Post by Deleted on Oct 11, 2019 23:40:52 GMT -6
Dont laugh at my jokes
The punchline is
MURDER
STRAIGHT TO THE POINT
"Who in the fuck is Nocturnal?"
This is the thought that I try my best to maintain as I slosh the chunks of rock in my spoon. I have already blasted two shots of methamphetamine, probably a half gram each.
"The past few weeks yo ass been poppin off at the mouth about MY STRAP being "your strap." And all the while already disrespecting me as it's holder, doubting my ability to rip it away from its kidnapper Shane Sparx. You wanna ask me who Nocturnal is? I got a simple answer for ya my friends. Nocturnal?"
WHAT A FUGGIN JOKE
this ain't WWE dawg
I draw back the only thing that has never left me. So cloudy and tantalizing. I am salivating here y'all, my heart beating in breakdowns and riffs. The symphony rages on inside of my mind. Why y'all so uptight?
"This dude wanna act like he is all nasty and despicable, almost as if he is a got damn parody of the shit he be acting out. And got damn y'all, if that shit be what's really happenin with Nocturnal's bitch ass, then that motha fugga deserves all of them awards. Man I"m talkin about them Oscar's, them MTV awards n shit. Shit bruh, I bet this fuggin rated pg poser can sing too. We might as well go and get his ass an Emmy while we're at it. See what I am sayin Noc?"
BITCHES AINT SHIT
BUT HOES AND TRICKS
keep talkin that fake shit and I'll reward you with suckin my dick
Roger, Roger, no, not that pussy Champ silly. HOUSTON WE HAVE LIFT OFF! I feel the crank begin to course through my inner networks of veins and makes the long trek to my heart. The intensity choking my throat.
"You.. (cough) don't.. (cough) have.. (cough) the.. (cough) (cough) slightest clue of what the.. (cough) fuck you've gotten yourself in to because, SPOILER ALERT, I be back on my bullshit again. I look at these people's faces and I am driven into this madness that just makes me wanna stab."
STAB
STAB
OH MY GOD
One second please..
JUST LET ME PUT ON MY OWN CHELSEA GRIN
In this moment, everything becomes a fleeting glimpse of decency and morality. No more scenery. Just go with the flow and watch me destroy the "GREAT" Nocturnal.
"And then I look at you, and I am repulsed by the absurdity of your fuggin being. At least these other loser ass mindless feeders and breeders wear their face with some bullshit called integrity. Your cowardice hides from the outside world underneath this layer of crap you have constructed and project into being nothing of substance. It is hidden beneath nothing more than a B character when you put on your masks, metaphorical and physical. But hey there guy, they can just make a new one of them Emmys for.."
BEST SUPPORTING EXTRA
take a bow Noc, by all means
"You're just an over hyped pussy ass bitch that brought a gun to a knife fight. And you wanna know what the worst problem is for ya fella? Shit y'all, why didn't nobody's ass warn Noc about B fuckin Moore? What did this motha fugga realize too got damn late in the game just like Shane Sparx ass did? Don't you know what time it is you fake ass punk? It's.."
CLOBBERING TIME
Really Brandon? Pop culture reference number bazillion? And here we thought it was is Nocturnal who is an unoriginal piece of crap. GASP
"You now enter my battlefield, where the admission fee is your blood and guts. You are here by informed with the royal decree from the King of XCore. Be prepared to pay the toll with your pathetic life, a penny is still worth something I guess."
Got damn y'all. Cold Front came, Cold Front went, and at the end of the night yours fuggin truly emerged victorious. AND YOUR NEW XCORE CHAMPION, Brandon fuggin Moore. Take a moment fellas, bask in the eternal glory I now bestow upon you all as my finite legion. Shane Sparx was criminally overrated, and I exposed the truth that management was trying so got damn hard to hide in the shadows. My level is an unfathomable concept you peasants will never be able to properly grasp in your simple minded think tanks. Fuggin worthless sacks of human decay is what makes all of you functioning mortal coils, and you have now been introduced to your doomsayer. My grip on reality has slipped, the hubris and narcotic bliss further deteriorate my fractured psyche. This is bad fuggin news. Really bad fuggin news for all of you. Brandon Moore is slowly ceasing to exist, burning down to crisp bits and ashes. And from the embers of the personification of greatness, comes a deity not of this Earth. Do you feel the trembling of tectonic plates beneath y'all fuggin feet? The rivers have begun to overflow and run the drain off of human waste. Blood now the nectar of life as the zombies horde and overtake the streets, dancing to the pulsing rhythym of a chorus from the angels up above. They are crying, stricken with the fuggin sickness that is slowly creaping into this plane of existence, the horror of what is to come stirring the grief in their heavenly hearts. He has risen from the void from which my soul has surrended, selling out to the darkness which now commands me. Oh my fuggin God, he is coming.
GALACTUS APPROACHES
Say, do you believe in.. monsters?
You know what time it is. Grab your fat asses a snack and a sodie pop. Take your fuggin seats ya motha fuggas, and shut your got dang miserable asses up. I got a story to tell.
So it was like 1AM on a Saturday morning, I was decked out in all black in the bushes right off this trail at Carondelete Park in South City St. Louis. And I was watchin this fuggin smokin hot blonde bitch jogging all through the park. She had this beautiful blonde hair pulled back in a bun to keep it out her beautiful frickin face. Her fat ass was jigglin as she ran, swayin side to side like, "Brandon.. Brandon.. Come get me Brandon!" And bruh, who am I to ignore the heed of a fine ass like that?
IT WAS CALLING MY NAME
oh yeah, you know daddy came
I was eager in the anticipation, biding my time until she came back around, right in front of me. I had a rag completely soaked in raw ether I extracted myself from break fluid in hand.
SNATCH!
Within like a blink of an eye or some shit, I came from out the bush and grabbed this bitch up, forcing the ether rag into her fuggin face. She squirmed and tried to fight me off, I just simply overpowered her. Her muffled and garbled pleas for help only further tickled my fancy, causing my grip to tighten. I slowly dragged her back into the bushed area, the bitch still resisting but I could feel her going softer and softer with each passing second. About forty five seconds passed before she lost consciousness. Why didn't I just use chloroform you ask? Silly motha fuggas, that bullshit you see in the movies ain't real you idiots. It would take atleast five minutes to render a broad cold with that stuff. When you're tryin to kidnap a whore for a personal party, use raw ether. It forces a feeling of bliss through the despair they are suffering. It is truly wonderful..
To be continued.
The punchline is
MURDER
STRAIGHT TO THE POINT
"Who in the fuck is Nocturnal?"
This is the thought that I try my best to maintain as I slosh the chunks of rock in my spoon. I have already blasted two shots of methamphetamine, probably a half gram each.
"The past few weeks yo ass been poppin off at the mouth about MY STRAP being "your strap." And all the while already disrespecting me as it's holder, doubting my ability to rip it away from its kidnapper Shane Sparx. You wanna ask me who Nocturnal is? I got a simple answer for ya my friends. Nocturnal?"
WHAT A FUGGIN JOKE
this ain't WWE dawg
I draw back the only thing that has never left me. So cloudy and tantalizing. I am salivating here y'all, my heart beating in breakdowns and riffs. The symphony rages on inside of my mind. Why y'all so uptight?
"This dude wanna act like he is all nasty and despicable, almost as if he is a got damn parody of the shit he be acting out. And got damn y'all, if that shit be what's really happenin with Nocturnal's bitch ass, then that motha fugga deserves all of them awards. Man I"m talkin about them Oscar's, them MTV awards n shit. Shit bruh, I bet this fuggin rated pg poser can sing too. We might as well go and get his ass an Emmy while we're at it. See what I am sayin Noc?"
BITCHES AINT SHIT
BUT HOES AND TRICKS
keep talkin that fake shit and I'll reward you with suckin my dick
Roger, Roger, no, not that pussy Champ silly. HOUSTON WE HAVE LIFT OFF! I feel the crank begin to course through my inner networks of veins and makes the long trek to my heart. The intensity choking my throat.
"You.. (cough) don't.. (cough) have.. (cough) the.. (cough) (cough) slightest clue of what the.. (cough) fuck you've gotten yourself in to because, SPOILER ALERT, I be back on my bullshit again. I look at these people's faces and I am driven into this madness that just makes me wanna stab."
STAB
STAB
OH MY GOD
One second please..
JUST LET ME PUT ON MY OWN CHELSEA GRIN
In this moment, everything becomes a fleeting glimpse of decency and morality. No more scenery. Just go with the flow and watch me destroy the "GREAT" Nocturnal.
"And then I look at you, and I am repulsed by the absurdity of your fuggin being. At least these other loser ass mindless feeders and breeders wear their face with some bullshit called integrity. Your cowardice hides from the outside world underneath this layer of crap you have constructed and project into being nothing of substance. It is hidden beneath nothing more than a B character when you put on your masks, metaphorical and physical. But hey there guy, they can just make a new one of them Emmys for.."
BEST SUPPORTING EXTRA
take a bow Noc, by all means
"You're just an over hyped pussy ass bitch that brought a gun to a knife fight. And you wanna know what the worst problem is for ya fella? Shit y'all, why didn't nobody's ass warn Noc about B fuckin Moore? What did this motha fugga realize too got damn late in the game just like Shane Sparx ass did? Don't you know what time it is you fake ass punk? It's.."
CLOBBERING TIME
Really Brandon? Pop culture reference number bazillion? And here we thought it was is Nocturnal who is an unoriginal piece of crap. GASP
"You now enter my battlefield, where the admission fee is your blood and guts. You are here by informed with the royal decree from the King of XCore. Be prepared to pay the toll with your pathetic life, a penny is still worth something I guess."
Got damn y'all. Cold Front came, Cold Front went, and at the end of the night yours fuggin truly emerged victorious. AND YOUR NEW XCORE CHAMPION, Brandon fuggin Moore. Take a moment fellas, bask in the eternal glory I now bestow upon you all as my finite legion. Shane Sparx was criminally overrated, and I exposed the truth that management was trying so got damn hard to hide in the shadows. My level is an unfathomable concept you peasants will never be able to properly grasp in your simple minded think tanks. Fuggin worthless sacks of human decay is what makes all of you functioning mortal coils, and you have now been introduced to your doomsayer. My grip on reality has slipped, the hubris and narcotic bliss further deteriorate my fractured psyche. This is bad fuggin news. Really bad fuggin news for all of you. Brandon Moore is slowly ceasing to exist, burning down to crisp bits and ashes. And from the embers of the personification of greatness, comes a deity not of this Earth. Do you feel the trembling of tectonic plates beneath y'all fuggin feet? The rivers have begun to overflow and run the drain off of human waste. Blood now the nectar of life as the zombies horde and overtake the streets, dancing to the pulsing rhythym of a chorus from the angels up above. They are crying, stricken with the fuggin sickness that is slowly creaping into this plane of existence, the horror of what is to come stirring the grief in their heavenly hearts. He has risen from the void from which my soul has surrended, selling out to the darkness which now commands me. Oh my fuggin God, he is coming.
GALACTUS APPROACHES
Say, do you believe in.. monsters?
You know what time it is. Grab your fat asses a snack and a sodie pop. Take your fuggin seats ya motha fuggas, and shut your got dang miserable asses up. I got a story to tell.
So it was like 1AM on a Saturday morning, I was decked out in all black in the bushes right off this trail at Carondelete Park in South City St. Louis. And I was watchin this fuggin smokin hot blonde bitch jogging all through the park. She had this beautiful blonde hair pulled back in a bun to keep it out her beautiful frickin face. Her fat ass was jigglin as she ran, swayin side to side like, "Brandon.. Brandon.. Come get me Brandon!" And bruh, who am I to ignore the heed of a fine ass like that?
IT WAS CALLING MY NAME
oh yeah, you know daddy came
I was eager in the anticipation, biding my time until she came back around, right in front of me. I had a rag completely soaked in raw ether I extracted myself from break fluid in hand.
SNATCH!
Within like a blink of an eye or some shit, I came from out the bush and grabbed this bitch up, forcing the ether rag into her fuggin face. She squirmed and tried to fight me off, I just simply overpowered her. Her muffled and garbled pleas for help only further tickled my fancy, causing my grip to tighten. I slowly dragged her back into the bushed area, the bitch still resisting but I could feel her going softer and softer with each passing second. About forty five seconds passed before she lost consciousness. Why didn't I just use chloroform you ask? Silly motha fuggas, that bullshit you see in the movies ain't real you idiots. It would take atleast five minutes to render a broad cold with that stuff. When you're tryin to kidnap a whore for a personal party, use raw ether. It forces a feeling of bliss through the despair they are suffering. It is truly wonderful..
To be continued.