Nighthawk

Pictures are required. Sounds like the kind of guy I'd like, though. I'd marry you as long as you agree that I'm the man.

A lot of people like incest, you know.

Nah. Good try though. I wonder if Meatwad makes lightsaber noises while MMH's dick is in his mouth.

Actually he looks like this hillbilly I used to know. We're talking serious backwoods here, except he moved to LA. It was exactly like the Beverly Hillbillies. You never had so much fun in your life as hanging out with that guy.

Knights used to say it.

I've gone ahead and ordered that Residents album. Sounds interesting. I do wonder what the atmosphere would be like at a Residents show. I couldn't really guess. I did buy a Wormwood tour poster from Germany once, though.

Ha ha. I love this man.

The main thing setting it apart is wormwood. The important chemical component in wormwood is thujone, which is supposed to have a similar affect to THC. The result is sometimes reported as somewhat psychedelic... I'd like to try it for the sake of novelty, but I don't expect it to be good enough to drink regularly at the prices it goes for. Some people get really into it for some reason though, I don't know. Marilyn Manson reportedly goes through the stuff by the case. Where to get it, well if you know anybody who can do moonshine, they can make it for you. The laws are vague enough so plenty of places will let you order it from overseas, and hope it doesn't get seized in customs (which it probably won't, from what I hear). Goths love it, so if you know any, might see if they have any connections.

Not really. Those herbs aren't random.

No, I legitimately wanted to know. I'm so well liked, I wouldn't think anyone would want to say that to me if they knew who I was. That was only the first exchange, anyway.

I've never once been had the better of on this board. He tried, and I shut his ass down.

Grow up, Czech.

It's about money. Morality is just posturing.

Lincoln was a moderate.

Guatemalan insanity peppers, actually, but yes.

This one's wrong, Mexicans work harder than anyone I've seen in my life. Make it a black guy and it'll work.

I'm bumping this thread for a bit of prose. Also I like this thread. Since this thread, I have done DXM three more times. I drank two bottles of tussin and puked them up, as recently mentioned. Another time I took two and kept them down. I remained in the first plateau. Another time I took three, and some mild muscle relaxants. That time I wrote some things down for a while. When I could take what was in my head and express it in a singular thought, I would write it down, for posterity. This is what I wrote in the throes of DXM: Who's your disassociative daddy? There is much to be found in my mind. In my brain. Much is in there now. I can hear chanting and sirens. You can't break me all at once. You have to break me a little at a time. I see Indians chanting. They are beating drums. About the cactus they dance. The cactus is my brain stem. I am floating far away, but I know I am still here. Here I sit. I can feel that other place. I am not there. But I know I could go there if I wanted to. I can hear it. I can hear Indians chanting and beating drums. I scratch my ear like a dog. The sound and shapes are changing. There is a pipe organ here. And a man with long, red hair. Springs are bursting forth with music, but the man is capping them. His limbs are long and he is very tall. There is something floating in my head, and I can't quite... understand it. It is a musical note. And yet a physical thing. Many images are pressed upon me. They are from all throughout my life. I am a child again, and at the same time, wavering smoke. My whole body feels like a tongue. Now I sit on the end of a red stage. Playing chimes and gongs. Head's got me... I'm in my chair. Everything is moving. Everything is soft and alive, like this was the jungle. This is a strange hallucination. Because I understand it is one. I see nothing. And I see everything. If that doesn't make sense, turn back now. Crest. Peak. Wave.

My buddy Joe used to answer the phone and flip the pages of the magazine he was reading next to the phone and say he was checking his supply sheet. "Um, no sir, it doesn't look like we have any of those in stock." Joe broke something for me, because I used to say there were two kinds of people in the world, those who like Austin Powers and those who don't. Joe loved Austin Powers and we were still buddies, so I learned to let one of my prejudices go.

I dislike musical ringtones. Mine is just "Beep beep beep"

He came after me and I shouted him down, but I like the guy. He shouldn't stay away on account of me.

Sonic had better music, which isn't a light comment. I love Mario music.

Incy is gay with Whataburger.

Banky was no DJ Jeff.

When you and I meet we'll play scategories instead.