Identifying a Sensitive New Age Troll

Some are self-explanatory.

Please braid my hair 

Some will wipe their sludge all over you, dare you try and escape.

Ragh?

Others will trap you in their labyrinth of fragility. Frequently throwing razor-blade parties and drafting suicide notes amidst a sea of bleeding, like-minded Sensitive New Age Troll pity-pals.

I want to violently weep on your chest when we make love, Lauren. 

Census Report Nation's Singles All Middle-Aged Souls

THIS CRUEL WORLD-- The 2011 Census, conducted nationwide a month ago, revealed that whilst both Australia's "old" and "young souls" were married, or in a serious relationship, middle-aged souls were all still single, boring, and basking in their despair.


Reincarnation Therapist, Dr. Caesar Pythagoras Morpheus said, "People naturally gravitate towards older souls. Their silent complexity is terribly hypnotic...like a fine wine you'd drink and pretend to understand. Young souls, on the other hand, attract mates with their radiating positivity. They're just like a walking anti-depressant...constantly smiling about retarded things like oozing jam and steaming compost heaps. Then we're left with the middle-aged souls who float somewhere in-between. Neither fun or wise. They basically possess all the personality of a badminton shuttlecock. Yeah, they don't even want to date each other. It's really quite sad".


Middle-aged soul, Simon, said something entirely too mediocre to take note of.


The Australian Government suggested middle-aged souls engage in risky behaviour, like running with scissors, to speed up the process.

Bromance Weekly

The Psychic

A short story

I visited a psychic this one time. She assured me I would fall deeply in love with an albino moon tanner from The Netherlands and we'd bare a tribe of drooling mini me' s. She also said he'd be incredibly destitute and totally intimated by my ambition... but not to worry 'cause my priorities will change and I'll be more than down to shack up in his corrugated box of unwavering love. We'd probably just lick each other clean or something... and listen in to the conversations of passers by, for entertainment.

Naturally, I've taken on her prediction as infallible and have adjusted my selection criteria accordingly.

The Fetish

A short story 

So it was your normal thursday night events... I was squatting over James' thorax defecating on him, as he wished. It was quite the spectacle... as it has been known that I seem to have contracted a rather severe case of the some-what taboo bacterial infection; gastrointestinal disruption. Having suffered from the yellow river squirts in its entirety for approximately seven days now, I began to regret having taken The All-Bran Challenge, due to a myriad of un-pleasant subsequent symptoms manifesting themselves in my rectal region. Having quite the self proclaimed budget minded father... seemingly being on a never-ending quest to snatch a barg; toilet tissue is purchased solely for its economic value... which in turn, to my detriment, has created chronic chafe and anal bleeding. Luckily for me, James is deeply in love with me (of course) and regularly proffesses his desire to "have all of me". As he became increasingly aroused he would attack my rear like there was a dollar up there and he were an Ethiopian child in need of a bamboo shoot or various witchetty grubs for necessary vitamins and minerals. Once we had finished our primitive sexual expression, I endeavoured to hit up his bathroom for some quality maintenance slash home medical attention. Resembling a morbidly obese duck with piles, I woddled across the floor and into the hall, only to bump into Yasmin's oaf Popeye like Jaw (his ex). Looking dishevelled and abnormally muscular, she threw herself on me like a fly to shit... I couldn't get rid of her...until her over-powering toxic perfume Eau da Stale Spinach caused temporary blurred vision and eventual suffocation. Lying on the floor un-conscious, exposing my newly acquired largish B-rack and vaginal stubble (complete with a selection of discoloured in-growns)...I slowly regained consciousness to find Popeye towering over me...un-impressed to say the least.   




Disclaimer: Most of the above did not happen on thursday night. 

Explosive for men

Fortune Cookies

Pick a number between one and ten. Then, scroll down to read your fortune.

1. Although you might think it apt to make like a Venus Fly Trap, (warding off all suspecting threats to your dearly beloved) rest assured, your efforts will have irreversible adverse effects. The spawn of your womb will not only despise you, but refuse to take you in, during your last excruciatingly painful months of pancreatic cancer.




2. Your obsession with the finer things in life drives you to live beyond your means. Don't let your life savings dictate your emotional stability. Your happiness is priority. Do use your home as collateral for that nose job. It is not an insecurity on your behalf. Your beak is fairly disconcerting. Stop offending the  public aesthetic and make an appointment today, or at least start wearing a peg to bed. Perhaps that might make some inroads. 




3. A life of abstinence awaits you following a horrific bus accident, leaving you impaled through the groin. On the upside, black dress, sees you looking slimmer then ever.




4. Past illegal substance abuse provides you with a treasure trove of stories for the grand kids. However, subsequent chemical imbalances will see you diagnosed with manic depression. Take this with a grain of salt. Life as a suicidal vegetable, means loved ones feel compelled to nurse you through it.




5. A sudden, but prolonged bout of vomiting, leaves you feeling withered and confused. Pissed, you had them photocopy, a colleague laces your lunch with her cat's Snappy Tom. Chomp on some grass and all will be fine.




6. Diplomatic and personable, people naturally gravitate towards you. Throughout your childhood, everything seemed to come easy. Unfortunately for you, your luck runs dry, when starting a family. Inevitably, your worst fears come true as you realise your doubts were warranted. You should never have left your ex for the promise of fresh milk. Subsequently, the later half of your life will be spent in deep dissatisfaction. Any attempt to temper the sting of loneliness will be bitter sweet for having read this.  




7. You have no fortune. Good luck with that.




8. The future looks most promising for you. Picture yourself basking in a jacuzzi, filled with cold, hard, cash. Gluttonous paper cuts sting almost as much as your feelings of abandonment. Everyone is miserable, so you are no longer considered for company. 




9. She lied. Sock her one. 




10. You consider yourself the life of the party; a positive and upbeat personality. Unbeknownst to you, peers laugh at you, not with you. On the bright side, your lucky to still have company. If you weren't such a complete trollop, you'd be entirely alone and completely destitute. Swallow your pride and know your place.