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The Internet Is A Playground Part 31

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Snow I had never seen snow before visiting the U.S., and while those around me complained about their vehicles sliding off the road and not being able to get out the front door, I secretly hoped the snowfall would reach several feet and trap me there for months. My first s...o...b..ll throw ever was a head shot, and taking into account the excellent degree of distance and trajectory a.n.a.lysis, I would have thought my girlfriend, Holly, would be impressed rather than driving off. Faced with the prospect of spending the night outdoors many miles from civilization, I built a snowman to ward off wolves while I started work on an igloo. After two hours of work resulting in a pile of snow with a hollowed out cave large enough only for my head, I had to hide my relief when Holly came back, proclaiming to her that I would have been fine due to having read the novel My Side of the Mountain My Side of the Mountain and that I was not crying-it was just a bug or dust or something in my eye. and that I was not crying-it was just a bug or dust or something in my eye.

Walmart The first time I went to Walmart, I showered, shaved, dressed nicely, and did my hair to the bemus.e.m.e.nt of those with me. The second time, I went unwashed, in my pajamas, at 3 a.m. to buy a gun. In Australia, we have a nationwide ban on anything even remotely gun-shaped. When I was about ten years old, there was an elderly man, living across the road, named Mr. Anderson, that I (innocently) drove insane through a sequence of events over twelve months, which included painting his windows black, believing he would wake up and think it was still nighttime; tying his lawnmower to the back of his car so he drove off with it; and putting several packets of raspberry Jell-O crystals in his fish pond. The day I dipped tennis b.a.l.l.s in paint and threw them at his house obviously broke him, and he came out screaming and waving a rifle before being arrested. I did not see Mr. Anderson after that, but I am sure everything turned out fine and that he looks back on those times with fond memories.

Guns Having purchased a heavy gauge shotgun and armor piercing rounds from Walmart for the equivalent price of a carton of cigarettes in Australia, I befriended a local farm boy named Chuck by making up Aboriginal words and telling lies about Australian fauna (it is now a fact in Virginia that koalas, known as Boogawigs in the native Aboriginal language, communicate with each other through song and weave themselves jackets from gum leaves during winter). Chuck drove us in his red pickup to George Was.h.i.+ngton Forest to drink beer and kill something. Four drink bottles and a cinder block lost their lives that afternoon before a deer walked into the clearing and was shot in the leg. As the humane thing to do is never leave an animal wounded, and having run out of ammunition, we clubbed it to death with the b.u.t.t of our rifles, which took about an hour, then tied it to the hood of the pickup truck and drove home listening to John Denver, while yelling, "Whooo!" at pedestrians. Chuck wanted to ritualize my first kill by dipping his finger in the blood and wiping it on my face, but as he had done a poo in the forest, without access to hand-was.h.i.+ng facilities, I told him that as a vegetarian this would not be appropriate.

Philadelphia Made the long journey from Harrisonburg to Philadelphia for the sole purpose of visiting the famous Love Park. My girlfriend and I fought just hours before due to me stating that I would rather go see the s.p.a.ce Shuttle than visit her family, but apparently there is no p.i.s.sed Off at David Park. We then drove home during a blizzard using a TomTom GPS system stuck on bicycle mode.

The s.p.a.ce Shuttle Prior to this trip, the only reason I had ever considered visiting the U.S. was because it has the s.p.a.ce Shuttle. Like a priest carrying home his first computer after hearing about child p.o.r.nography on the Internet, I was practically foaming at the mouth in antic.i.p.ation during the drive to the Smithsonian National Air & s.p.a.ce Museum. I have stood in front of masterpieces in art museums that did not raise an inkling of the emotion I felt upon seeing the s.p.a.ce shuttle. It was at that moment I realized that the high horse on which I had laughed at Trekkies had sidled away in shame. On the way out, after spending the rest of our trip allowance at the museum shop buying plastic products made in China, I pulled my pants high up around my waist, gave my lunch money to a bigger boy, and considered going over to Windows.



Belly messages pretending to be a girl on the Internet

Danni ... I will but first you have to write "I have a big Mr. Steve for D.T." on your stomach and e-mail a photo to me to prove you are genuine.

Hawk410 ok. Whats a Mr. Steve? A c.o.c.k?

Danni Sigh ... yes Jamie.

Hawk410 Do you want my c.o.c.k in the picture?

Danni Just your stomach is fine.

Danni ... I would love to bounce up and down on you like a five year old on a jumping castle at a birthday party.

Scott_Mintred Haha. id f.u.c.kn love that to. so are we gonna meet now?

Danni Definitely but first write "I want you to bounce on me D.T." on your stomach, take a photo, then e-mail it to me to prove you are genuine.

Scott_Mintred Cool.

Danni ... as I am very dirty and need somebody to lick my body all over.

Surfkilla cool! I like dirty girls.

Danni No, I mean literally dirty, the plumbing is broken and I have not showered in days. I will give you my phone number but first you have to write "I want to lick D.T.'s body all over" on your stomach, take a photo, then e-mail it to me to prove you are genuine.

Surfkilla ok.

Danni ... we are actually only about five minutes drive from each other. Or in your case, a ten minute bus ride. You can call me but before I give you my number you have to write "I want to flashdance for you D.T." on your stomach, take a photo, then e-mail it to me to prove you are genuine.

Randbgeoff What the f.u.c.k does that mean?

Danni Um ... flashdance means to e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e on someones chest I think.

Randbgeoff f.u.c.k ok. Sorry, I havent heard that one before. Hang on.

Danni ... yes, I have been very naughty. Will you spank me and tell me that I am a bad girl for spending my money on that Duran Duran record instead of buying you a fathers day present?

Southsidetom Sure.

Danni Ok but first write "I am your daddy D.T." on your stomach, take a photo, then e-mail it to me to prove you are genuine. Southsidetom Southsidetom No problem babe.

Danni ... yes but first you have to write "There's a D.T. party in my pants" on your stomach, take a photo, then e-mail it to me to prove you are genuine.

Romanticguy What do you want me to write it with?

Danni I dont care what you write it with, doesn't your wife have lipstick or something?

Romanticguy All right.

Mr. Carganovsky extreme stuntman to the max h.e.l.lo, my name is Mr. Carganovsky, and I'm Australia's most extreme stuntman to the awesomest max. If you have a party, wedding, or BBQ that you need a show for, contact me and I will do you a good price. I will soon be famous and the price will go up, so be quick.

I have been a professional stuntman for nearly four weeks, and in that time I have looked death in the face many times. My career began when someone clipped the side mirror of my Datsun 180B while I was parked at Kmart. I was inside purchasing credit for my phone at the time and did not notice the cracked mirror until I was driving home. A police car, with sirens blaring and lights flas.h.i.+ng, came up behind me before overtaking, and due to refraction caused by the shattered mirror, I thought there were about forty police vehicles behind me and almost had an aneurysm. I have a few outstanding parking fines. I swerved, almost hitting a dog, before bringing the vehicle under control. The dog was on the other side of the road and behind a fence, but if it hadn't been, the outcome could have been very different. The adrenaline rush was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and the rest of the way home I drove sixty-three even though it was a sixty zone, as my need for speed had been fueled.

My most recent stunts include running on the concrete at my local swimming pool, putting aluminum foil in the microwave, and talking to strangers. This morning, while standing approximately three meters from a brick wall, I threw a golf ball at it as hard as I could. Due to the combination of physics and an internal rubber structure, it returned at almost the speed it left and struck me just above my ear on the right side of my head. I think I may have a concussion and cannot see in color. As such, I did not go to work today and instead spent the afternoon reorganizing my wardrobe, as I have way too many black and gray s.h.i.+rts.

To prepare for each stunt, I enter a deep meditative state through circular breathing exercises and twelve hours in my flotation tank listening to whale calls. As I do not own a tape of whale sounds, I make the noises myself. I am currently preparing for my latest stunt, in which I intend to play with pointy sticks, then eat and go swimming without waiting thirty minutes. Safety is paramount in the stunt business, so yesterday I bought a first aid kit for the glove compartment. The vehicle predates manufacturer requirements for air bags, but I have glued several rubber stress b.a.l.l.s to my steering wheel and replaced the interior lining with bubble wrap. The car's exterior, engine, transmission, and tires are shot, but apart from that the vehicle is in excellent condition, so it is worth spending money on. Last week I had sign writers paint "Mr. Carganovsky, Exteme Stuntman to the Awesomest Max" on the side, and this has attracted a lot of attention.

Last night, I wrote and recorded my own theme song: "Mr. Carganovsky to the Extreme" By Mr. Carganovsky, music by Proclaimers By Mr. Carganovsky, music by ProclaimersIt's Mr. Carganovsky, Being extreme to the awesomest max, Did you see what he just he did?

No? Pity, because it was amazing.

Don't push him, because he is close to the edge, Woh!

I am currently forced to bob my head and tap the steering wheel at traffic lights to disguise the fact I don't have a ca.s.sette player, so that people do not point and say, "Look, there's Mr. Carganovsky, sitting in his car in silence. He must be poor." Also, if I am touching metal when I turn the ignition key, I receive a short but painful shock, which often causes me to black out for an hour or two. This accounts for my being late to work at least three times a week, and I am on my last warning, but I don't care if I get sacked, as I will be famous soon.

With the money I make from being a famous stuntman, I am hoping to one day open a stunt school offering courses in flicking the light switch on and off repeatedly and sitting too close to the television.

Mr. Carganovsky's lawyer writes a letter From: David Thorne David Thorne Date: Friday 26 June 2009 11:02 a.m. Friday 26 June 2009 11:02 a.m.

To: Craig Ellison Craig Ellison Subject: Skye Cargan Skye Cargan

Dear Mr. Ellison,

Thank you for your letter. Does the forty-eight hours include sleeping time? I like to sleep in till around midday, often longer if it is cold and rainy outside. Today when I got up it was bitterly cold, so I sat on the couch watching Blakes-7 Blakes-7 DVDs wrapped in my comforter and, therefore, technically still in bed. If I bought two dunas, lay down on them with my arms and legs splayed out, drew the outline of my body, then cut out and st.i.tched the dunas together to form a suit, I could wear this to the shops and even to work on cold days. People would probably look at me and say, "I wish I had one of those duna suits," and I would say, "Yes, it is very warm and comfortable and just like being in bed; therefore, I am exempt from any deadlines that may be placed on me." DVDs wrapped in my comforter and, therefore, technically still in bed. If I bought two dunas, lay down on them with my arms and legs splayed out, drew the outline of my body, then cut out and st.i.tched the dunas together to form a suit, I could wear this to the shops and even to work on cold days. People would probably look at me and say, "I wish I had one of those duna suits," and I would say, "Yes, it is very warm and comfortable and just like being in bed; therefore, I am exempt from any deadlines that may be placed on me."

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The Internet Is A Playground Part 31 summary

You're reading The Internet Is A Playground. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): David Thorne. Already has 534 views.

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