I was hoping that you people would be able to make the mental leap that I was describing both the texture of the sky and the colour of it, that the word "black" would immediately spring to mind, as well as the image of coils of cloudy liquid. I am profoundly sorry that I did not include the word black or blue in the subject line. I appreciate now that without such a qualifier your minds were left feebly and frantically grasping at the meaning I portended. Perhaps you envisaged nightmarish biro scribble-scapes, or a literal ink sky, bleeding and blotting the ground from the horizon, some dread portent of an Elder God's return. I see why the stark image I have inadvertently painted upon your mind's eye might trouble you, leading you to reply with glib, witless snark; I can understand how asinine remarks can be used to mask a deeper discomfort of the things that snake through the depths of the subconscience of even the most hopeless internet dullard, and for that I can only apologise.
Note to self: Don't ever start a subject again that isn't about willies, poo, football or sandwiches. And remember to schedule something that involves going outside every friday night.
appear you cunt
Alright, I'm here.
Jesus.
once had a fake id
tried to get into a pub or something and the bouncer told me that the id was as useful as a guff in a hurricane
my old boss used to say something was
'as useful as a cunt full of cold water'
sounds like a man of great wisdom
did he too work as a bouncer somewhere?
Ink. INK.
I was hoping that you people would be able to make the mental leap that I was describing both the texture of the sky and the colour of it, that the word "black" would immediately spring to mind, as well as the image of coils of cloudy liquid. I am profoundly sorry that I did not include the word black or blue in the subject line. I appreciate now that without such a qualifier your minds were left feebly and frantically grasping at the meaning I portended. Perhaps you envisaged nightmarish biro scribble-scapes, or a literal ink sky, bleeding and blotting the ground from the horizon, some dread portent of an Elder God's return. I see why the stark image I have inadvertently painted upon your mind's eye might trouble you, leading you to reply with glib, witless snark; I can understand how asinine remarks can be used to mask a deeper discomfort of the things that snake through the depths of the subconscience of even the most hopeless internet dullard, and for that I can only apologise.
Note to self: Don't ever start a subject again that isn't about willies, poo, football or sandwiches. And remember to schedule something that involves going outside every friday night.
Just take a photo and post that.
I've got one of those old
Bic pens with four different coloured inks (red, black, green and blue).
No storm stories to report.