A little taste of the novel in progress
Here is a little bit of the numerology writings:
I was really thirsty as I walked up the hill. It was very steep and I hadn’t stopped for hours. I decided I would reward myself with a rest when I reached the top. I had been sitting at the top for about five minutes when a strange thing happened. A moose strolled up to me and began smelling me. The moose was wearing a red sweatshirt.
“You smell like cat piss.” he said.
“You talk?” I said.
“Is your mother’s pussy loose?” he sarcastically replied.
“What?”
“I have jizz all over my sweatshirt.”
“What?”
“Raccoon jizz.”
“Raccoon jizz?”
“Yeah, fuckhead. A horny mother-fucking raccoon started humping my back and shot his wad all over my brand-new sweatshirt.”
I stood there shocked, not knowing what to say. The moose gave me one last look and walked away. I sat there for about ten minutes and then started to walk again. I walked down the hill and back into the forest. I found a path and then walked until I came upon a priest. He was praying.
“Hello?” I said, puzzled.
He turned around, startled. “Hello, sir.” He replied.
“Father,” I said, “What are you doing out here in the forest?”
“Repenting.”
“Repenting for what?”
“Sins.”
“Such as?”
“Well, I’ve been having impure thoughts about Mary, the mother of god. I just feel that hot slut’s legs wrapped around me. Her tight virgin pussy engulfing my hard cock. I have an erection.”
I looked down at his robe, and he surely did have a hard on. I felt ill. What was going on? Who is this guy? Did that moose really talk to me? Why do I have an erection now too?
Not knowing the answers to these questions, I began walking again. I walked away, in a daze, barely hearing the priest screaming something about a “blessed ejaculation.”
I kept walking for about a half an hour and then, feeling tired, I decided to take a nap. I don’t know how long I slept for, but I do remember waking up to a large raccoon sticking his erect penis in my face. He was moaning and mumbling something about cheddar cheese. I stumbled away from the large animal, but he kept chasing me. I was terrified. I had no idea what to do. A moment before the raccoon caught me, a radiant being appeared between the two of us. It was emitting a massive light. After shading my eyes for a second, I was able to make out the figure. It was Mary, the blessed virgin, and she spoke, saying, “Little raccoon, leave this man alone, hump him no more.” The raccoon turned, and walked away. Then Mary turned to me, she smiled, looked me in the
eye, and said, “Give it to me up the ass, big boy.”
The END.
7/5/00
I’m writing to check if this pen works. Since I now know it does, I’m going to stick it up your hairy, rancid ass and twist it until your colon screws through your nutsack and your testicles drop out onto the floor like a pair of spilled marbles. Then I will pull my hand out of your ass, pick your testicles off the floor, and fry them in a vat of canola oil. I will take your testicles out and let them cool for five minutes before serving them to your senile grandmother who just smiles and drools all over her plate and says, “Larry, these garbanzo beans are delicious.”
"Yes, you dirty, old slut,” I say, “They are delicious.”
THE END.
7/5/00
A while back a group of bright-eyed high school students, myself included, took on a profound task, to create a masterpiece of literature. Something that would rival Shakespeare, Byron, Blake, Orwell, etc. Masterpiece being such a relative word, I would say that we succeeded.
However, the slaves that perfection that we are, we have reviewed our work and I have summarized what we did wrong and have provided solutions that will make our upcoming releases more spectacular than those that went before it.
I have done some analysis of our previous work and have detected quite a few flaws. The first mistake that I noticed is that we relied quite heavily upon the penis as a source of humor. Although I can see some comical merit to the plight of the penis, it’s just not that funny. The penis is a reproductive organ that is accompanied by a scrotum containing two testicles. Why the penal organ is funnier than the heart, another vital organ, is beyond me. The fact that upon sexual arousal the penis grows hard and that even further sexual arousal may produce an ejaculation is not meant to be funny, it is supposed to be beautiful. If it weren’t for ejaculations none of us would be here. At this time, I’ld like to request a moment of silence in tribute to all ejaculations worldwide. Since the penis was a large portion of our content it is going to be difficult to come up with further subject matter. After thinking for several hours I came up with something that could now become a prime source of our material, the vagina. Just the word “vagina” is funny, let alone it’s other hilarious characteristics.
That problem solved I will move on to the next glaring dilemma. Somewhat related to the first problem, the 2nd problem was a heavy reliance upon masturbation jokes. Like the penis, masturbation is just not funny. I for one wholeheartedly support masturbation. I am not alone on this view, Former Attorney General Jocelyn Elders even furthered my beliefs when proposing to teach masturbation in school. People laughed then, but I bet people are kicking themselves now, not only would it be an easy A, but also would take away from other not so useful classes like algebra and history. I ask you this if you had a choice between learning about the French Revolution or wacking off, which would you choose?
The glorification of drugs and alcohol is problem number three. Drugs are bad, we know that. But for some reason drugs are funny. What could be more hilarious than people injecting drugs into their bodies in an attempt to escape a harsh reality. My sides are splitting just thinking about Snorting some cocaine. Throwing away one’s life is a goldmine for literary humor. However, wishing to retain journalistic integrity we must become responsible members of the media and entertainment community. As a pro-active move to counter our negative impact in our previous works, we will now incorporate powerful subliminal messages encouraging our readers to take up bike riding and other wholesome activities like stamp collecting.
Finally, upon further review of our previous work, we were decidedly sexist. I am going to have to claim ignorance on this, being socially isolated I am unaware of what women find offensive. But apparently we went way over the line. I apologize and promise not to offend the female community anymore. We want both sexes to be able to comfortably read our work without being embarrassed or offended. In fact, we plan on hiring a female to proofread our work before it is published so that she can edit out any offensive material. So if you’re a fine piece of ass who can proofread, bake us cookies, and give stellar oral sex please contact us.
In conclusion, it has been a few months, almost a year since I last contributed to this fine piece of literature, a collection of genius that is destined for immortal and eternal greatness. While on the other hand, its’ contents have almost certainly sealed a place in hell for its’ contributors. Over the past year I believe that the contributors have matured greatly, however our literary talent never quite has been on par with our maturity. So what follows is more perverted, strange, and less than comprehensible attempts at both education and entertainment.
Matthew C. Panfil Esquire
Matthew Panfil
Up all night, watching midget porn,
Wearing my favorite sweatpants
The ones with the crotch that is torn,
To provide easy access for my hands
I’ve been sitting here for several hours
Needless to say I’m a little bit smelly
Because I’ve given up on daily showers
And I can’t see my wang because of my beer belly
Haven’t gotten laid in at least 9 years
Women find me rather repulsive
Some say I resemble Norm from Cheers
The only joy in the life I live
I find in my sweet, sweet midget porn
I write death threats to minor celebrities
Wishing they and I had never been born
A bottle of whiskey, bottle of cheese
I truly am the King of Sleaze.
Matthew Panfil
Hi, my name’s Ron
How may I turn you on?
Perhaps first some erotic foreplay
$4.95 a minute is all you have to pay
Maybe a message with some exotic lotion
Or would you like my friend Steve to join in?
Would you like to caress my chest
While I slowly get undressed
We can passionately kiss
Or just get down to business
We can do it hard and rough
Or soft like lace and fluff
Either way, you better hope your bed is sturdy
As we make love I’ll talk real dirty
Tell you how you’re oh so tight
As I screw you all night
I’ll leave you begging for more
Because I’m a telephone man whore
Matthew Panfil
