of rustling. “Just wait and see what I do to you.”
The sound of choking, sounds of a struggle. A faint whisper,” Please… help…”

“Click,” I eject the tape. “How many are there?” I ask. “How many what? Tapes or victims?” My partner asks. “Either,” I say as I put my cigarette out. I leave it resting in the ashes. Burying it with the others. “Hundreds of tapes, but we are still unsure of the number of victims. Been doing this for years. Some of the tapes are legitimate interviews as you heard. Others are as close to being there as you can get. I mean let your imagination run wild.” He stares at me as I light another one. I offer him one from the pack and he declines. “It makes you wonder why? Even after all these years on the force. Still left with the same question,” I reach for another tape. “The answer isn’t there or in any of these tapes,” my partner assures me. “No, but there are facts and facts leads to answers.”

“Do you think that this will make me famous?”
“It has been my experience that anything can bring you attention. But not all attention is good attention. To answer your question though. In this case, it might.” The sound of a power drill coming to life and screams washes over the recording.

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Wanted to try something new… A story that could only be done on the website… and about as close to a script that I want to get… It is hard to not write every action each voice or character is doing… My hat goes off to those of you who write scripts… I have no idea how you do it… drives me crazy… lack of control?… what does that say about me?… haha… 

Still selling bits of my soul over at Threadless and Amazon… Don’t worry… I’m as cheap as I can get… 

Too Big To Fit With The Rest

This was supposed to be with the very first post for Lemonade and Glass… Then it grew too large to shove in there… so I was going to cut it down… Then the shooting happened and well that didn’t pan out… two months too late…

 

Cruci-fiction In Space by Marilyn Manson (Glass)

Holywood was a pretty amazing album as a whole… just about any song on there is one of my favorite… I chose this particular track because of the haunting and spacey music… I also think that this track blends the overall concept of the three album concept that Manson was working on… I think Manson takes on a lot of shit for his image and music… I had the benefit of not being subjected or shown a lot of what Mason was doing until after the fact… Told Manson was the most god-awful thing… the devil… made it something I had to check out when I was finally able to get my hands on it… It became for me a forbidden secret that I was a Manson fan… Which in retrospect was pretty fucking hilarious considering my parents had no problem with me listening to Cradle of Filth… who literally have a whole concept album about Lucifer… nor did they have a problem with me watching violent horror films… or playing violent video games… What can I say the late nineties and early 00’s… music was the evil of the day…

Manson I think was something else… and what that was, was exactly what he wanted to be… Manson tricked America into giving him power… If you really look at what he did… he didn’t do anything… that was what was so crazy about Manson to me… tearing up a bible?.. Any rational Christians should be smart enough to know that the message of Christ is in your heart not in a book… I mean if you want something to be angry about… Who prints and sells the bible for a profit?.. Then there was the media and political lead crucifixion of Manson over Columbine… Again America put him up on the cross… Not the actions that took place that day… still having issues with gun control… school violence… bullying… in America today…

If you actually listen to or know of the concept of his three biggest albums… It tells the story of a rock star transcending to the point of something more… an Anti-Christ Christ figure… Told in reverse no less… The concept to me was the most interesting thing about Manson… his whole narrative of how America creates celebrity… creates a monster… was fascinating… to not only listen to but to watch play out….

Since I have attempted to write this post yet another school shooting has taken place… Yet again the media is to blame… Not the actions of the shooter, but the media that drove him to do it… It’s been over a week since the latest tragedy and I have yet to hear anything from the shooter… One interview where he is like I did this because of this or I was influenced to do this because… However, We have had a rather interesting escape goat worth of responses as to why this all happened…

We have all this blame on mental illness… We have a problem with mental illness in America and maybe the world I’m not sure, but mental illness is a very vague term… again we want to go on the defense against something rather than the issue itself… guns were the problem here yet again… mental illness may have played a part and probably did… but having a mental illness doesn’t mean you are going to shot up a school… in fact, all it means is that you have a mental illness… guns shouldn’t be available to anyone with or without a mental illness… Check out Falling Down… a movie about a normal man pushed to the edge of his mental limits… a movie about a man who can’t take any more… completely normal yesterday… lost his damn mind the next… how do we stop him?…

How do we use these new proposals to end gun violence against someone who hasn’t been broken yet?… It is not as though you check the guns out and return them when you are done…  again we let children die and again we will fail to act… Really hope John Wick 3 is bloody enough to justify the next school shooting or we might just have to start getting rid of teenagers because we sure as shit aren’t going to get rid of guns..(Lemons here… yep… I will be crossing my fingers for gun control from down under… )

a lifetime for it to make no sense… we bleed the martyrs dry and wait for the next one… we say we care but have we ever?… 

Drinking Bleach Preview (Vulgar)

The Trial

I’m feeling dangerous as the Judge call me to the witness stand despite the fact that I can’t even wipe my own ass if I wanted to. The law has me tied down. Got me on a leash, but they’re still scared. They don’t understand my madness. They don’t understand what makes me tick. That’s why I am here. So they can get some insight into what I am. Pussies. If they really wanted to know what I am they wouldn’t have me locked down like this. My lawyer says that if they question me on the stand at least I can get off with an insanity plea, but I’m not crazy. I’m the sanest mother fucker in the room.

As the bailiff walks me to the witness stand I get a smell of the perfume from one of the ladies in the jury. It smells of lilies and it smells so sweet I forget just what I am if only for a minute. Takes me back to when I was young. Takes me back to where I wish I could forget, but what’s done is done. I can feel my anger come back to me. I try to pull apart my chains, but it’s no use. I can’t tell which one of them is wearing it, but it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m locked down to god damn tight to do anything about it. Is there no human decency left in the world? When they sit me down in the chair I can see the crowd of people that was once behind me. A woman in a pink dress amongst the sea of black stares at me from the crowd, and she doesn’t look happy to be here. My lawyer said that some of the victim’s families would defiantly be here, but don’t let it get to me. I pucker my lips and give her a “kiss,” as I try to remember which one of my victims she reminds me of. I remember each one of the faces of the woman I have taken. The court is charging me with thirteen counts of murders, but I don’t have the heart to tell them it’s more like thirty. If they can’t find the bodies what concern is it of mine? Something about the woman in pink seems so familiar to me. It is her eyes. Yes, her eyes are the same as Heather’s eyes. They have the same look that Heather gave me as I strangled her to her last breath. God the fun her and I had after that. I have to assume that she is Heather’s sister or I’m sorry victim number six’s sister, but looks can be deceiving. There is no deceiving how Heather looks, however, not after I finished pounding that shovel in her face. No, no more pretty eyes for Heather. I can’t remember what I did with that shovel. Hopefully, I put it back in the shed. It was a really nice shovel I would really hate for it to get damaged. I wonder if they have found all of Heather anyways. They must have found enough of her or why else would the lady in the pink dress be here.

The lady in the pink’s dress is not the only woman with her eyes on me right now. What can I say the ladies love me and I’d hate to disappoint them all, but I’m a little too much to handle. The prosecutor is burning holes into the back of my head. I give her what she wants and give her a little smile to let her know I see her staring me down. She wears her emotions on her sleeve. My smile does nothing more, but piss her off which is all that I wanted. The things I could do to this woman would probably just get me thrown right back in this chair, but I’ll settle with just fucking with her mind for now. She’s not to bad looking either except for the butch haircut she is nearly perfect. If she grew her hair out she’d be easily fuckable with a knife. I can feel my dick getting harder just thinking about making her scream.

The jury looks hung or maybe that’s just how I want to see them swaying from side to side like twelve balls bouncing off one another. The judge breaks up my image of the jury swaying by demanding I put my hand on the bible. I tell the judge I’d rather not. The bible doesn’t do anything for me I say. I politely suggest if he wants me to swear on a book then he should bring me a copy of Everything Shits, as it is more relevant of a book than the bible. The crowd in the stands begins to sigh and talks like the sheep in the flock that they are. I’m the devil they whisper as if I can’t hear them. Wonder how many of them would put their hands on a book that used to be slammed across their face? The Bible reminds me of blood, the Bible reminds me that I have done something wrong, the Bible reminds me of God, and how there is no God. The Judge pounds his little hammer smacking the wood several times before ordering everyone to be quite in his deep voice between the horrible smashing. I ask him to please stop doing that. He tells me he will do as he pleases in his courtroom. A simple apology would have been sufficient, but no he has to be like every other asshole in the room. He asks me in a rude tone to put my hand on the bible so we can move on already. My lawyer reminds the judge that if I don’t want to swear on the bible it is my choice to do so or not. The prosecution adds another emotion to her sleeve, annoyance, before demanding we move on already. I am really beginning to enjoy myself up here in this chair. I feel so powerful as the prosecutor begins her questioning.

She asks me a general question to test my sanity. She asks why I am here in court today. Well she asks, “Why are you here in court today?” But is it not the same question? I explain to her that I was simply out at the local supermarket picking up some milk and accidentally wandered in here. She smiles in that way a woman smiles when she is very angry. In her defense she held back her anger quite nicely, but the armor is coming down. We all know why the accused is here Mrs. Nole please move on. The judge finally made a good point. “Since we all know why you are here Mr. Walters do you mind discussing any of the crimes you are being charged with today?” “No, not at all ask away.” “What happened to victim number six, Heather Woods?” “Going to have to refresh my memory, which one is that again?” “Heather is the young woman who went missing on December 30th three years ago. You claimed that you remember her and picked her out of a group of photo of missing people. Did you not do this Mr. Walters?” “Oh yes Heather, blonde hair?” The attorney nods at me. “Yes Heather was quite special to me. I let her live for a while before I dismantled every single part of her. I heard they still haven’t found all the pieces. Is that true?” “Sadly yes, but we found enough of her to link you to her missing persons case.” “Aww that’s too bad, but then again I imagined they never would find all of her. It’s quite impossible actually.” “Where is the rest of her?” “Hard to say it’s been three years now and medically speaking she is pretty much gone. Say why is she so important anyway? I mean I dismembered and raped and tortured a lot more than just one girl.” “He has a point counselor, but I have yet to hear yours.” “I have a point your honor. My point is why did you do all of this?” “That is your point? Really? There must be better things to ask me than why. I’m missing fucking shows here.” The judge slams his hammer down once again. “You will not use that type of language in my courtroom.” He is really starting to piss me off. I’m trying not to show my anger, but it is getting harder to keep my cool. “You liked to be in control don’t you Mr. Walters?” “What do you mean by that? Don’t we all like to be in control?” “What I mean is that you like to be in control and when you are not you act violently.” My lawyer stand up, “your honor what does that have to do anything? Mrs. Nole hasn’t asked a single question about this case. My client has already admitted to killing these women, what more can she really want from my client?” “I want to hear the truth. I want to know that Mr. Walters truly know what he did.” “Well that is a first I don’t believe I have ever heard of the prosecution trying to get a suspect off for insanity.” “I’m not insane your honor.” The judge slams his hammer. “No one said you were insane Mr. Walters.” My anger is at its peak.

“Stop slamming that fucking thing or so help me I will tear a hole in your throat just to watch you die you piece of shit”, I scream at the top of my lungs. The court goes into a frizzy and the judge slams the hammer yet again. “Order, order in the court what did you say to me, Mr. Walters?” But it is too late for words and despite how well they have me restrained I manage to get out of my chair. I jump as high as my limitations will let me which isn’t very high. The judge is scared out of his mind. He tries to move away from me as I lunge at him with my mouth open. I want to bite his fucking nose off or any part of him I can get my face near. The only part of him I am able to catch with my mouth is his right hand. My teeth grip the side of his hand and I can taste his skin in my mouth. I bit down as hard as I can on his soft flesh. I feel the warm taste of iron flood my mouth as he screams in agony. By this time the guards have gotten a hold of the back of my orange jumpsuit. As they attempt to pull away from the judge’s hand I can feel the soft tissue ripping further. I can hear the judge beginning to scream get this fucking psycho off of me. Get him the fuck off of me now. Just before a bailiff hits me in the face with the back of a shotgun I can feel a large chunk of flesh pull away from the judge’s hand. The hit hurts, but it doesn’t knock me out. I spit out the part of the judge’s hand that is still left in my mouth before telling the bailiff to go fuck his mother for me. The second hit to my face knocks me out cold, but I went out smiling.

Demented… Insane… Perfectly human?… who knows… this is the end of the story arc that runs through out my short story book, Drinking Bleach… Now available on Kindle and Amazon… Don’t forget to leave a messed up review… every little bit helps… Also check out my Threadless shop if you are looking for something new to wear… Storming the beaches of my mind for more to say… Got a playlist up on Spotify… Lemonade and Glass… check it out…

https://chewingonglass.threadless.com/

From the Journal of the Devil

Aug. 13th, 2009
I just witnessed yet another one of those late night infomercials. I must get it. The item in question is a pizza cutter that makes the perfect slices every time. This beauty goes by the name the Perfect Slice. So simplistic I love it. For the low, low price of $9.99 plus shipping and handling, I could be cutting my way to pizza heaven. How could I go wrong? Worst case scenario it becomes another prop I can use to frighten my victims will. I could raise the scissor-like device and threaten to cut little triangles out of their ball sack. The applications would be limited when it comes to actual torture. I’m sure that it can’t cut too deeply through the skin and there is no way it is getting through bone. Though if I modify it with a better hinge it could have the potential to do more damage, but then I’m into it for way more than the asking prices. There is also its basic function of cutting pizza and that could be helpful at a dinner party. I’m excited at the possibilities, but I don’t think it can live up to my last late night purchases. The Tri-Saw which has to be the most amazing device I have ever purchased. I really couldn’t ask for a better product. Three counter spinning blades rotating at 5500 mps gets my dick hard just thinking about it. This amazing saw can cut through most metals with ease once you purchase the Cut Anything replacement blades. Which of course I purchased because when you need to cut through a bone you want a perfect cut every time. Also, the stability of the Tri-Saw is second to none. There’s no jerking or pulling like there is with most saws. Plus it is handheld and portable. The miter saw I was using before was just too bulky and awkward. Not to mention loud and there are only so many new house projects I can lie about before the neighbors realize I haven’t fixed a thing. But with the Tri-Saw there is barely any noise. It does, however, lack a proper guard which can make quite the mess out of dismembering a body. But with this hobby, it seems to be unavoidable anyways and nothing a well-manufactured tarp can’t handle. There is nothing like it in on the market today. The Tri-Saw gets my seal of approval like my other great purchases such as the All in One Super Blending Unit, Soil Extraordinaire, Fantastic Flavor Inserter, and the Dangler Tomato Planter. While other products can be utilized beyond their intended purpose. The Soil Extraordinaire is for pure entertainment. Soil Extraordinaire was designed to feed water into plants as they need it. A reserve reservoir for those long business trips or the lazy ass who couldn’t be bothered to water their plants. It has the quite opposite effect if the product is stabbed into the whore’s neck. Granted some of the blood does make its way into the small hand-blown globe that acts as the reservoir, but this is mostly due to the pure force of the blood coming from their neck. The best technique is to enter at an angle so that the blood has a better chance of actually doing this. Then in order to save the blood from spilling all over the place, I have to gently remove the Soil Extraordinaire from the victim’s neck, and flip it so that the sharp end is pointing up. There is a real art to it all. Though if I am feeling lazy it is much easier to fill the product the old fashion way with a knife and a small incision. Either way works, but then I can take and put the blood filled globes in any potted plant that I have around the house. The blood doesn’t help them in any way. In fact, it mostly destroys them over time. Too much iron in the blood maybe? Really their only purpose is for me to have a discrete way of showing off my blood collection. Waste not want not. Plus there is something about having incriminating evidence stashed around the house that really gets me going. A major drawback to the Soil Extraordinaire is that the cheap shitty glass breaks way too easily. I have to make sure I stab the stem of the Soil Extraordinaire perfectly into the bitch’s neck or it snaps off into a million tiny little pieces on her collarbone. All of this creates an insidious mess that I have to clean up later. It took a reasonable amount of practice and quite a few Soil Extraordinaire to perfect the whole technique. The first girl I must have stabbed her at least six times before I got it to work. That’s about thirty-five dollars in globes alone. This is where the added value comes kicking in. At five dollars a globe it is much cheaper to replace the Soil Extraordinaire than it is to use quality materials. But even if the stem breaks or the globe itself, not all is lost because I can still use the leftover pieces to stab randomly all over their body. Another fun trick that I like to do whenever I’m not in a poetic blood and flowers kind of mood is to take the blood filled globes and smash it over their head. If their mouth isn’t gagged, neighbors on vacation, I like to watch as the blood slowly makes its way into their mouths. They pit and choke as they try to find a way to get it out, but more and more as the little shards stick out of their foreheads. The scene turns quite hilarious if left alive for a long enough time as they begin to vomit up their own blood all over themselves. The All in One Super Blending Unit on the other hand is a wonderful device from top to bottom. The name could have used some work, but it does do everything it promises and more. It really isn’t something I like to use during playtime but afterwards is a whole other thing. To quote the online website, “The units unique shape design circulates food with so much force and speed that it can do any job in 5 seconds or less.” So impressive. In the case of cooked human flesh this amazing little device can chop, dice, or mince me into flavor heaven in not one, not two, not even four seconds, but just three seconds. For the perfect human topping on nachos, in omelets, or to just sprinkle in my mouth. This little fucking machine even comes with a cookbook for other great recipe ideas. Of course I have to just replace parts of the recipe with cooked human pieces. Marinating chunks of human used to be a real bitch before one extraordinary night I came across the Fantastic Flavor Inserter while using the All in One Super Blending Unit to prepare my favorite midnight snack, human quesadillas or hum dillas as I like to call them. I had the Fantastic Flavor Inserter operator in stitches with a story about one of my many horrible attempts at making the perfect garlic “chicken.” Luckily for me the operator was laughing so hard she couldn’t hear the moans of some stupid bitch I brought home that night. Let’s just say she never got to enjoy the Fantastic Flavor Inserter like I have or the sunrise on that particular morning. I however did get to enjoy that amazing sunrise and I must say there is nothing more enjoyable than a brain shake at dawn. I haven’t been able to find a useful purpose for the Dangling Tomato planter, but it does grow very tasty tomatoes in just a few short weeks.