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YJH auction
12 years ago
That's right, I'm doing a Your Journal Here auction. Samples of my work can be seen on my page. Winner shall get their own personal views inserted within the framework of the journal text that follows:
"I [Your Personal Preference Here] all the recent spate of [Your Practice/Item Here]. They often seem to display a lack/lot of [Your Quality Here]. And no, I'm not bitter. I just don't get them because [Your Excuse Here]. In fact, I believe there's room for [Your Quantity Here] of them. It's probably just a passing fad and will be done and dusted within a [Your Time Span Here], and normal service will resume. This will make me [Your Future Emotional State Here]. But enough of this, who wants to {Their Appendage Here] me in [Your Orifice Here]? [Your Emoticon Here]
And remember, [Your Funny, Throwaway Remark That Makes You Feel Super-Smug For Your Cleverness Here]!"
Bidding starts at 400 Quatloons. Good luck!
"I [Your Personal Preference Here] all the recent spate of [Your Practice/Item Here]. They often seem to display a lack/lot of [Your Quality Here]. And no, I'm not bitter. I just don't get them because [Your Excuse Here]. In fact, I believe there's room for [Your Quantity Here] of them. It's probably just a passing fad and will be done and dusted within a [Your Time Span Here], and normal service will resume. This will make me [Your Future Emotional State Here]. But enough of this, who wants to {Their Appendage Here] me in [Your Orifice Here]? [Your Emoticon Here]
And remember, [Your Funny, Throwaway Remark That Makes You Feel Super-Smug For Your Cleverness Here]!"
Bidding starts at 400 Quatloons. Good luck!
"I hump all the recent spate of tuna. They often seem to display a lot of fish sticks. And no, I'm not bitter. I just don't get them because a radioactive monkey from taiwan found a bag of moondust that fell out of the backpack of a traveller from Skyrim. It then took the wrong turn on a crossroad and walked into a clothing store while reciting monkey wisdom, accompanied by random outbursts of violence. Many mannequins were harmed in the process. . In fact, I believe there's room for an Irishle (* 1 Irishle = as many cows as can fit into the attic of a smelly forest witches' porn shed) of them. It's probably just a passing fad and will be done and dusted within a phase of intense menstruation, and normal service will resume. This will make me high as Gollum on freeze-dried hobbit testicles. But enough of this, who wants to bill me in Paypal?
And remember, whenever you see political leaders renovate their private nuclear shelters with loads of IKEA furniture, stay away from the trashcans for they will be filled with the abominations that are IKEA assembly instruction papers. Always have your tampon at hand so you can absorb any spontaneous aneurism brain-blood before the russian vultures that circle over ireland in a geostationary orbit spot you with their enhanced Hubble-in-a-frame stellar magnification glasses that are tuned onto the absorption lines of fresh cerebral fluids of non-communstic origins and drop towards you with 1/98 luminal velocity while screaming 'STALIN LOVES YOU, TOO'.!"
I will take a piece of the shiny polished ground of the basketball court and coat it in a layer of magic dust made out of purified dead orphans from africa. Then I shall wrap this sacred artifact into a sheat made out of NASA-grade gold foil, freshly stolen from mission critical systems aboard the ISS, sending the astrofags into their firery doom, apprearing as beautiful comet on the horizon (ignoring the solar modules that impact the faces of the neighbors which stared in awe) while I slowly caress your mighty C
lownface, which you have put on as part of your native species mating ritual, which at it's peak includes ritualistic masturbation onto aforementioned special artifact and subsequent gay makeouts while fondling the leg stump of a freshly lobotomized basketball player whose name was Mitchy Wankertron.