Bullet Proof Soul

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

No matter how many times I’m told as to how the story will unfold, I’ll never listen

Poised the piston to my heart and left a hole, when all I really needed was a bullet proof soul

Kept pushing and pressing to make it all about me, it said more about my inadequacy than your decency…..can’t you see?

Gave a little piece, whilst you gave a sour taste

Bared all, laid yourself out to waste

You didn’t desire my pity, but how could I refuse?

No matter the consequence, from thence, you could never lose

All I wanted was to dress the wounds and cover you in a sheath of cotton

The childhood battles of the rum and rattles that were professed as forgotten, begotten

You took a pill to erase the care. Instead, it left a vacant stare

That only I could foresee, it was never about you, always about me

As the story unfolds, the memories linger as mould and take it’s toll

All I wanted was to save, but I could barely behave myself

I made your mental health worse

And as the memories rehearse and show the truth

My soul then becomes bullet proof

[HermitParticipant]

Combover, you piece of schit……………

The evil in women’s hearts leaves them no moral bounds as to inhibit them from descending to the lowest levels of darkness to acquire their self entitled desires.

[Gravel PitParticipant]

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

You didn’t desire my pity, but how could I refuse?

brilliant!

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

All I wanted was to dress the wounds and cover you in a sheath of cotton

word up bro.

By the way, I noticed today. This website isnt live (as we all know.) It seems to be stuck because the latest public forum post is over 5 weeks old.

We’re basically all penpals on an exclusive, inaccessible, filled-in sand hole, in a forgotten and misunderstood corner of a larger, also unheard of, Manosphere.

I sort of relish the remoteness. Sort of like that dark country silence ’round here, at night you can see the Milky Way. Throw a rock down the canyon and hear the repeating ricochet. And down there at the bottom, I see the impenetrable perch, nesting place of the invulnerable guru. A Tomcat sharpening his fangs and claws, amusing himself with inconsequential particulars. He laughs and only he, hears himself. The joy of the self-made dimension.

[Gravel PitParticipant]

Gravel Pit wrote:

nesting place of the invulnerable guru. A Tomcat sharpening his fangs and claws, amusing himself with inconsequential particulars. He laughs and only he, hears himself.

MEOW -YOW–WWW

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

Hermit wrote:

Combover, you piece of schit……………

This is one turd you can’t glitter.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

Gravel Pit wrote:

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

You didn’t desire my pity, but how could I refuse?

brilliant!

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

All I wanted was to dress the wounds and cover you in a sheath of cotton

word up bro.
By the way, I noticed today. This website isnt live (as we all know.) It seems to be stuck because the latest public forum post is over 5 weeks old.
We’re basically all penpals on an exclusive, inaccessible, filled-in sand hole, in a forgotten and misunderstood corner of a larger, also unheard of, Manosphere.
I sort of relish the remoteness. Sort of like that dark country silence ’round here, at night you can see the Milky Way. Throw a rock down the canyon and hear the repeating ricochet. And down there at the bottom, I see the impenetrable perch, nesting place of the invulnerable guru. A Tomcat sharpening his fangs and claws, amusing himself with inconsequential particulars. He laughs and only he, hears himself. The joy of the self-made dimension.

Howdy doo dee Mr Pit. My sentiments exactly regarding the inactiveness and thus exclusiveness of this obscure site. Originality will NEVER be mainstream. The few potent members left, including yourself(even that bloody Herm!) have a mindset that only social pariahs can appreciate and embrace.

I don’t want to be liked or understood by the lemmings, just left to my own devices.

I like the pics, still have to compose a poem about “Gusset Reading”

Keep Colon stretching those cowboy hat wearers matey!

[Gravel PitParticipant]

Oceans of carpet.
Mountain-crested drapes.
A home is a vast wilderness for a child.
Each closet is an uncharted, ominous cave. Bedroom doors, but Stargates to alien realms.
And god’s speed to the reaches of Mommy System where strange technology curls hair.
Where toxic paints and powder adorn her claws and decaying flesh. Her stink is delicious.
One’s first taste always conjures an unquenchable thirst. When he wrangles her soiled panties from the hamper.
And thus the Oedipus phallus is shrunk frightful to Mommies palpable presence, asleep she stirs and excites the boundless imaginings of a youthful cortex.
And tighty-whities are made gooey, pillow humping. Wiping sand castles from sleepy eyes.
The laundry is fresh and folded. The sun is risen, burning retinas.
Our animals are released into the cityscape.

[Gravel PitParticipant]

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

still have to compose a poem about “Gusset Reading”

plenty of time my Lad oh. Plenty of epochs remaining.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

Gravel Pit wrote:

Oceans of carpet.Mountain-crested drapes.A home is a vast wilderness for a child.Each closet is an uncharted, ominous cave. Bedroom doors, but Stargates to alien realms.And god’s speed to the reaches of Mommy System where strange technology curls hair.Where toxic paints and powder adorn her claws and decaying flesh. Her stink is delicious.One’s first taste always conjures an unquenchable thirst. When he wrangles her soiled panties from the hamper.And thus the Oedipus phallus is shrunk frightful to Mommies palpable presence, asleep she stirs and excites the boundless imaginings of a youthful cortex.And tighty-whities are made gooey, pillow humping. Wiping sand castles from sleepy eyes.The laundry is fresh and folded. The sun is risen, burning retinas.Our animals are released into the cityscape.

Good stuff, soiled muff.
Did you compose the objects in the pics? I like the coloured houses, reminds me of Scandinavia.

I never relayed the time did I when I shared a house with a old(60s) couple? I was feeling particularly fruity that evening as I strolled past the washing machine and saw an X large pair of panties on the floor. With stealth, I positioned them to my strouth mouth.
I then went upstairs and proceeded to expel my tadpoles into that gusset crevice. One of the best chops I have ever had!

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

Gravel Pit wrote:

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

still have to compose a poem about “Gusset Reading”

plenty of time my Lad oh. Plenty of epochs remaining.

Tis true. However, the nano’s are propulsing by rapidly. Once I give my Aorta to the slaughter, then it’s game over me ol chum.

[Gravel PitParticipant]

There will be a Gusset Reading poem, dont you worry. Whether you write it, or me. There will probably be many versions and sequels to it. On my honor, I swear to thee!

You have to check your gussets man, dotn just throw them in the hamper. The key to your future is written in the seam. Like the time when a kid pulls out a piece of toast from the toaster and it has the Virgin Mary imprinted on it. Revelation!

As so, the Gusset may have a sh!t stain shaped like a bursting heart. This means a Stroke may be approaching… or you had Taco Bell the night before. LOL.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

Gravel Pit wrote:

There will be a Gusset Reading poem, dont you worry. Whether you write it, or me. There will probably be many versions and sequels to it. On my honor, I swear to thee!
You have to check your gussets man, dotn just throw them in the hamper. The key to your future is written in the seam. Like the time when a kid pulls out a piece of toast from the toaster and it has the Virgin Mary imprinted on it. Revelation!
As so, the Gusset may have a sh!t stain shaped like a bursting heart. This means a Stroke may be approaching… or you had Taco Bell the night before.
LOL.

I like it! What if they smell like Roses? Does that mean I really have to wake-up AND smell the bastard Roses……I enjoy being in this bubble, until it bursts!

[HermitParticipant]

Combover, I bet you sit around your place and schit your pants and don’t even bother to get up and clean yourself.

The evil in women’s hearts leaves them no moral bounds as to inhibit them from descending to the lowest levels of darkness to acquire their self entitled desires.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

Hermit wrote:

Combover, I bet you sit around your place and schit your pants and don’t even bother to get up and clean yourself.

Of course my Horse, I’m in a bastard coma!
Now go and photocopy or whatever you office turds do and leave me to wallow in my faeces.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

I just thought, you know what rhymes with Herm? Worm! ha ha!
Yeah, you are now known as Herm the office worm.

[Gravel PitParticipant]

What if Colin really is in a Coma? and they have him hooked up to wires so he can express and inflict his dormant persona to the interwebs. All this is but a midsummer’s night dream for the vegetablized limey.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

Gravel Pit wrote:

What if Colin really is in a Coma? and they have him hooked up to wires so he can express and inflict his dormant persona to the interwebs. All this is but a midsummer’s night dream for the vegetablized limey.

I really am in a coma. What do I need to do to convince…..send my Colostomy bag to tumbleweed town?
And less of the Limey, I am Svenska!! ha ha

[HermitParticipant]

Combover, I bet you turn upside down and pi.ss on your own face.

The evil in women’s hearts leaves them no moral bounds as to inhibit them from descending to the lowest levels of darkness to acquire their self entitled desires.

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5067]

Hermit wrote:

Combover, I bet you turn upside down and pi.ss on your own face.

Shut your pasta hole you boring yank and do some exercise by walking across the office floor……numpty.

[HermitParticipant]

Colin Combover in a Coma wrote:

Hermit wrote:

Combover, I bet you turn upside down and pi.ss on your own face.

Shut your pasta hole you boring yank and do some exercise by walking across the office floor……numpty.

LOL That was a pretty good one! It was great to read some real words for a change, as opposed to your usual nonsensical ramblings. Almost as if you’re a real person. I may not mind talking to this dude. Why don’t you let him out more often?

The evil in women’s hearts leaves them no moral bounds as to inhibit them from descending to the lowest levels of darkness to acquire their self entitled desires.

[Author]

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