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Thank you for the crits, CantDecideOnAName!
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Jan 4, 2018 13:18
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| # ¿ Mar 20, 2025 23:22 |
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I appreciate all the crits!
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Jan 10, 2018 15:13
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apophenium posted:Ah gently caress. I hosed up. I hosed up. I'll fight you, failure. Oh, and here's the 
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Jan 15, 2018 17:20
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Prompt?
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Jan 16, 2018 20:04
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Greco-Latinate Brawl! (apophenium vs Aesclepia) Indulgence poo poo 620ish words Patrick had never seen a better place to poop than this. It was behind the Main Street bank, shielded from the cross-street by the dumpster, but tantalizingly visible from one sliver of an angle of Main Street itself. The low end of a retaining wall from the parking lot came right up to the spot: perfect for steadying one rear end-cheek. The problem, of course, was that Patrick was not currently on a public-pooping mission. He was on his lunch break and only had ten minutes to get back to the office before people were going to notice. Not nearly enough time to have a proper poo poo. Certainly not enough time to casually approach the defecation station so that no one saw him heading there. He was in his favorite suit – charcol pinstripes – and nice new shoes. Not his usual pooping attire. He paused and pulled out his phone to cover his thoughts. He distinctly remembered the day he had confessed to it. It had been sweltering, so he couldn't tell if his sweat had been from telling his weird guilty pleasure or the heat. “Father, I also have done a thing which may or may not be a sin.” “Tell me, my son.” “I have pooped in public.” “What do you mean? Like out in the woods, while camping?” “No, father. Behind a restaurant at midnight on Tuesday.” “Ah. Well, Deuteronomy tells us that when we defecate, we should cover it up for the Lord walks among us. So it is a minor sin in the great scheme of things. Ten Hail Marys, and you should wait for a toilet next time.” Patrick didn't leave turds for anyone to see every time he had to poop, of course. It was just damned fun sometimes. Which brought him to today's dilemma. Time was ticking. He did have to poop sometime today. But this was far less anonymous than his previous adventures. His coworkers also came down this street on lunch breaks. What the hell, dude? he asked himself. You've got work to do, you're wasting break, you might even get poop on your shoes and then the whole office might smell it. Patrick blinked as he realized he'd really, really enjoy knowing that the entire stupid cubicle farm could smell poo poo and it was his. But his manager was on one of his crusades to keep everyone's breaks from getting “too long”. As if eleven minutes is so much worse than ten minutes. Patrick was already in danger of getting back late even without pausing to do the doo. He glanced over at the bowel movement oasis and felt his willpower break. Patrick quickly walked to the corner, came up the side street to the alley, and confirmed that The Spot was only visible from the street. He navigated around the dumpster, smelling smells that he never really wanted to smell. Rotting something, sickly sweet unidentified I-don't-even-know. Patrick positioned himself and lowered his pants. The low wall did indeed steady him, even as the cold concrete grated against his skin. Patrick pulled his phone out just to look like he was doing something, but he was concentrating on evacuating his bowels and the cold, open air around his bits. There was something different about being exposed in public than wandering naked after a shower in the confines of an apartment or house. It always felt colder, but never unpleasant. Patrick didn't linger on that train of thought, instead wondering who would first find this bowel movement. He smiled. Then he looked up, and as the large, distinctively-scented log exited his body and hit the ground, Patrick's eyes met his secretary's eyes as she walked past. Hers widened and his slid away to his phone. He was officially late.
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Jan 21, 2018 12:55
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Thranguy posted:Interprompt: Explain a joke. What's the last thing that goes through a bug's mind when it hits a windshield? Has my life had meaning? Did I procreate enough? I'm not sure 2 million was enough. Mmm, fecal matter. Its rear end! But... Exactly! Because the speed of the moving vehicle propels the rear end end through the head, so very literally, the rear end goes through the head! That only makes sense if the bug is facing the windshield. Look, it's supposed to be a joke. Aesclepia fucked around with this message at 16:12 on Feb 19, 2018 |
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Feb 19, 2018 14:37
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newtestleper posted:Please don't rear end me To dinner? But I thought I meant something to you, Newt!
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Mar 13, 2018 21:15
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| # ¿ Mar 20, 2025 23:22 |
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BeefSupreme posted:yeah sure I can do this thing I love rubrics! But I did hear that judging was supposed to happen? No judging means no prompt. Judge doesn't look like a word anymore. Cake.
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Apr 10, 2018 03:07
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