Saturday, August 06, 2005

Why I love craigslist

There are a lot of things to do with idle time. I engage in several pastimes including but not limited to porn, in my leisure hours. One of the many is fucking with people on Craigslist. Tonight, in my boredom, I posted the following (don't pass judgment, dude):

Beaten and humiliated — 25 — Marina del Rey

I was beaten and humiliated tonight at a bar in West LA. The guy said his name was Larry Stricko. I'm looking for a tough fucker to help me seek him out and make him pay. Your reward could be worthwhile. I'm a beautiful tall blonde, modest and intelligent. I have a good sense of humor and a classical education. I don't deserve fucksters like this Stricko character. I have a few leads on where to find him. He is no threat to anyone strong and brave. No weapons necessary. It's a cut and dry bounty hunter job. The payment, based on a job well done, is sexual plus whatever cash and leftover coke I got in my pocket. I promise if you are any good it won't take long. Anyone out there to be my knight in shining armor?

The following exchange was the e-mail discussion I had with one of about 25 respondents. Though many were entertaining (fuck, they kept me up this late at least), I think this one is supreme among all others.

Well it just so happens, I am the half-demon in a white man's body. I don't need a weapon when my foot's in his ass. Stricko ain't nothing but toilet scum living in my city. My reward will be when he squeals like a pig when he is sodomized my shoe. I don't like coke, I just like the way it smells. But I am stoned as shit. What I lack in education I make up for in pure unadulterated character. Let's go get this guy. Rather B Fishin.

Have you ever wanted the demon to descend into you, skid across your soul and make you feel like you thought you were always meant to feel, alive and thriving, kicking and mimicking the times of a child? Newborn, infantile and full of lather, your life still innocent and not corrupted, skinny in spirit, demonstrative in social presence only because nothing made more sense than the naked, earnest heart, exposed and exhausted, only wanting for love and the nurture of a supple person, a supple breast, the breast of josephine? That is me, slick, something that will enter you like a poison, but unknowing, unacknowledged, bereft of typical human warning, just a little tingle down your back. A reminder that the earth holds something, but not something greater than the deepest corner of where we come from. The obscure place in the back of your mind. Haunting you, stoned or not. You know it's there. You know he's there. Larry Stricko. Lucifer. Beezelbub. Many names. The same result. Bone stripped of feeling. Life stripped of living. Only chains and eternity. Steel hurt. Name it. Name me. Josephine, an angel of your only reckoning. Don't worry, it's coming soon.

I am the darkness that brings dread to darkness, the pain that brings agony to suffering, and the torment that cause anguish in hell. You cannott know the demon until you call me forth. Believe what you are taught, think what you have learned, but KNOW that I am he that is unamed, that which is unseen, the one that is beyond redemption, judgement, definition, or understanding. I am the apocolypse, Shiva, Kali, I am Armageddon. You have called, I have responded, you are now touched by my hand. What say you, seeker of vengence? The dance has begun. Rather B Fishin.

You have passed level 1. It now escalates. Whether the reward is worth it, that is something you will have to ask yourself. The truth is that men walk, upright and oblivious, unaware of the haunting that pleases itself on our decay. We can see through the shrill blade of light that is our carriage, our sinew. Can you truly let it go, unleash it to the simple kind. I do not speak idly. I do not speak of death. I speak of happiness, that which can only be wrought with the earthly pleasure of coming to physical orgasm on the skulls of the forgotten. A human life, pleading for its salvation, is an easy one to take. But to rejoice in its remains. To feel the souls that once embodied it. The Japanese call it the Kami, the shinto animism. That is the true transcendence. Our friend Larry Stricko is a gateway into reaching this next plane. The plane of the invisible, the truly powerful. The capability to act with impunity. It starts with a simple procedure. 500 S. Gramercy Place. #202, Los Angeles, CA 90020. There dwells a agent of sublime brightness. He is that which should be extinguished. He is that which our fuel of greed and pettiness feeds. His end is a start. Stricko. A time has come to us. Are you with me? If not, waste no more of my time.

Time is a chain I am free of.
You give me An address and an admonition, from a
Child, nothing is that easy.
Come ye first unto me, and be tested and proven
Your Time?
Child I AM TIME.
What say you. Rather B Fishin.

Dude, I think we got him.

OK. Well, hope you are ok... If you need some pain killlers let me know! Rather B Fishin.

By the way, all apologies for taking advantage of the sincere utility and genius of craigslist. Sweet dreams and, of course, shakes.
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