08-04-2016, 07:44 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-04-2016, 07:46 PM by satire.)
If you're a blacksmith, probably the proudest day of your life is when you get your first anvil. How innocent you are, little blacksmith.
When God said ‘be fruitful and multiply,’ He probably wasn’t talking about Satire. Like, definitely wasn’t. Because some horses are meant to be genetic dead ends. Nature is supposed to intervene, to get that natural selection on and kill them dead before they get a chance to pass on those defective genes. Barring that, his personality was pretty much like 3 months worth of birth control. Also, the fact his conformation is so bad he pretty much looks sewn together, like a Frankenstein.
(I know it should be Frankenstein’s monster. Maybe the real monster is you, correcting things in this obviously satirical [HAH] post.)
And yeah, there’d been one kid, back with his bae Lauren (AN: pretty sure that was her name, I’m not looking it up because I am in a Flow and this is all the definition of stream of consciousness writing anyway). But that was an outlier.
Ready for a crazy ass metaphor?
Think of infinite monkeys on infinite typewriters given infinite time. Eventually they’re going to produce the entire works of Shakespeare, or my Hamilton fanfiction (there’s very little difference). Well, Satty isn’t infinite but he has been around for like a hundred years around a bunch of ladies, so eventually a lady is going to bang him, AKA produce a work of Shakespere.
Did that make sense? No? It did in my head. What we’re trying to say is that yeah, maybe it happened ONCE, but won’t happen again.
WELL, past author, joke’s on you. Because it totally effing did. MORE THAN ONCE. Maybe fermented apples were rampant, maybe magic screwed everybody up (hey, wasn’t that a Shakespeare plot? Also, why am I suddenly obsessed with Shakespeare today?), we just don’t know. But he know SATTY GOT LAID, Y’ALL.
And yeah, this lady, a gorgeous pumpkin spice color that he was so into he might as well be a white girl, had left kind of suddenly after rather than hang around and plan the glorious wedding they were obviously going to have.
But she was back! And round, like something orange and round. I can’t think of anything appropriate.
He smiled like a jack-o-lantern (I’m making a clever pumpkin allusion please acknowledge how hilarious I am) and bounded forward. Well, bounded in spirit, in reality it was sort of a lurch. Like, say, a Frankenstein.
“Hey bae,” he said, tossing his head in that casual ‘what’s up’ jerk that guys do, “what’s up?”
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no i have not been drinking
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