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Hello! This is a quick topic at the end of the day, so may well sink like a duck with a rusty engine tied round its neck.
I posted on this thread a link to a rather distasteful site (rape haikus) that I'd found linked to elsewhere. I was shocked, yes, but found some of the things amusing. A sort of horrified lol moment. But, they're sick, aren't they? You can't make fun out of rape? Certainly, I've always been quite touchy about making fun out of some things. Rape, paedophilia etc falling into this category in general.
But, what's this? Since I've inhabitated discussion boards I've become desensitised. The shocking has become mundane. I can snigger at topics that were previously completely off limits. Pictures of goatse are eyepopping but not unusual. The bizarre has become commonplace. Abuse is the common currency, and people try harder and harder to break taboos.
Is this right, and healthy? Have images lost their ability to shock? Is it related to the internet? And how has the internet affected YOU?
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I think Marsk is about to post some offensive (but small) images. At least I hope so. It'll be a real let down if he posts kittens again. Although they did look kinda cute all mashed-up in the paddy-bag.
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Someone start a band with me. We'll call ourselves The Paedophiles and we'll write the catchiest bytes of pop anyone ever heard. Think Freezepop, but mainstream. A record chock-full of trashfashion blips, bleeps, handclaps; guitars like synths and synths like syrup; electrofrazzled Germancornered hot-coals-smouldering boyfalsetto vocals throbbing against the melody. Dump the obscurity, though: we're trying for the new Vengaboys, but without the manufacture. Or with the manufacture, but of our own design. And to the masses we'll sing about the proffered huge hands of men and the tentatively receptive palms of girls. Like the Sugarcubes half-did on Birthday. But worse. Thirteen-year-old girls dragging their pleats sluttishly across their faces. The impossible appeal of yet-flat chests and milky-pink nipples. The tactile beckoning of slippery-smooth pelvises. And we'll wet the pop sticky as sick and douse it in sugar. And we'll load the bass with hooks from opening verse to fade-out refrain. And we'll skewer the harmonies with drum machine candy so the first drumroll loops and you're hooked, lassoed, tethered to the song and no escaping. And it disgusts you - you disgust yourself - that you like it so much, that you cannot resist it. It is wrong, it is wrong, you shouldn't be doing it, you shouldn't be listening - but you can't resist. You are cuffed to the bubblegum keyboards; the chorus riff is stuck spinning behind your eyes; you can think of nothing else, nothing else. You don't want to - you honestly don't - but you're reaching ... reaching fingers for the jewel case, and you're easing it open, plucking out the cd, sliding it slowly into the hifi, and as the heroin pop haemorrhages out you're tapping your toes, you sick perverted fuck, you're shaking your head in time, in collusion, with the drums. And you know it, but you won't stop it, because you can't: know that every time you put the cd in the hifi, you're inching your fingers down a teenage waistband. And your head nods, no, shakes, shakes to the music - it's wrong, remember, wrong, but it feels ... so ... right. What's going on? What is happening to you? It will be catastrophic.
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turbo
Gold..... What is it good for? You can't eat it, you can't smoke it, yet everybody wants it.
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quote:Originally posted by jnhoj: I found out what a "Red sock" was yesterday, that still managed to turn my stomach.
Do I dare ask...?
-------------------- Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names. Posts: 1189
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The new pics of pleasure are courtesy of Tubgirl1 and Tubgirl2 (links cuz... You *REALLY* oughtn't look if you've just had lunch)...
-------------------- Evil isn't what you've done, it's feeling bad about it afterwards... Yield to temptation. It may not pass your way again. Posts: 3793
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