Thanks to Archive.org
To celebrate the one week lost (Can I say lost if I know exactly where
it was the last time it was there ? Anyway...) of my scooter here is a
little up date of the situation :
Day one :
- Realizing the lost
- Calling the police
- Calling insurance broker
- Police calling back : "You come to us, we don't go, we sit on ass and eat donut !"
- Police station; filling report; having a hell of a time finding my vehicle in the dB
- Policeman at station:"You know your license was outdated that vehicle will be impound if it get checked out."
- Me, smiling politely
Skipping one day,
skipping an other day,
Day 4 :
- Insurance call back
- Need certificate of the car and bill form from the store, thank you bye.
- certificate was, obviously, in the seat of the scooter (But it is so convenient that way !)
- Bill from the store is ... is ... is ... hum !? Where the hell is that thing ...
Day 6 :
Calling Topmoto (Real name thank you very much.) Ok ! No problem they
still have a copy of it (Obviously !) I just have to wait for them to
call me back when they find it and then I just go pick it up and bring
25 buck to receive it !?!
- Hanging up the phone (I'm having so much fun right now !)
Day 7 (What the hell ? Those number don't add ?) :
- Not thinking about it.
Day 8 (Ok ! It has actually been 9 days.) :
- Pretending to think about it.
Day 9 :
- Calling the SAAQ (For the staters that would be like the license office thing...)
- New certificate for the scooter 4$
Renewing license 72$ But good news ! Since you are renewing your
license you don't have to pay the four bucks to have a new paper issue
- HURRAY !! Hey wait a minute ! ...
- Still no trace of the 25$ original bill ?
think all of this could be resume in one word, starting with an "f",
ending with a "k" and compose in the middle in part with a "c" and a
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
By Matthew Stokoe 1997
In the basic of thing (If there was one) this book should be in the horror section of any good book store but in reality this novel should be lock up in a cage in the basement of some unknown secret society aiming at the protection of the remains of food in your stomach.
Saying that this novel is disgusting would be like giving 1 star to the best and most pricey hotel in the world.
Here is, what I think, could resume what this novel is about :
"Wake up, Mama. Breakfast time."How could I put this ? In this novel, Steven is the good guy. Don't be fool, that book is sick, made me almost vomit 4 time in 4 chapters but somehow, for an unknown reason, I just can't stop reading it.
She didn't move when he kicked her, so he took hold of one of her ankle and dragged her along the passage to the kitchen. Her dress rode up over her thighs, then further to her hips and Steven watched the scummed over, grey-haired cunt spread stickily open. Lumps of fat around her arse snagged on splinters of wood and ripped.
The Hagbeast woke groggily.
"Let go of me, you shit. Let the fuck go of me."
Dried puke flaked from her chin. She struggled to sit up but Steven kept pulling.
"Not far to go, Mama."
His shit was the colour of almond skin and almost liquid. It squirted out of his hole in a juddering stream and slopped over his thumbs as he held the plates under his arse. The meat at Lucy's had worked well.
"Here you are, Mama."
So to resume, if you are into cow fucking, shit for breakfast, home anal probe, dog brain smashing and cow rebellion, this book might just be what you always dreamed of !
Distributed by Creation Books, if it is not available in a book store near you, try Amazon.com (.ca, .fr, .uk ...)
at 9:57 AM