Thursday, December 15, 2011
They gave me a hut of wood and mud in hell. It doesn't smell good, but it's got a bed. I don't know how to get back to it from the blankness, but I'll find myself there when I wake up.
The bed they gave me is filled with rusty nails and shards of glass, but I make it work with my pillow stuffed with rocks. I'll wake up thinking there's someone next to me and start talking like there's someone there because the best part of sleeping with someone is when you wake up next to them and talk to them. I'll talk and a demon will commonly answer me. I've seen one of them being born, demons. They're born through mouths. The demon's mouth dilates and the spawn gets puked out covered in blood and mucus. It's enough to make you puke. The smell and sight of it all is pretty vile.
Every room here has a television in it, but there's no remote which I think has to do with the whole eternal torment thing. But the only thing playing on the tele is weird ass Bollywood movies and not the hilarious ones they show on The Soup, so a remote is pretty useless except for the weather channel. "Today in the void: nothing!"
I've still been searching for the soul with #1, the worst person ever. They're having trouble placing me with a job because I don't have enough experience in anything. I cooked for some demons today. Fried chicken. Didn't turn out very tasty. They won't be mistaking me for Colonel Sanders anytime soon, that's for sure. No one said shit, though, because operate by the same rule as rail roaders, as explained in moose turd pie. So I have to make them food again tomorrow. Satan didn't give me my left arm back so I hate cooking now, it's just not fun anymore, but, again, that's probably part of the eternal torment and suffering.
said Tommy T. at 8:46 PM - #
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The bed they gave me is filled with rusty nails and shards of glass, but I make it work with my pillow stuffed with rocks. I'll wake up thinking there's someone next to me and start talking like there's someone there because the best part of sleeping with someone is when you wake up next to them and talk to them. I'll talk and a demon will commonly answer me. I've seen one of them being born, demons. They're born through mouths. The demon's mouth dilates and the spawn gets puked out covered in blood and mucus. It's enough to make you puke. The smell and sight of it all is pretty vile.
Every room here has a television in it, but there's no remote which I think has to do with the whole eternal torment thing. But the only thing playing on the tele is weird ass Bollywood movies and not the hilarious ones they show on The Soup, so a remote is pretty useless except for the weather channel. "Today in the void: nothing!"
I've still been searching for the soul with #1, the worst person ever. They're having trouble placing me with a job because I don't have enough experience in anything. I cooked for some demons today. Fried chicken. Didn't turn out very tasty. They won't be mistaking me for Colonel Sanders anytime soon, that's for sure. No one said shit, though, because operate by the same rule as rail roaders, as explained in moose turd pie. So I have to make them food again tomorrow. Satan didn't give me my left arm back so I hate cooking now, it's just not fun anymore, but, again, that's probably part of the eternal torment and suffering.
said Tommy T. at 8:46 PM - #
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