In the house of screaming virgins I'm the necrofucking freak. (1 Viewer)

Hi everybody!
For I am from the bloody shitlands of Schnitzel and Sauerkraut my written english might be mispelled sometimes, I apologize for that.
Why am I on this page? I'm a young author of short stories, poems and song lyrics. My works are extreme, honest and have a clearly antifascist and anarchistic message. I mix up my own experiences concerning drugs, illness, medication, education, the enslavery system of work, failed romances (...) and connect these things with weird, bizarre and morbid fantasies of mine. I reflect the everyday madness of what's happening on this planet.
I discovered Bukowski quite early in my life, to name it I was at the age of nine years. I have a brother who is ten years older than I am and I found some Bukowski books lying around in his room. Amazed by the fact that these books were not intended for my eyes to be read, I had my first massive blast of vulgarism by Bukowski. It didn't confuse or distort me in any way, I simply enjoyed reading his art. I had gotten involved with Punk and Wave Gothic music even earlier so I wasn't on the mainstream side of life anyway. Fuck reactionary christianized hypocracy, Bukowski put his fingers into the open wounds of society.
I wonder if somebody of you knows publishers of books, magazines or newspapers who might be interested in a new talent. I am thankfull for any help and I promise that my stuff is not some kind of wannabe fake puke but true lyrical masturbation. If you can read the german language, my poems can be read for free on lyrikjob.com and for a small donation my short stories can be read on xinxii.com.
Of course we can also just chat around, I'm not here to grab your money.

Post Toxic
 
I'm always puzzled why work is associated with enslavement-you like money right-you make choices-some choices suck-you own that. It, they doesn't own you.
Welcome
 
Aah Post Toxic, glad to have you up from the depths of hell to bless us with some more wierd, bizarre and morbid. Because those are tall orders these days - what with every scribbling shocker driven to outdo the other.
But our man Bukowski wasn't ever a shocker, for me. He's always more of a hand buzzer hidden in a strong, calloused squeeze. A gut-wrenching prank that rarely fails; and wins you over, smiling.
 
I'm not here to grab your money.
Not much danger of that. But look at the bright side: when you graduate high school you can get a great job writing for books, magazines and newspapers, then you'll have all kinds of money.

I can't figure out whether you are the new Bukowski, or just better than him. Someone who reads German (and who can guess your name) will have to tell me.
 
Nice entrance, and welcome. You did, at least, enter through the New Blood door.

Now go on and have some fun reading everything in here. Just be nice.

What books have you read???
 
Agreed. But that's not all he put his fingers into = :eek:

Welcome to the forum; and good luck. I hope things are boding well for you in the bloody shitlands of Schnitzel and Sauerkraut.

Tonight, I am having a pork loin cooked in sauerkraut, mashed on the side, and perhaps a cold beer or two. Most likely Sierra Nevada, if that's ok.

May even splash some Worcestershire on top.

You most certainly understand.

Cheers, PT.

Pax
 
I am not sure what I like best, but the idea of being shrinked down to the size of 15cm by a witch and then she fucks herself with a human dildo certainly puzzled me in a strong way.
And still does.And what would it be like if the devil himself wants to screw your wife and her cunt is not big enough for his dick?I wonder...Also being forced to endure those large amounts of disgusting pus spots on your face and feeling like shit all the time because you know how butt ugly you are strikes me.
 
Thanks for welcoming me, this goes out for everybody.And Jimmy Snerp, I don't like money.The invention of money was one of the biggest mistakes in human history.Still you can use money for subversion.And to support your own kids.Or to buy a new pair of drumsticks.But on the other hand,while people starve elsewhere,we feed pigs better than many third world countries feed people.It's a twisted and perverted money game.Do you know CRASS?

Mip, my name as an author also is Post Toxic so you don't have to guess.
 
My advice would be to get his name right. mjp. rumor has it, he's quite important in this neck of the woods...(probably a typo by you, or you just misread the sidebar).
 
Salut Gerard!
Apart from Bukowski,I really digged Please Kill Me and My Revolting Life,these are two of my favorites.I've also read Bakunin,Kropotkin and other anarcho stuff,quiete dry material sometimes.I love H.P. Lovecraft and I'm into comic books like The Crow.Other comic stuff I enjoy are eighties U.K. science fiction characters D.R. and Quinch,Rogue Trooper and Nemesis the Warlock.
 
Thank you, homeless mind.
And cheers,too.
Sadly I gotta go now because I have to get up early in the morning.
My daughter needs me to get her to the kindergarten and that's a lovely thing.

I wish you more belly pleasures with Apfelstrudel and Nussecken.

Myself,I'm going to eat what's left of the yuppie I killed last week before I go to bed.
Might be something left of his ass cheeks in the fridge.

Protoplasma Porno Plastic Parent Post Toxic
 
Thanks PT, I'll make an extra little effort to rot my gut tonight and continue ahead with the sweaty chore of extracting pertinence from stubborn wheres, presenting it as uselessness and then reaping the rewards.
 
If someone comes to your house for a beer, do you talk like that, or is it only when you type? Just wondering. No one else seems to want to say this (but I know I'm not the only one thinking it), but it's really pretentious. And you often misuse words, which, sadly, only draws more attention to the pretension (kids, feel free to use that awesome rhyme in your "beats" or whatever you're up to these days).

If you were sitting on my couch talking like that I'd tell you to knock off the bullshit. This isn't my couch, so you can do what you'd like, but I had to say it anyway. I don't expect you'll take it kindly, I wouldn't, and I don't see anything positive coming from this. But I can't watch it any more without saying something. It's like ignoring the guy at the table wearing a full civil war uniform, and no one says, "Uh, what the fuck, bro?"
 
I'm no pro at talking, nor typing...I do my best to release a few hounds here and there. If I'm not your cup of tea, sorry. There are things that I do that I'm sure are going right, though, and those things carry the day. Occasionally, if it all wasn't properly released, its spills into other places; dinner conversation, internet, lectures, presentations. No place is really safe from it. Rejection is presumed but participation is ever yielding...so I join the blather. I'm no Bukowski...couldn't be another. If anyone ever comes to my house to have a beer I promise you that the pretentiousness will be amusing, accomodating and mutually enrichening.
Thank you M for allowing me into your living room and also to all the others for whom you are speaking. I am "taking it" just fine.
 
The host will be prepared but inevitably guests arrive needlessly schlepping. Which ends up being handy if the night extends (often the fault of musical instruments). Also, some stale-ish Marlboros can usually be found somewhere too (did I really quit?). We will toss around verbal wrongnesses and celebrate heros and villans alike. Of course.
 
For the record, none of you pricks are invited over here. One of you would bring MULLINAX another would bring drowningboy and it would just be downhill from there. Those two would want to drip candle wax on each other, or "Crisco up" their arms and stick them into things, and there's just no way I'm letting that happen in the house, or even in the yard.

Not that anyone has ever asked to come over. Bastards. :( Don't you care about my FEELINGS?!

Oh, okay, sure Justine and Jordan came over, but the minute they walked in they immediately wanted us all to go into the kitchen and "underwear dance," which went fine for an hour or so, but then someone pulled out a can of ether and a dirty rag, and after that things got a little fuzzy. At 3:45 a.m. I had to call the fire department to get Jordan off the roof. He had the couch cushions duct taped to himself and he was loudly wailing Bedouin folk songs to the neighborhood in a screechy voice that he called, "The Owl Of Wisdom."

So, sure, it was fun, but still somewhat uncomfortable in that way first meetings often are.
 
AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!
BBBBBBLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!
YYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHH!
Carry on screaming!
This is just the right stuff for me to read early in the morning,very entertaining.
I'll just stuff my mouth full of tobacco, pour some gasoline onto and lighten it up.
 
It's scary that you know of something referred to as "underwear dancing". What the hell is that? South Pasadena pastimes? or did you learn that from Huell Howser?
huell_1.jpg


Po Toxic, you really can't type screaming.
 
Like toxic ass? That's funny. LOL! Okay good night. I have to get up early to take the cat to the vet to be spayed. The little slut is going after the poor corgi. He's all mixed up now.
This is a strange thread, welcome P Tox.
 

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