Winnipeg Taught Canada How to mosh

[Rude Boy Puff]

http://www.myspace.com/blackmail204
Winnipeg also holds the key to buried alive worship
ex hollow ground

[age of quarrel]

we have a music game we play in our apartment and buried alive and hollow ground were jammed one after another, buried alive worship is backed! also, winnipeg gave us figure four and despite being super christian that band was terrifying

[age of quarrel]

we have a music game we play in our apartment and buried alive and hollow ground were jammed one after another, buried alive worship is backed! also, winnipeg gave us figure four and despite being super christian that band was terrifying

[Rude Boy Puff]

I am of the opinion figure four worshiped buried alive better than buried alive.
Jesus is choked

[age of quarrel]

I am of the opinion figure four worshiped buried alive better than buried alive.
Jesus is choked

making this my sig

[Tambro]

I'm gonna tell Teney about this thread, haha.

[Hollow]

This kind of reminds me of this nightmare I had.

This is one of those dreams where you're actively watching, i.e. not actually involved, but you're walking around and watching characters interact with each other. Nobody in this dream could see me. I watched as a news van pulled in front of a dilapidated house, screen doors falling off the hinges and roofing tiles hanging on by a nail and a prayer. A female reporter straight out of 1994 pops out, shoulder pads and all, followed by a fat balding camera man. They go running towards the house, with me following. The reporter is running/looking back at the camera and giving a recap of why they're there.

"This old house is the scene of several mass murders. Mainly teenagers and homeless drifters have been found here over the years in various states of dissection. Most recently, three men believed to be the original owners of the house were found gutted and hanging from the rafters. A local sheriffs deputy stated he had field dressed deer in much the same manner."

By the end of this dialog, they've reached the interior of the house. The place is desiccated, empty, and generally creepy as fuck. They (with me following) go into the kitchen. An oven is to our left, to our right counter space, and directly in front of us is a door. The reporter looks at the camera man, who nods and goes towards it. Opening it, he goes through, and we can see the bottom landing of a flight of stairs going upwards into what appears to be an attic. He swings his camera, points it towards the top of the stairs, and stops. He pulls his eye away from the view finder, turns to the reporter and calmly says:

"I love you"

At which point something incredibly fast slams into him from above, the door slams shut, and all the reporter (and me being all invisible) can hear is screaming, tearing, and something...wet. The reporter starts calling out.

"What do you see? John? What is it? Whats going on?"

Then, from behind the door comes a voice. It sounds like a five year old boy.

"Wanna see?"

This keeps repeating, and the door slowly opens.

"Wanna see? Wanna see? Wanna see?" The child's voice continues the mantra, over and over, but what comes out is something else entirely. It's approximately seven feet tall, and bone thin. It's arms are as long as it's entire body with massive hands tipped with filth encrusted claws. It's knees are backwards, and its head is long, oval and completely hairless. It's wearing the camera man's face like a mask, but is somehow able to control the muscles, allowing him to have a fixed, rigid smile that moves with the continuous chant. The things eyes are a pupil-less, milky white.

As it approaches the reporter, who is of course backing away in horror, it continues to repeat itself.

"Wanna see? Wanna see?"

Then, with a swiftness that shouldn't have been possible, it tears out her throat in a spray of crimson. Blood pours freely down its arms, coating its hand.

Then it turns, looks straight at me, and smiles.






I like this band a lot.

[Mikey]

Thanks Willa, I just got out of bed. But I'm fucking awake now.

[keith.]

wait wat

[Hollow]

Thanks Willa, I just got out of bed. But I'm fucking awake now.

You're welcome Mikey. I'm not unlike a Freudian alarm clock.

[grind/bro]

This kind of reminds me of this nightmare I had.

This is one of those dreams where you're actively watching, i.e. not actually involved, but you're walking around and watching characters interact with each other. Nobody in this dream could see me. I watched as a news van pulled in front of a dilapidated house, screen doors falling off the hinges and roofing tiles hanging on by a nail and a prayer. A female reporter straight out of 1994 pops out, shoulder pads and all, followed by a fat balding camera man. They go running towards the house, with me following. The reporter is running/looking back at the camera and giving a recap of why they're there.

"This old house is the scene of several mass murders. Mainly teenagers and homeless drifters have been found here over the years in various states of dissection. Most recently, three men believed to be the original owners of the house were found gutted and hanging from the rafters. A local sheriffs deputy stated he had field dressed deer in much the same manner."

By the end of this dialog, they've reached the interior of the house. The place is desiccated, empty, and generally creepy as fuck. They (with me following) go into the kitchen. An oven is to our left, to our right counter space, and directly in front of us is a door. The reporter looks at the camera man, who nods and goes towards it. Opening it, he goes through, and we can see the bottom landing of a flight of stairs going upwards into what appears to be an attic. He swings his camera, points it towards the top of the stairs, and stops. He pulls his eye away from the view finder, turns to the reporter and calmly says:

"I love you"

At which point something incredibly fast slams into him from above, the door slams shut, and all the reporter (and me being all invisible) can hear is screaming, tearing, and something...wet. The reporter starts calling out.

"What do you see? John? What is it? Whats going on?"

Then, from behind the door comes a voice. It sounds like a five year old boy.

"Wanna see?"

This keeps repeating, and the door slowly opens.

"Wanna see? Wanna see? Wanna see?" The child's voice continues the mantra, over and over, but what comes out is something else entirely. It's approximately seven feet tall, and bone thin. It's arms are as long as it's entire body with massive hands tipped with filth encrusted claws. It's knees are backwards, and its head is long, oval and completely hairless. It's wearing the camera man's face like a mask, but is somehow able to control the muscles, allowing him to have a fixed, rigid smile that moves with the continuous chant. The things eyes are a pupil-less, milky white.

As it approaches the reporter, who is of course backing away in horror, it continues to repeat itself.

"Wanna see? Wanna see?"

Then, with a swiftness that shouldn't have been possible, it tears out her throat in a spray of crimson. Blood pours freely down its arms, coating its hand.

Then it turns, looks straight at me, and smiles.






I like this band a lot.

[age of quarrel]

welp.... Willa just prefictly personified suffering the loss by figure four

[Hollow]

welp.... Willa just prefictly personified suffering the loss by figure four

Pretty much. Although, most of my nightmares tend to have Ringworm as their soundtrack.









Man I love sleeping.