Hello From Hell!
Now, you clicked there, didn't you? Tsk. And you knew something bad would happen.
Go back to The Cow and await further instructions!
Go back to The Cow and await further instructions!
posted by anaglyph at 10/08/2005 01:37:00 AM
36 Comments:
Damn. I was hoping for the pron!
Anne Arkham you are so busted. Well stay tuned, I have plans for this site...
I've no doubt. Don't forget your other one.
Just a seckon! I aint even admittin t have clickd here.
I'm afraid your being here is the only documentary proof we need Mr Polanski. Please take a seat and someone will be with you presently. Feel free to help yourself to the spicy tortilla chips and jalapeno dip.
Matt Groening called for you again. He wanted me to ask you if you wanted him to meet you here.
All of you get to be part of a special club... it's a club for wickedly curious people... stay tuned.
Is it too late for people to join said club?
I haven't forgotten. Are you all comfortable? Is the spa hot enough? There's things cooking....
Is it impropr fer a fly caut in a web t admire th spidrs art an craft?
DANG! Were ALL caut!
Hell's blog looks more welcoming than I'd have thought it would be.
Hey, Revrend ... ya no ya DO have anothr blog!
And even...
Another blog...
For the Early Adopters.
I was dismayd t see that a email adress is requird t leave coments on yer new blog, Revrend. I hopes ya can disabl that.
Joey dont do email adress.
Still, yer new blog is now linkd at th JPS.
Joey: Yes, there are inevitable teething issues. You may now post without fear of your Super Identity becoming known.
Still, I am a little disappointed in your lack of deviousness; it doesn't say you need to give your own email adress, or even a real one...
I may have to revoke your 'Hello From Hell' status.
Dangd moral streak, I no. An Im bettr at harpin than I am at pitchforkin, too.
Sined,
-- Joey ... or whoevr I amski.
You're not moving this one, too?
There's a Grand Plan.
Anne beat me to my question. Rats.
Yes, I clicked, and I will probably click again. It may become a compulsive habit. It's surprisingly peaceful, this Hell. I like it.
Yes, Hello From Hell is languising somewhat, I must admit. I'll look into that.
oo, oo, so excited...what's in hell!
um, hello?
Ironically, my word verification is "colder".
Just popping in to see if Hell is still around.
Still maintaining Hell. But time, y'know...
Spidr spin. Spidr sin.
Look at all th trouble Im in!
Contemplate. Ruminate.
Say a prayr bfore Im ate.
Light the fires!
Pop the corks!
And grab a hold
Of your pitchforks!
Dance around
The wild flames!
And celebrate
Our Hellish games!
Naturals & flats & sharps,
Are playd above on goldn harps.
Down below, we rattle bones,
And squeak & squawk on red trombones.
High above, th Lord of Hosts,
Th Fathr, Son, & Holy Ghost;
And I, cast downward in th end,
Mus live ferevr wif my friends.
Once you're in, there's no way out
Even though you scream and shout!
Perhaps it seems you can just leave
But we go with you where you weave
Your drunken way into the night
Where ordinary mortals might
Mistake their lives for 'living'. Fools!
They're merely slaves to lesser rules...
Close your eyes, turn out that light
And everything will be alright.
Slowly breathe out your last breath
Embrace the icy hand of death.
I'll take you down and you will see
The pits of Hell awaiting thee
And though to this life you may cling
You can't escape the fate I bring.
As per th direcktions
On fire-inspecktions,
I'm here to find code-violations.
And since this is Hell,
I might just as well
Attempt some bribe-solicitations.
You're suff'rin' in torment, for lives filled with sin;
But, other than that, HOW THE HECK Y'ALL BEEN?
An oozing red liquid adorning the walls
Erodes like an acid the myriad skulls
Of petrified skeletons frozen mid-writhe,
Remembering bodies all limber and lithe
While, cursing and hissing through teeth firmly gritted,
They suffer for transgressions blithely committed.
Within a deep hole, a contorted face grins
At thoughts of the suffering and of the sins,
Delighting as well in the stench and the gore,
The laughter increasing, orgasming more.
In ev’ry dark cranny, a billion black eyes
Of things shaped like spiders but ten times the size
Reflect the red embers, recording the scene
As jaws of some indistinct thing serpentine
Unhinge and extend and elongate and strain,
Revealing a maw thick with venom and vein,
Inevitably to devour the whole
Communal, congealed, iniquitous soul,
Enhancing unbearable agony when
It vomits the whole tangled mass up again.
In noxious gas thus from the toil superheated
The sequence is endlessly to be repeated.
In other words, ev’ryone, ev’rything’s well
Here, just east of Eden — dead-center in Hell.
I’m standing in Hell, realizing
There’s no one here I’m recognizing.
That’s fine with me, but
I’ll tell you all what:
That Malach’s not here is surprising.
“It’s the funniest luck,
Which sin gets you stuck
In Hell, in the cosmic casino.
With that,” pronounced Satan,
“We’re inauguratin’
Heaven’s Gate’s Michael Cimino.”
I’m here on assignment, conducting a study.
Where in fucking Hell IS ev’rybody?
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