User:Frood

Frood, You are missed.

http://www.aeriesguard.com/dune/images/fremenicon2.jpg

Setting Orange, Discord 27, YOLD 3170

Found an amazing guide on how to masturbate in the most unlikely of situations. fun read and informative too! get it here!

Frood Out. > It really works!

Setting Orange, Discord 27, YOLD 3170

=== Artwork = Webloitering. Checking out wierd artwork. Check out Damnengine's artwork section. Words alone cannot describe the range of emotions his artwork evokes. For more wierdly beutiful photoshopped art check out the digital artists section on Abnormis

Frood Out. > bah, i wish i could do that sort of work...and also stuff from digitalblasphemy

Prickle-Prickle, Discord 26, YOLD 3170

''' Duck Taco Project public Entry 1. revision 1, "Ideas, response?" '''

Talking to KunDa on IRC.. thoughts compile. Interaction with others and bouncing ideas back and forth are always a good proving ground for knowing if you are full of shit or not. I like to equate doing so to sparring in martial arts. Sparring isnt Fighting. Sparring is trying your techniques in a controlled enviornemnt to see if your ideas are correct and if they work. If they do you and your sparring partner can figure out how to make them better and learn form them, if they are complete bullshit then both of you can look at them and go "Hrmm, how do we make this work, whats wrong with this? How can we learn from this mistake" Either way it provides a proving ground for new ideas aswell as old ones. New ideas without a proving grounds are usually just bullshit because like lousy technique they usually dont work. and no amount of chest thumping over how you'r the grand wazoo of this style of martial arts of this school of thought is going to make them any better, it just makes you look like an idiot to those who actually prove their techniques. consquently thats why so many martial arts schools sucks in this day and age, no proving ground, people arent interested in learning or improving, just in falling into the "Monkey See Monkey Do" repetition of someone elses actions as long as they are assured that they are doing something right. falling into rote and pattern without proof or effort to investigate a given truth further is a common problem with any religion/thought/martial arts/work/life. you need a proving ground to see if your just full of shit or not. A good proving ground allows you to move forward, to learn and to evolve.

There, I said it again. Evolution. I TOLD YOU I WOULD!

But thats not what I wanted to talk about. I want to present to the Cabal or congregation or anyone who gives a fuck enough to read this an idea thats been fermenting in my head for a few years. I call it The Duck Taco Project!

The essence of the Duck Taco Project is my attempt to map human psychological behavior patterns to mathematical equation. So far I've been stumbling in the dark being an authority on niether psychology or mathematics. I've come up with a couple of basic theories one of which I will lay down.

Frood's Law of Inverses: The behavior a person exhibits externally is directly inverse to the way they subconciously precieves themselves internally. The magnitude to which the internal and external are in constrast with each other is directly related to how full of shit the person is.

I use the term 'Full of shit' in a manner descriptive of how introspective a person is, how far away they are from realizing their own mental state and how honest with themselves they are about their problems and insecurities. An introspective person should be able to examine his behavior while he is exhibiting it. Something akin to having a voice in the back of your head that asks you WHY you are acting in a particular way in a given situation instead of just going on 'autopilot' and not questioning your own motives. I guess the term full of shit means that you are afraid of your insecurities to the point where you are either unable to unwilling to aknowledge or confront them. By not being able to aknowledge/confront your issues you are very likely to get pulled down by negative behavior caused by them without knowing why you are acting in such a manner. In any case, there are levels of 'Full of shitness' which vary from person to person.

Example: People who are bullies or are trying to be excessivly macho are usually covering up for homosexual tendancies or are simply mentally scared little children. Gurls who go out and party and sleep around are usually just sad and looking for attention and love etc. The more your afraid of your inner demons the more your outward behavior will try to compensate. If on the other hand you conquer your inner demons or gain a better understanding of WHY you behave in a certain manner your behavior should be less of a knee jerk reaction to circumstance. According to the law one who is enlightened or at least content is one who's interrior is in harmony with their exterior.

Feel free to refute my law. I require more info to continue the project. any feedback is welcome.

The name comes from a Space Ghost Coast to Coast episode where he has various famous chefs on his show. One of them prepares some duck meat and Space Ghost asks him to put the duck meat in a taco. No real reason for choosing the name other than the fact I thought it was cool.

Frood Out.

P.S I thought about the Duck Taco Project BEFORE I read Isaac Asimov's "The second Foundation" ISBN - 0553293362

> 1) Duck Taco Project??? :P > 2) so far I find no problems with it. (im no authority either just another stumbler in the dark) > I think though that for clarity and information free of 'static' (very difficult to create) you could swap up the > ambiguous words like 'retarded' and 'full of shit' for more clear definitions. Since these words have > multiple meanings to different folk. This is just the purist part of my brain influenced by RobertAntonWilson > who was influenced by Alfred Korzibsky ("Science and Sanity" ISBN 0937298018) > the fellow who explains that our language is archaic and limits our thoughts and expressions due > it obsolete logic refuted long ago (aristotalian logic). > Reading back..my input isn't so constructive. Just feedback > I guess, no additions at the moment. I like where you are going. -KunDa

Pungenday, Discord 25, Year of Our Lady of Discord 3170

"Things to do when you are inspired by your significant other"

I recently found and fondled a gurl of which I am fond. She inspires me to do things which I normally would not do. I will describe the inpirational process in the form of a story.

We were out of condoms. Being out of condoms is akin to being on the titanic and being out of life preserves as the ship is going down. You REALLY want to get off but doing so without one just might kill you. Anyway, we sallied forth to the nearest EVERYTHING-YOU-COULD-POSSIBLY-WANT-24-7-EXCEPT-ON-XMAS-DAY "Super Markets" and consulted their wall of prophylactic majesty. The veriety wasn't astounding but wasn't too shabby either. your basic veriety condoms some with some exciting feature or other such as ultra-thin or ribbed or extra-lubricated etc. Considering that most of these puppies differ in a miniscule amount of lubricant or "RIBS" that are a micron thick and are not felt by females I figured this was just another shameless marketing ploy by people who, while helping me by keeping me alive after having sex, are still commiting some kind of spiritual murder by playing on my insecurities about being able to please women. After consulting my gurl on the matter she said that she knew of no discernable difference between the brands. I suspect that, as any sex related questions I pose to her, she lied to shelter my fragile ego. (An ego so fragile in fact that it prevents me from mentioning her much in this story while glorifying me and my actions, Ahh.. the joys of being a self-involved asshole).

A quick reference to the location of this wonderwall. it is located at a right angle to the line of cash registers and is only partially hidden behind the rest of the pharmapseudocals so when your out there buying penis armor everyone waiting in line can look at your with scorn and maybe slight interest. It seems like the spot in which, if we were a society driven more by smell than by visual input, multiple curiously obtrusive yet friendly crotch sniffings would ensue. But I digress.

Mysteriously there was one of those Blood pressue measuring machines right next to it and unlike the other toys scattered about the entrance of the Ubermarket this one did not require money to tourture your children in. Never one to pass up a free ride I rolled up my sleeve, making sure to raise my arm so as to smell my own pungent armpits thus affirming my manhood, and inserted it into the circular portal of truth. I fancied briefly that my test would require me to cut my arteries/veins open and hook them up to something akin to those "Test your strength" contraptions at carnivals but alas, this hope was shattered when the airbag inside the ring of destiny encircling my arm merely inflated and then slowly deflated supposedly taking measurements and requiring me to "SIT STILL WHILE TESTING!". after the bag had deflated completely I was treated to the results which defined the future of my health insurance above an indicative chart describing the suggested rates for Systolic and Diastolic Pressures.


 * Rating  || Systolic || Diastolic ||
 * Optimal || <120  || <80        ||
 * Normal || <130   || <85        ||
 * High     ||130-139|| 85-89     ||
 * Bad      ||140-159|| 90-99     ||
 * Really Bad||160-179||100-109||
 * You Are Fucked||>179|| >109 ||
 * Your Rating|| 79 || 52 ||


 * Heart Rate|| 62 ||

I can only assume that this is good since I've got no earthly idea what those numbers mean. but as demonstrated by the chart above the farther away I was from the "You are fucked" category the better. I guess less IS more. However my trust in the supermarket blood pressure indicator has been shattered ever since it gave me a rating of 180 over 50 on another occasion when I was deathly I'll and shopping for tuppaware to install a P-133 in to build a Linux Router (an escapade which ended in me choosing a portable plastic filing cabinet for the machine and considering catboxes for rackmounted solutions. more on that later. Maybe) I speculate that it is operated by a small midget lurking in its depths who is in the pay of some pharmapseudocal conglomorate or other, But thats merely speculation.

My gurl scored 130 over 90 with a heart rate of 93. I think she's trying to imply that I should get her pregnant so she can carry more weight around and get some excercise. Then again most of my theories on women are wrong and in fact by the time anyone reads this I will most likely be without a woman again (sooner if she reads this). Again, I digress.

After staring at the wall and discussing the different brands of condoms and their various magical properties I lamented the fact that I could not find any condoms in different colors. My gurl took about 2 seconds to find the pack the location of which my feeble mind could not encompass under such strenous conditions and brought it forth. I looked at her seemingly effortless ability to solve this, as well as many other of lifes great mysteries, with my usual expression of stooped wonder mixed with emberassed incompetance. I considered the package, with its multi colored front with glee and joy at the possibilities of wearing something colorful that is going to a place where, Hopefully, no one can discern color.

"Nice, condoms in all the colors of the rainbow. I wonder if they have a rainbow colored one, then I could say 'Wanna know where the rainbow ends? Here Biatch!' maybe I should check for a leprecon behind my nutsack. Who knows, if I stick this thing in you I might find a pot of gold" or words to that effect. (Trying to make my gurl laugh, I forget what she said if anything. more self involved basterdom on my part).

anyways, after quickly converting the price of the box of condoms and the number of condoms in it to a "$ per fuck" ratio I concluded that it was a small price to pay for the novelty of colored condoms and proceeded to the checkout line, pausing only briefly to grab a pack of gummy bears (Mmmmm.. gummylicious). I joked with my gurl that I would harass the kid working the register by waiting for him to pick up the condoms and then use my gayest accent to ask him what his favorite color is but unfortunately I chickened out and merely payed for the gummies/condoms with only a slight emberassment at his salty toned "Have a good night".

Opon arrival at my abode we opened the box of condoms and inspected their contents. the condoms are wrapped in indevidual square packages which are fluerescent green on one side and transparent on the other, so you can choose your favorite color I guess. after pondering what to do with them for a while (except the obvious) and making numerous Henry Rollins Quotes of "Considering where this thing is going, Who gives a fuck about the color." and chewing on gummy bears I was hit by sudden inspiration. I suggested my idea to my gurl and she laughed and told me she'd help me. I went upstairs and got a reel of selotape and a box of clingfilm normally used to supress the spattering of chicken explosion related juices in my microwave and proceeded to meld the gummies and the condom wrappers, being careful ot match the colors. the result was quite amusing and sucessful. I think everyone should do this.

the process of making these babies involves 2 (or 3 if your planning a 2 gurl 1 guy threesome or are just gummy) placed on a length of clingfilm in some kind of sexual position and then sealed by wrapping the clingfilm around them a couple of times (not too many times so you can still see them) then placed on the transparent side of the condom wrapper so the colors match up and then wrapped a couple more times to secure the gummies to the condom packaging. the only backdraws of this method is that the gummy colors and the condom colors dont always match and that when your in a hurry to get to the condom taking off the clingwrap/gummies can be frustrating.

 You now have something far superior to merely a condom with gummies in it, you have something that will make your sexual experience completely different by its cuteness factor alone, not to mention all the combinations of gummies/condoms you can imagine. This Idea might spark the development of an entire market of products which are accompanied by gummy bears, gummybears inside CPU boxes, gummybears inside ammo boxes, gummybears send to mars etc.. Maybe I should patent this and cash in on it while the fad lasts, which might be a while since everyone (with the exception of the demented and maybe diabetic) love gummy bears.

It was the best idea I had had in months. the mere presence of this gurl inspired me to great lengths of humor and ingenuity. Now if only she can inspire me to pull my head out of my ass and write a story which is less about me and more about her. I hope she will but who knows.

Frood Out.

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[#LizardFury] Pungenday, Discord 25, Year of Our Lady of Discord 3170

==== Sounds from the Cave of Lizards =

Due to my recent adventures into incoherant rambling on KunDa's slice of wiki I've decided it would be more polite if I were to pollute a space hither to unbothered by text. Namely, Mine. Who will read it I do not know. mounds of useless text are sure to ensue as I attempt to populate this corner of the web and whilst those of you who are steady of hand and strong of heart might endevoure to read all of them I will provide this next bulleted list for those of you who want a quick synopsis of what I'll be webloitering about.

The structure of ramblings follows:


 * 1.) Pick some generic topic completely unrelated to whats bugging me
 * 2.) Post some generic comments about said topic
 * 3.) Detiriorate into some vaugly related rethoric concept pertaining to said topic in the most tenous of manners
 * 4.) Disregard topic alltogether and babble about evolution
 * 5.) Come to no real conclusion on the matter but leave people with a distinct feeling of "WTF?" if they bother reading it.

So there you have it, You have been warned. If you dont believe me look at this rant.

Elitist nihilistic angst ridden theories on everything ensue..