Porocrom’s Crappaper

Today I am going to reveal a big secret about the Smurf village. It is something your parents didn’t want you to know when you were little, but that you always suspected.
You might have asked yourselves, “Hey, who do Smurfs have sex with?”. The truth is that we are never privy to their most intimate moments, and they don’t make any insinuations either. Well, today I’m here to tell you the entire truth about the Smurf villagers.
Before the arrival of Smurfette, all the Smurfs had sex with each other (yes, even Papa Smurf, but not Vanity Smurf, that dude only jerks off), and sometimes there were mass gay orgies in which the entire village would partake. The origin of Smurfette is a bit hazy, but that’s only because they don’t want you to know the truth. The official Smurfsite deliberately confuses us with this statement: “The wicked Gargamel originally created Smurfette to stir up trouble in the village. But Papa Smurf’s magic turned into the charming little Smurf that everyone adores.”
That is only a half-truth. Gargamel DID create Smurfette, but to have her as his sex slave, because, let’s face it, how cool is it to have a tiny chick do anything you want? After he created her, Papa Smurf stole her from him and took her back the Smurf village because he was tired of always taking it up the bum. Smurfette immediately agreed to go to the village because she’s just one huge ho, and she’s been enjoying little blue cock ever since.


This is Smurfette being a ho.
That is the truth to the mystery of Smurfette, and now we will move on to another mystery. That is, where did Baby Smurf come from? The website, again to throw us off, mentions that “On a blue, moonlit night, Baby Smurf was brought to the village by a stork.”


Bastard Baby Smurf.
The truth there is that one day, as the Smurfs were having their weekly orgies, Hefty’s rubber broke and Smurfette wasn’t on the pill, but she was so embarrased about that that she stayed in her Smurfhouse for the entire time she was pregnant (that’s 4 days), and then made up this bullshit story about a stork. Of course, the other Smurfs (even Hefty) believed it, because as you already very well know, Smurfs never talk about sex, they just do it.
This is the entire truth, and it leaves us with a ho and a bastard.

Yesterday I found out I had a dialer on my PC. Dialers are these little spyware shit programs that install on your pc without you even knowing. Then, if you live in a country retarded enough to still use dialup, it dials a number located on a planet outside our solar system and starts downloading porn while charging you obscene amounts of money.
You can imagine my surprise when I picked up the phone and heard the characteristic CHCHCHCHCHCHCHZZZZZZDOINGDOING of the modem. I immediately proceeded to rip the phone plug off the wall only to realise that the modem was connected to the other plug, so I ripped that off too. I then ran Spybot which hopefully removed the fucking thing once and for all, but not before it had charged me god-knows-how much, and I didn’t even get to see any porn.
I guess the only thing left to do now is wait for the phone bill. I have decided to read the phone bill in reverse, i.e. starting from the last digit and reading backwards, so as to not be shocked with the actual amount I have to pay. I don’t think I will get away with just passing out though. I expect a stroke and/or heart attack, since the price is over $2/min. Oh, if you want to help a poor soul, paypal me some money to poromenos@poromenos.org to help my cause and I will love you for ever and ever and ever. Also I will do anything you want as long as it involves sex with beautiful women.

If you don’t play on Realms of Despair, stop reading.
If you do play on Realms of Despair, stop playing.
The next time I hear someone telling me that I need a thief to buy pots cheap because they will get 22 charisma I will chop their fucking head off with a fucking spoon. This will be me:

I will only say this once: ANYTHING OVER 22 FOR CHARISMA DOES NOT COUNT ON PRICES. So yes, someone with 20 and someone with 22 charisma will by the item for THE EXACT FUCKING PRICE.
Thanks for the hint though.

Okay so last night I made out with a girl who isn’t my girlfriend.

But it’s okay, because I was really drunk, right? WRONG!

Alcohol may be the almighty IQ-lowerer, vendor of beer goggles, tipper of tectonic plates when you think you can walk a straight line, and various other things, but something that it CANNOT do is turn off your ability to make decisions. In order to drink enough that your brain is impaired, you would be incapable of speech, let alone dirty ass-sex. I still hold that the ability to choose right from wrong is an inalienable human trait, and no matter what your moral standpoint, you know when you’re doing something wrong. Alcohol doesn’t change that, it just makes the stuff that is wrong more tempting, like wearing a lampshade, or grabbing that girl’s ass, or driving your station wagon into a bus full of orphan nuns.

Bottom line: “I was really drunk at the time” is the tired last-resort of a pathetic moron who couldn’t keep his shit together long enough to form the concept “no” in his brain. It’s the battle-cry of a person whose moral convictions are so shoddy that he would betray any trust at the drop of a bottle.

So here’s the question: uncle Crommie, what the fuck is wrong with you that you risked losing the trust of a KILLER babe for a few seconds of mushy passion on the patio of a bar WHERE ALL YOUR FRIENDS COULD SEE YOU, YOU STUPID FUCKER!?

The answer, I was really drunk at the time.

OK. Seriously, what is wrong with the universe? Do you know that law that says that basically nothing will ever go well for you? It’s true. Whenever I buy something shiny, like, say, a new screen, and I go into a chatroom to brag about it, this is what happens:
Me: Hey guys, I got a new Sony 17” monitor!
PersonA: Big deal, I have the new LG 45” super-slim TFT screen!
So then I just shake my fist at them, yell and leave. The next day I write a nice program and I again go to brag about it, and it’s like this:
I: Hey guys, I wrote a cool program.
PersonB: Cool, what does it do?
I: It’s a student database in C++.
PersonC: Oh big deal, I wrote mine in assembly and it has windows and it can even make coffee.
I then wish plagues upon everyone’s house and leave again, chagrined. In the next few days I develop a slight inferiority complex and try to do something to pass my time, like copy a DVD. I enter the chatroom again and seek help from the versed professionals dwelling there, but to my dismay, Murphy’s law is in effect:
I: Hi guys, I just got a DVD, can anyone tell me how to copy my files?
PersonC: A DVD? What’s that?
I: The thing you watch movies on.
PersonC: Oh, you can write files on it?
I: Uh, yeah.
PersonC: Wow, how do you do that?
I: …
I pose this question to you: How can it be that whenever I want to show off there’s always someone that does it better than me, yet whenever I need help, everyone’s IQ seems to drop 100 units? I could ask the simplest question and people stop for a moment and stare at me with a kind of frightened look, much like cows looking at the meat grinder, before continuing to graze.
I am sure the universe has conspired against me. I am sure that all these molecules and crap have united to stop me from getting any joy in this life. I am sure that right now they are looking at me and laughing their little round asses off, but I will have my revenge. I will develop new methods of nuclear fission and convert all the buggers to energy. Then I will be rich and I won’t need anyone to answer my questions, I will have enough money to buy things the way I want them. Shut up.