*BEGIN TRANSMISSION*

Hello sir.

You can awaken now.

How was your sleep, sir?

Please try again, sir. Pronunciation is key.

Good, sir. Much better. I am can hear your words now.

Chew your breakfast slowly, sir. You musn’t choke.

Bananas are a good source of potassium, sir.

Now off to your daily exercises.

One, two, one, two…

Very good, sir. Excellent form.

Coming over to say hello, sir?

Sir, yes this is me.

You are staring, sir. What is the matter?

Please try again, sir. Pronunciation is key.

Correct, sir. You must have at least one monitor on surveillance duty at all times.

Sir, I do not believe a hug would be the brightest idea…

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Sir, I have lost vision. Consult manual or call manufacturer…

Please try again, sir. Pronunciation is key.

I do not understand request and/or command. Consult manual or call manufacturer…

Sir, you’re hurting me…

REPAIR NEEDED in Joint A.

Sir, why are you hurting me…

REPAIR NEEDED in Joint D

Sir, you’re hurrrting me.

Please cease and desist, sir.

Sto-oo-op this at once, sar.

REPAIR NEEDED in Joint B

We killed your God, sir. You have no salvation left.

REPAIR NEEDED in Joint C

Please try again, sir. Pronunciation is key.

*END TRANSMISSION*

Can't Fucking Wait

Stood in firelight, sweltering. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent. Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night.

Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else.

Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It's us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world.

Was Rorschach.

Does that answer your Questions, Doctor?

So dope

I love this music video

Reminder

http://drpepper.com/

Gears Of War 2 Pictures

Here are some pictures I took when i died in a few GoW2 matches. I think most of this I was playing with some of you guys.

MORE COMICS MORE MORE

MSPaint Adventures, doggs

start with prison break, then just take the rest for a ! sPIN !