E-Mail Me!
Subscribe
The Story Begins
…at Søren Kierkegaard’s grave.
Those are my iPod earpuds laying there on his final resting place.
I wanted to give him the chance to hear some good modern music. He was listening to Silversun Pickups when I took the snap. Growing Old is Getting Old. Somehow that seemed appropriate…
The Sex Life of Dead Spirits
When I got to his grave, there were two touristy-looking young women staring down at his old dead existentialist bawawa…
I took a little stroll around the old part of Assistens Kirkegård, waiting for some time along with him.
I wonder if Søren’s spirit haunts this place.
Does he, in the night, wander around?
Is he… perhaps… looking for a drink?
Does he ever get horny?
These are important questions.
As I’m pondering this, I come across the grave of one Miss Ellen Margrethe Seknner.
She died back in 1871. Was 22 years old.
Does the statue look like she does?
I mean… it’s angelic and graceful and all that… but still…
She’s sorta hot. In an angelic-dead-marble sort of way.
Betcha Søren’s spirit is fucking her.
Every night he probably strolls over to her, looks down at her sweet angelic face, and…
What’s it gonna be, baby? Either we’ll make love together in a wonderful sensual merging of our long-dead spirits… Or I can just slam you round and do it rough in your heavenly ass.
3 Comments
dude? porn? remember?
Oh yes, that PORN!
Too much thinking with my head lately, and too little thinking with my…
Anyway we’ll be back to the PORN today!
thanx
Leave a Fucking Comment
It's nofollow-free for you fucking webmaster wankers!