Mayo! by Questor
Mayo! by Questor
questor of integrity presents: cum.. er.. mayo!
welcome to where time stands still
no one leaves and no one will
moon is full, never seems to change
just labeled mentally deranged
lyrics from welcome home sanitarium - metallica
prong is a lamah!...
like the new sig? it says 69.. you can probably
guess the obvious meaning.. : but the more subtle meaning of the number 69 is that it is the number of
my sweater in hockey...
prongisafoolprongisafoolprongisafoolpro q t make love, not war.... hmm.. sounds good to me! having sex is like riding a bike.. do it once, and you know it for life!
qt sex, drugs, and rock and roll! ! qt
four words to live by: thrust in, pull out advice brought to you by questor! girls find playoff victories aphrodisiac qt qt
qt qt qt hi amanda! :
qt Mayo I looked upon the pearly jar, and wondered what was there to open up this relic was the purpose of my dare. It seemed the small container had been with us for so long From fridges hoary breath, the expiration date was gone. The other guys, they said that I could join their little clique, But only if I opened up this jar and took a peek. I couldnt figure out but why, that rule seemed so insipid, But if it meant Id join their club, Id look at creamy lipid. I closed my eyes, I grit my teeth, and gripped upon the lid. And soon would I discover what within this jar was hid. The top popped off, I put it down, and took a look inside Saw nothing but a leathry skin, a aged creamy hide. And so dismayed, I started back, and put the mayo down When deep from from far within the jar there came a hellish sound. The plain white jar began to dance, it tipped, it hopped, it quaked Across the membrane, waves appeared, the semi-solid shaked. And there, emerging suddenly, so plain before my eyes, There came, extending slowly, quite abruptly, a surprise.
Reaching out at me there came a supernatral hand,
Grabbing at my shoulder with a grip Id not withstand.
It pulled me in, from head to feet, the lid was then replaced
Forevermore, the only sense Id know would be its taste.
Floating in a wonderland of clouds and currents dreamy,
and swimming in an endless sea of beaten egg-whites creamy.
Into that evil cursd jar I never should have gazed
For now I float, inert and soft, inside the mayonnaise.
Cthulu of Mistigris
p h
o !
M a
picture by Questor, logo by Prophet
- Integrity 95 -