The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Achewood => Achewood => Topic started by: Victoria Waterfield on March 05, 2009, 11:24:55 pm
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http://www.achewood.com/index.php?date=03052009
EPIC.
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This whole thing is pretty damn awesome. I feel badass just reading, by association.
"...a no-account son of a bitch with half a soul and the balance owed to Judas..."
"Why I must walk this earth, &c."
- A little bit of Jules Winnfield up ins.
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Yeah, it kind of starts out Bad Bad Leroy Brown and kind of reaches a Dolemitical peak around Panel 11 and then it just degenerates into a bit of overwrought soliloquoy.
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Assetbar wins with this comment:
"Ramses planned the pocket dial. He wants to show his son how a man should live, day in/day out. "
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My mom actually WAS like that at parent-teacher conferences. All 5'5" of her, just a tornado of "IT SURE AS FUCK WASN'T MY SON'S FAULT".
Being a floor nurse hardens a woman, I s'pose.
Oh man, a substitute whapped me on the hand with a ruler lightly and that lady never worked in Herkimer County again.
My mom's incredibly strange but rad.
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Can't even eat lunch without destroyin' men and declarin' the death of God. Impressive, but it must be a hard life in some ways. I kind of like being able to just eat a sandwich and read the newspaper, you know?
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Well, you know. "The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides..."
It's hard to be a righteous badass.
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Being ashamed of the world and not myself is a good goal to have. In a way.
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Ramses Smuckles is Cormac McCarthy.
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Ramses Smuckles is a less creepy version of The Judge (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Judge_Holden).
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Can't even eat lunch without destroyin' men and declarin' the death of God. Impressive, but it must be a hard life in some ways. I kind of like being able to just eat a sandwich and read the newspaper, you know?
And that is why no one will remember your name.
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I always thought no one would remember my name because they'd find one of my journal articles in a dusty library stack some decades hence and fall asleep before they finished reading it.
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Never to awake. The next person to stumble down that way finds a pile of mouldering skeletons over a dusty tome and before they call for help their curiosity gets the better of them and they take a quick peek. Soon they are on the pile and the article lies waiting for it's next victim.
Wombat writes the Infinite Jest of academic journals.
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A can for the Infinite Jest reference.
You forgot to mention though, that all of these people would have also crapped themselves before they died.
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Don't people crap themselves when they die? I've heard that. Because your body loses control of its muscles?
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It sounds plausible. I've never been present for anyone's death - for which I am extremely grateful.
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I have, but it wasn't my responsibility to check their drawers. Blankets and such concealed any evidence.