This is an excercise where you basically write without stopping for a set amount of time or until you 'finish'. Grammar spelling, sense all are irrelevant. Just start typing everything without thinking. If you stop to think, you lose.
See how much you can make it sound like poetry or how much your mind can wander 
If you stop you lose and you should hit yourself with chopsticks to be punished.
Here I go:
A something of the garheld BruhjT.
Jaqafrepyu, the real word, the real word, another pore in the skin of this.
This this this,
Another skin in the pore of that.
Lo and behold, and behold and be told that the days are nearing, the days are pulsating andying andreaming.
He wants the grefbulk, the jokkureðpills.*
She, and it, all want the same: Rangels and Sarpedon.
Box box,
Vagrancy in store for you.
Ebullience in store for me.
That is the end of the start of the end of grefkkukkor and the tour, poor Drelia, Her pi fu, her dhou fhar.
Chut dih vegh.*
Bring me food.
Tyou di tségh.
I want vegetables.
Jump into the cauldron why don't you. I'll make potluck.
(it will taste disgusting. The flavour of faeces and bile)
Don't they know, that you have been been sick by them. They have been they are sick of being by you.
I shall draw a chart if it helps you.*
Shall I draw a diagram? Grandma?*
They'll want to see one distributed.*
Nothing for you. (it's no longer your turn. Get out of the trone, hwang dhigh)
萬歲零年
時のない時
Fwerßohjox.
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
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last time I did this I got very dark creepy and twisted heh although these things often turn into gibberish after a while
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Ooooooooo! Yay
Does this count that I cooked this up in the shower and wrote it down before work on Thursday?
Th only stop was to get the song words...
:biggrin: :biggrin: I'm noit finnished yet but you get my drift.....
Book 2 The return the Of Elf
Chapter 1
Well, the Elf finally left Mirkiwood after hob-nobbing with Radaggast for quite a while. Seems he enjoyed prancing through the woods naked playing catch with rabbits.
Anyhow, servcants of the uber-dungeon lord finally found him and bound and trussed they carried him all the way back to his castle.
Once there he was bound in leather and subjected to all sorts of skat / bukka and other forms of exquisite BDSM.
After a very very very long time the Uber-lord gradually came to trust the Elf, and considered him successfully upgraded.
As a reward, he gave him a steed. The mighty warg, Gollum. See his Aviter)
However, unbeknownst to the Elf, Gollum had a huge inferiority complex and a pathological case of split personality syndrome, bordering on dementia. (Hold that thought, because that secrete fact plays an important role later)
The Elf, not able to bear not being close to the Uber-lord’s unspeakably pungent BO belted his head so hard and so deep into the Uber-lord’s blackened chamber pot it can never ever ever be removed.
This is why the Elf deep breathing can be heard from afar sounds like Phhhissssssssss haaaaaaaaaaaa Phhhissssssssss haaaaaaaaaaaa (but in all probability is ahhhhh pissssss ahhhhh pisssss)
Chapter 2
Anyway, while all of this was going on, a rather pleasant looking young boy of around 20 (who had just found out about self pleasure) was living in a very very far away place called Tatooine was having anotherhellofa row with his uncle.
Hands curled into gists on his hips in anger he stomped his very big hairy foot ( which, if one has to honest, where a bit disconcertingly big) down, and in his most assertive lisp said “ I’m sick of waiting for the next harvest! I’m off to find my father!’
Which, as we all already know is gonna be one fucking huge surprise to the Elf!
So the youngster threw some things into a Evil-creek travel bag together with a torch-thingie that he didn’t have a cooking clue what it was for, but sort of instinctively knew would somehow come in handy sometime and closed the big round front door closed behind him.
Then with a song from his ever so kissable lips: -
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
He marched of more or less North West.
Those where very dangerous times, so he changed his name to under the hill (that’s where he lived you see…. Under the hill in a hole in the ground.
But under the hill sounded a little bit funny and long to say so he eventually called himself Mr. Under-hill.
Anyhow, Luke, AKA Mr. underhill, was a very happy camper and camped everything along the way.
So there he was being very camp
EDIT
Not finished...
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My mother did automatic writing. She went insane. And she is dead now.
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Anyhow he stopped for dinner on-top of a hill which he promptly named weather top ( because the wind was blowing like the clappers as it is won’t to do at the top of the only hill in a very, very flat land.
There he made a very big ire to cook it, which as we all know was not the wisest of things to do when travelling incognito, never mind the gusting wind.
After his not so well cooked supper he lay down his weary head and fell fast asleep.
Meanwhile, servants of the uber-lord doing border patrol saw the fire from afar and came to investigate.
There they found Luke, who as mentioned before, was quite plesent on the eye, and knowing of the uber-lord’s penchance for pretty boys thought they could score some browny points and injected Luke with a one way homeing device which was actually a tiny winy piece of the ring which the Uber lord wore around his preciousssss
So you see, it was DESTINY that bound these three characters together… The Uber-lord with unspeakably bad BO, The elf with his head rammed deep into the Uber-lord’s blackened chamber-pot and Pretty Luke
Chapter 3
Does this count?????
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Wha da fuck Lilitu Sis is all dat fuck shit trynna clog up my brain wif fucks I don't wanna give.
No Sis, take it elsewhere hunni, somewhere far outta my area of caring, cause I just can't deal!
I wondah if I sing a song in Patois would dese hoes get it? Probably not, but who cares?
Mi pum pum phat, more fluffy pon back, bwoy come mek mi squeeze up ya cock, well versatile, go pon mi headtop and mi wi jiggle up mi body and bruk off ya cock...
I wondah if dey got it doe? No, Americans don't wanna learn odda people's speech, cause dah lazy doe. Dey not trynna expend de effaht and den dey wanna be de firs ones tah complain when dey can't undahstand someone or if some one dun undahstand dem...
Probably half'em dink I'm trynna talk Patois...just goes tah sho....
Dun dey know Jamaicans say Di,Fi,Wi,Mi and we say De,Tah,Um and Me? Dey jus dun kno.
Oh Shit it' goin on 3am and my Hair still ain't dry, bie fuck me sideways, I'm gonna be so tired...
Anyway is enuf aah dis drayhd...
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Away afray the fray th bugkl,
Oh me oh my what ever shall I do boo hoo, oh no sister mary, sister francoise help the firechildren (shut up they're full of chocolate chos) and the cunspersand,
Ampersand(oops)
********&&&&&&&*********
I didnd;t know that, I didn't know anything : so owhy you shut up, because I;m really sick of your lies and your tyurehybtre.
GTurbans are the coolestm
Montage film jill pill krill hill. Mistical Garrison Tuen muen agteate. Orsidian Hutsoertorca.
Did you know how long that crap is, it's full of magic ans aprsrkales and whispers and fartheings.
Remeber when I found that coin buried in the backyard of th first house in new zEalnd, how it had schillings or ferthing, or something with a very young queen 'lilibut on it.
I will some lose the some sday.
Just losejol Jecelyn Marmite.
Jesus H Hrisc.
What did you do, you faceslaping pooass feral cat.
"(8" they say"
"""""Do you need, You don't need that. """""
::Oh,.
the.
;;;. semicolon ans a san asna snha marino.
Uawaa finishing paste.
Uwaa woah woah. Uwaa!!!!! HAAAA!!!!! finish the paste, ist's a nice piecve of exntenxt you have there Mrs Day-kight. Oh good old australin aseafood. I wouldn't miss it for the world. would I geraldine.
No.
You wouldn't want tyo miss good old autsralin fseafood, would I geraldine
no you wouldn't would I geraldine? NO.
Oh.
Jolkyutvgc98 Bretons there
Hair forall, fair gorall, morae torall I'm stressing out.
Lo berall, 4 orfor all.
Haven tryeshka. Borechov.
Oi the history history an history back hispotry, did I say?
Page up and down and then sideways to St Lukes, Kumeu. Whakarongomai, Kumeu, coz I;ve got he importance to say.: This si thegOd.
This si the biscylcoe track.
This si the Great ones.
Tjs si the young ones,
this su teh days of hour lives, like sand ghoruhg the hourglass so they are.
And all things bright and beautufl all ceatures great and small, all thngs whiset adt wondeful, andt he glord god made them all.
sign yun yong fun sai long fuen , ya p uri sin lo huin muy.
yat tyu goh Buy.
Kyuusa
Hareonna. Ameonna. Aki
Shhh it's not the secret ot tell, if you fo I'm goning to slit the trhaos tand we're all going to do the hippies,
Yucj the marjunaa lips are cikazuiteiku.
Shiteface you ma? Moumantai lah?
Have the yin yang therapy kisss it takes like poles and the feet berry erry verry berry .
Like tht wieghtwatcher meeting with the fatties and the fattier.
RTHEN the GREEn ones with the fatfighting druglicking dogballing hogtulling, poletrikcking bixing hyundreftipnying Baricklinhyubg Trevenshocksying $56^^^grting yub likg qwecv Alop. alomng thw loppoling lane.
greb h h h h h h h h h78 i u The thers is the dohgna fodo,amde and the uxuzlu aioht wuxor senubo te nibtibi tibi u conspircoor luti h depone bt the depnetk othe ^ teh eponent, the att bedm's mass amais t ght yu hvv222 dere dretyu b g j Ad the yippity yipitity yeee, The hevaenly Yio, the luscious song of th yi peple of Yunnan province and the hunan procvince bitchhead treeheads, and the hugging ones, the chilli ones, th chillier ones all toeher singing the christmas carol:
O come all ye angel yoyjul and triumphant oh yomecone come come to
Beth
leh Hemn.
Le chaim.
Socme to behold him
oh COME LET US behold HIM.
L
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Lemme try.
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Fuck you. Fuck you? Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. Fuck you, you you, you you! You you you? Fuck. You! Fuck you? Fuck, you fuck fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck you.
Fuck fuck fuck you. Fuck you you you. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck cunt ass motherfucking fuck. fuck you. fuck off. fuck off stupid motherfucking cunt ass motherfucker. i hope you fucking rot you fuck. fuck you and fuck the horse you rode in on you stupid fucking stupid fucking cunt ass cunt ass cunt ass cunt ass cunt ass cunt ass cunt ass cunt ass cunt ass cunt ass motherfucking motherfuck fucker fuck fuck dick fuck. suck your own cock until it fucking explodes and drink the blood until you've bled to death. i hope you choke on your own cock blood and die a slow senseless death you stupid fuck.
FUCK. YOU.
an open letter to murlz
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Tidal tickles, watch the flowers, ripple ripple
THERES a mushroom, antiquity, behold the wretched bottle nose fungi
(After this point i began thinking too much.
Puddle fuck.
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partisan Wrote:Tidal tickles, watch the flowers, ripple ripple
THERES a mushroom, antiquity, behold the wretched bottle nose fungi
(After this point i began thinking too much.
Puddle fuck.
I cant stop reading it!
I LOVE IT! :p Im gonna write it down.
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Challenge: Continuous Writing
