A Day in Paradise.

Once upon a time there was Sara. Sara could easily be considered a sexy person who’s style probably would not appeal to all.

All her friends knew her as a naked large breasted drunken satanic priestess with tattoos and piercings that drives a sports car and once was pulled over by the police and was forced to endure a gang bang by the whole police headquarters while performing a black mass with a 21″ strap-on, making the Police chief her bitch…

From that event a beautiful friendship was born that has endured to this day. Boy, that was a good strap-on, she hasn’t used another ever since. She also took a vow. She would never wash it. Everybody knows that washing strap-ons ruins their flavor.

Which bring us to her day job, the candy store. Where she fulfill her dream of selling candy to children, and their parents of course.

She had all the flavors you could think, but the most sought out one was the ‘large black dildo on steroids with nutra sweet’. That was popular with the young children and divorced women that joined her congregation alike…

The maintenance and raw material for the production of such successful candy was guaranteed by her night job. Anal fisting masochist mistress. She could also keep her sweet dildo at use. And she did. She would drive it deeply and harshly through any ass as no one could. Obviously such perfectly toned activity could only be carried out by a professional so in touch with its tools. Sara was the best at it.

The fame for both her jobs grew larger and larger. It even got to the point where her candy customers would ask for a glimpse of her strap-on to drool, and her nightly customers would ask for candy, shoved in all the wrong places of course, while drooling, but in this case the drooling was because they’re mouth was filed with the end all be all of dildos, giving them the taste they were anxiously awaiting for.

Unsatisfied customers or event critics were dealt with in a most delightful way. People that even thought about questioning Sara’s methods or services was instantaneously bitch slapped into reason. Afterwards they were sent to the deepest most dark corners of Sara’s dungeon, to be later on reborn as eternal sex slaves and disciples, showing nothing but utmost devotion and pain tolerance. Constipations were instantaneously cured by the conversion process and both Prince Albert and Princess Albertina were commonly known to appear.

And then there was Alice. She lived in her wonderland, with vanishing cats, rabbits with hats and queens with large fury pussys. What she liked most about her wonderland was the Egg that she always tried to fit into her behind without breaking. This activity brought her serious health problems as her rectum became injured by all the egg shells that pierced it. She had to stop shitting for a while, which explains why she always talked crap.

Eventually she meet Sara. She was the best thing that ever happened to her, after the discovery of nicely shaved pubs, and ball gags.

Her rectal injury almost took her life when the king tried to fuck her ass and got with his dick all scratched by the egg shells. The queen noticed the king’s fucked-up dick and tried to have her head. By head I obviously mean, suck her strap-on that unfortunately was covered with rusty tetanus infected razor blades.

When all seamed lost Alice managed escape her wonderland by stop doing drugs. All was accomplished with the help of Sara, that stuck her strap-on into Alice’s throat for about a week. This way she had no choice but to use her nose only to breathe.

And both lived happily ever after as a lesbian, fist fucking, lollipop sucking, cherry licking, waxed nipples, satanic priestesses that did black masses on Sunday afternoons, dynamic duo.

Mohebius & Metal Storm

The Longest Chimera

This title was not chosen by chance, but by deep consideration. I will not write about my opinion of the band “Chimaira” which I do hold in dear respect (Rock on). This post is about the longest chimera of them all, Life. No, I’m not insane (at least not completely) I will not try to explain the intricacies, mysteries or solutions to one’s life. I am going to talk about friendship.

As all journeys need companions so does life. I cannot imagine enduring such a voyage, the single most difficult test laid upon us all, by myself. I confess that I am nothing by my own. I love spending whole evenings by myself, but while finding strength in the knowledge that there are people which I can rely on.

All this did not come in vain, it is not a simple collection of ideas, it has a reason. You see, I lost one of my dearest friends, if not my dearest friend, not long ago. I lost him not by fatality, not due to foul play but by choice. Few things in my whole life where so hard to surpass.

Ever since I knew him, I kept facing different challenges in my life. Some were hard to accomplish, some were easily conquered but all contributed in some manner to my evolution as a person. I kept meeting different people, some more educated, some mode sophisticated but all giving me the opportunity to learn and evolve with them too. I never imagined that while I just grew up I would come to find most of my friend’s behavior and ideology intolerable.

I’m not an intolerant person. I am not someone who’s idea must prevail above all. My friend simply did not change. At least not in the same way I did. I matured along the years and ten years passed since I first knew him. I saddens me to have to come to the conclusion that he still acts like a 16 year old and shares the same cultural background as one too. I am not one to discuss which of our personalities is better or worst, my point is we grew incompatible.

A series of unfortunate events led me to notice this but ignored it as it could simply be a misconception on my part, maybe I was being to harsh on him. The last drop was a simple “just for fun” argument turned sour, during the whole conversation I could only think “My god, are you a complete moron?” and everything he said could be effortlessly translated into “Yes I am, how come you never noticed?”.

And I never really did notice… but now you talk about it. Goodbye.

Metal Storm

Love thy neighbour…

“Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is united by it alone. Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.”

Leo Tolstoy – War and Peace – Book XIII, Ch. 16

Today we’ll conduct a poll with the objective of discovering where do you stand on lacie underwear.

A – It’s a must
B – Yes i like it
C – Does it show?
D – Been there, done that.
E – Under where???

I myself am a firm believer on fancy underwear. I mean, if they must use it we might as well enjoy it.
And nothing says more about a woman than her underwear and the way she reveals it.
Underwear is like advertising. If used properly it can sell everything.

And then there is the all lingerie thing. Man i do love lingerie. All women should wear lingerie.
If they would the marriages would last longer, or why do you think man have affairs? Because mistress sluts wear better lingerie.
And of course, suck better… On the “Marriage Manual for Wives” there should be an entire chapter for wearing lingerie, and of course, one for the art of sucking.

But the thing that appeals the most to me is how graphic everything is when good lingerie is involved: you instantly know that it will be an awesome ride! If you get one actually hot girl wearing some granny underpants, you always get that shiver that says “oh shit, it goes all the way to her ears, kind of feeling”, even if the girl is actually a sex goddess…
Of course no sex goddess would wear such a fucking ugly thing (not even on laundry day, after a tornado in the middle of the rain forest). But with goodol’ laced underwear you’ll feel right as rain (and you’ll be holding yourself back from jumping on that like a lightning).

So if you get a choice, choose lingerie, choose awesome, choose living la vida loca, choose sucking without braces.

Mohebius & Charoum.

The art of Patience

“This does not mean that the enemy is to be allowed to escape. The object is to make him believe that there is a road to safety, and thus prevent his fighting with the courage of despair. After that, you may crush him.”

Sun Tzu

Last week i had to take a trip with some acquaintances.
And let me tell you, going on a trip is well overrated, specially those abroad.
In one word, FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck and fuck.
And in case i wasn’t clear enough, FUCK…

Now that we got that out of the way, people can be such pricks some times.
And when you think you can tolerate some one, they go the extra mile and fuck you, fuck your patience and fuck your money.
Don’t get me wrong, if it was a woman doing that, i would give my money as well spent, but an acquaintance?…
I think that’s a little bit too much, just a little…

Don’t you just hate it when you have an acquaintance that needs to have the last word about everything?
Don’t you just hate it when you have an acquaintance that thinks his always right about everything?

But the worst thing is when he tells you that he values your opinion and then just ignores you, or even worst, tells you you can any pick a color as long as it’s black.

So to them all i have two words FUCK YOU.
Join me in saying this liberating words, FUCK YOU!
Come on, you know you can do it, it’s easy, say it, FUCK YOU, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

And with that we finish today’s lesson on anger management.
Tá tá

Mohebius