I push m,y fingers into my eyes, it's the only thing that slowly stops the ache. But it's made of all the thing I have to take. Jesus, it never ends, it works it's way inside. If the pain goes on, I'M NOT GONNA MAKE IT!
az ilyen szövegek 99% általános jellegü :) tipikus "mi mossuk kezünket akármi szar történik bárhol bárkivel amihez közünk lenne" stilusu szöveg ;)
"Munkájukat a szerkesztõség felkérése alapján szabadidejükben, a közösségi munka keretein belül végzik. A munkájukat kötelesek pártatlanul, és személyes indíttatások nélkül végezni."
But 100 years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
First of all, Papa Smurf didn't create Smurfette. Gargamel did. She was sent in as Gargamel's evil spy with the intention of destroying the Smurf village. But the overwhelming goodness of the Smurf way of life transformed her. And as for the whole gang-bang scenario, well, it just couldn't happen. Smurfs are asexual. They don't even have... reproductive organs under those tiny, white pants. It's just so illogical, about being a Smurf, you know? I mean, what's the point of living... if you don't have a dick?
Well, what do you wanna hear, man? Do you wanna hear that sometimes I think about eatin' a bullet? Huh? Well, I do! I even got a special bullet for the occasion with a hollow point, look! Make sure it blows the back of my goddamned head out and do the job right! Every single day I wake up and I think of a reason not to do it! Every single day! You know why I don't do it? This is gonna make you laugh! You know why I don't do it? The job! Doin' the job! Now that's the reason!
- Are you telling me there's something running around loose in the city, ripping out people's hearts and eating them so he can take their souls back to hell? - Looks that way. - Hallelujah.
- Then I have no choice but to remand you to the Palace of Justice for processing. - Processing. You mean execution, don't you? - Processing.
Akkor írok én, ha szabad:
"-Billy! Te tudsz valamit. Mi az? -Félek, öregem. -Ugyan, te még az ördögtõl se félsz! -Tisztán érzem, hogy les ránk valami. Valami, ami nem ember. Mind itt halunk meg."