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phillybear

Good Morning Geeks

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FOCK OFF!! Seriously. :angry: :angry:

 

The alarm clock rings. Since I never bother to turn it off, the alarm clock technically never stops ringing. I roll off my mattress and plummet to the floor. As luck would have it, my erection broke my fall. !!YARPLEJTRPS4!! Ludicrous, unyielding pain. Watching the Oscars type of pain. I think I broke my retarted d!ck. Also, I need to do something about this mysterious constant ringing in my ears when I’m home. The day has mercilessly lurched forward into motion. I open a window and bellow “SHUT THE FOCK UP!!” to no one in particular, sometimes referred to as my sleeping neighbors. That felt…what would be the opposite of cathartic…probably watching a “women try to talk about sports on ESPN” marathon. No. That’s not it. Maybe 3 straight hours of nothing but My Pillow commercials. I’m Mike Lindell. I was a Navy Seal. I was the governor of Minnesota. Buy my pillow. It took me two years to learn how to stuff a pillow and I’m bragging about it. A sparrow chirped back at me. Stupid sparrow. I’ll beat you like a 5 year old Shriner kid in a wheelchair trying to sell me a blanket. Yeah, you think you’re so tough, Shriners, with your fez hats and missing limbs. I’ll give you something to really cry about. Like a recording of the autobiography of Gwenyth Paltrow. It is 4:00 AM.

 

I pound my head into a wall for about 10 minutes, regain some consciousness, and head to the bathroom, managing to avoid most of the traps I set for myself the night before. This is more challenging than you would expect since I usually set them while I’m falling down drunk. Falling down drunk into a bear trap d1ck first is not something you think about before pouring the first drink, but bear traps can’t be choosers. For breakfast, I consume a handful of kitty litter while contemplating that actually owning a cat would be easier than stealing cat sh!t from my neighbors, my daily lump of poison, and a couple of kidney stones because I have always wondered what it would feel like to pass them through twice. I am out of coffee, so I chew on a Gain detergent pod. Looks and tastes just like candy I had when I was a kid. I still wonder to this day if my parents were trying to murder me. I meticulously glue small rocks to the insides of my shoes and give my clip-on tie a quick once over. Exiting my front door, I take the next 5 minutes to shake my fist at the sky and pledge to get my revenge on the sun. That unholy, c0ck slime basterd ball of sh!t. I will end you a thousand times over. As I start to limp to work, I barely notice that the sun hasn’t risen yet. It is 5:00 AM.

 

While waiting on the train platform for my decidedly not luxurious ride amongst the homeless, bedbugs, homeless bedbugs, strewn about dry chicken bones, and the most vile, wretched evil of them all, school children, a human came wandering by and began to talk at me. Why thoust thou interrupt my next gambit in framing my co-worker for murder. I’ve been following him around on his Tinder dates, and after he kisses his date goodnight and goes home without any nookie, I kill the b1tch. We are up to lucky number 8. Sooner or later the FBI will crucify that coffee slurping hump and drag his ass to jail. I have dibs on his cubicle. Yet, I am currently confronted with this flesh colored humanoid. My curiosity piqued as to why this thing continues to flap its gums while I do not show any reaction nor have made eye contact nor have I even blinked in the past 2 minutes. I removed my headphones to hear what this meat sack with the breath of used tampons that have been fished out of trash cans and sucked dry was blathering on about.

“…in the right direction?”

“Can you repeat that?”

“I was asking if this train will take me in the right direction?”

“Which way are you headed?”

“Northbound”

“Oh. Northbound. Like this sign? Directly behind me? That says “Northbound”? In big, bright, orange letters. You said you want to go “North”? “Bound?”

“Yes”

“Well, you were right to ask since you are in the wrong place. You want to catch the train over there on the other side of the tracks, where the big, bright, orange letters say “Southbound”. Make sure you grab an express train. They are fast and won’t make any stops for a while.”

“Thanks.”

As that meat thing was walking away, I felt regret. What was I thinking? That’s just not who I am as a person. I need to make this right. I caught up with the meat popsicle rather quickly. “Sorry, buddy. I made a mistake. This actually is the very spot where you catch the Northbound train.” I then pushed him onto the tracks as the Northbound was arriving. It is 6:00 AM.

 

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This board used to have good threads

 

Then it devolved to streaming thoughts.

 

Now threads are started with just pure gibberish.

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Who are you?

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I thought phillybear died.

just wishful thinking

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

:banana:

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Dang, is this the real phillybear? If so, welcome back bro. You need to update your sig; you've won two more Geek of the Years. :cheers:

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Rusty found his password to this alias? :dunno:

 

I figured it was Sux. :doh:

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I figured it was Sux. :doh:

Not me.

I have my ideas of whom it might be, though.

I'll get to the bottom of this, pronto :bandana:

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FOCK OFF!! Seriously. :angry: :angry:

 

The alarm clock rings. Since I never bother to turn it off, the alarm clock technically never stops ringing. I roll off my mattress and plummet to the floor. As luck would have it, my erection broke my fall.

 

 

This was the last thing I laughed at, should've stopped here

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Not me.

I have my ideas of whom it might be, though.

I'll get to the bottom of this, pronto :bandana:

 

 

Waiting...

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Waiting...

 

Sux and I have figured it out. We will let the bored know in due time. :cheers:

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Sux and I have figured it out. We will let the bored know in due time. :cheers:

spill it, Coolio

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I always thought it was Phurfur/bakers boy

 

There is a 0% chance that Phurfur is a real person as he presents himself.

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Guess What!

I've got a fever!

and the only prescription....

is more phillybear.

 

I gotta have more phillybear babies.

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bump

 

To have started this thread, the focker was alive a year and a half ago. Hopefully, if he isn't dead, he escapes from the mental hospital or the prison or Zed and Maynard's basement, wherever he is, and posts again.

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Sux and I have figured it out. We will let the bored know in due time. :cheers:

And ????

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