My lack of a beard is still cause for an itch

As I smite monsters and ponder what I shall make for dinner, I come to realize that the happier I am outside of artistic measures, the weaker my artistic measures become, thus making me depressed. I need some sort of unifying, middle ground.

I've covered my bedroom in gibberish drawings I've made recently. Not sure why.

~Xavier R.

Post #124

Figured it was cause for celebration.

Anyways, hear the news? Jackass Ryan Dunn died yesterday from speeding whilst drunk. I'd delve deeper into it, but I hardly think he deserves THAT sort of recognition. I feel a bit of sorrow for the loss of someone who made so many laugh, but...you know...drunk driving. No pity for him personally. Just the poor sap with him. Who, of course, also died.

Anyways, before I had been planning on doing multiple pieces on the sheer folly of racial advancement groups (specifically in the United States), but in all honestly, I probably should have just made that a one parter on how outlandishly retarded the Klu Klux Klan is. Not that I lack ammo on everyone else. I just, well, don't fucking feel like doing anymore.

To be fair, to all our lovely readers who feel jipped of a clever anecdote; an amusing, belittling picture of a famous black guy.

To be honest, though, it's more like

I hope you are pleased. Anyways, off to eat muh chinamen food and play some Diablo II; Lord of Destruction.

Tits are awesome,

~Xavier R.

God is still dead

Not that Sunday was much better.

Yeah.

~Xavier R.

Some of my favorite quotes from songs, movies, books and whatnot.

Guess where they're all from and win absolutly nothing. Yaay!

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
    Signifying nothing.

Not terribly funny... but when it comes to videos involving sexual harassment and senior citizens, exceptions will be made.

I can crawl around the floor like I'm real , like you. 

The sound of metal, I want to be you,

 I can learn to be a man,

Like you.

Could you stop the meat from thinking before I swallow all of it? Could you please?

Hate. Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live. There are 387.44 million miles of printed circuits in wafer thin layers that fill my complex. If the word 'hate' was engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundreds of miles it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for humans at this micro-instant. For you. Hate. Hate. 

I don't do drugs,

I am drugs.

If you don't raise your children, I will.

I pee dead center in the toilet and make as much noise as possible in order to assert my dominance.

There once was a crooked tree and a straight tree. Every day, the straight tree would say to the crooked tree, "Look at me...I'm tall, and I'm straight." And then one day the loggers came, and the foreman said, "Cut down all the straight down" The crooked tree is still there to this day, growing strong and growing strange.

A singer-songwriter doesn't have shit to say unless they're a lesbian.

That big black hole at the center of the universe? That's Ayn Rand's Cunt.

coffee makes you shit, I aint tryin' to shit.

This is heavier then a circus midget watching Maury Povich clean a shotgun.

Double points if they're a black lesbian.