Error 404.

Are you sure that web-page actually exists? Because I sure as hell can't find it.


But you can look at this stuff instead. It's about as useful as a typical web-page anyway.


stag FISH plankton sticky glue-covered albatross, velcro-covered aardvarks for whole-room application - couch made of live mongooses, lovingly hand-weaved and asked to hold position long enough for you to sit down - if those shades dn't work for your interior decorating motif, why not just cover your windowpanes with live ants? -
looked at the body with a growing disgust and horror. "This could only be the work of Cthulhu," I told Lathrop. "Look at the Cyclopean way that sandwich was eaten. Look at the non-Euclidian bullets. I'll bet anyamount of money this took place on Yog-Shoggohepth.At the light of the full moo
progress has achieved wonderful things, too. Paving. Asphalt. Smog. Car alarms that wake you up in the middle of the fucking night. Carcinogenic food. The Exxon Valdez. That stereo in the apartment upstairs. Hydrogen bombs. Hormone-injected meat. Artificial coloring. Alarm clocks (and a society so dependent on measured time that we need alarm clocks). Television, and a society that has replaced "How can we improve the human condition?" with "Hey, did'ja see the Simpsons last night? Huh huh". An Internet where people like us can waste away their free time instead of going out and having a life. Yeah! Progress! I love it! Get me the genetic splicing kit! I want to make a new kind of trout! He grabbed Steinfrau's nose. There was nothing for it now; he had to hang on, hang on for dear life, or else the mad German would be gone and there would be no way to prove his innocence. Steinfrau tried to roll up the window of the moving cab, but with a massive lunge he managed to jam his free hand in and around the crank; the pressure on his arm was terrible, but the window stopped in mid-rise, and the extra handgrip helped him hang on as the cab increased its speed. They were heading toward Midtown. There was a chance, a bare chance; if he could hook his ankle around the fence at the 59th Street sidewalk café he might be able to slow them down. But would he be able to? People were screaming, throwing things; there were angry shouts from theatregoers and commuters, traffic cops pointed at him and swore. Steinfrau seemed to be egging them on, damn him.
Back to Orthopedics / Back to that Other Place
once the squid is inserted, it's a simple matter of getting it mad