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Member Since 22 Jun 2006
Offline Last Active Yesterday, 12:29 PM

Topics I've Started

The Land of Glass

26 February 2018 - 01:52 PM

I don't post much here anymore, so I don't know how many of you actually know I've been making a video game. Probably enough because this has been a five-year project and I imagine I mentioned it at least once or twice over that time span. It's not like this site has grown in membership since then.


Anyhow, we got a Steam page and an official trailer on Youtube





AMA, I guess. Share if you think it looks cool. We don't have a marketing budget right now so it's kinda word of mouth and hoping websites will read the emails I've sent.

We fucked up guys. We fucking fucked up. Fuck

29 September 2016 - 06:56 PM



Our legacy is dying




We are no longer the first or even second result when googling Nintenporn. We are number nine. NINE. You know what happened to nine? he got fucking eaten by fucking seven. Piece of shit.


I hope you all realize this is what death feels like. I'ts cold and lonely and the tunnel closes upon nothing but empty Samus tits. They flab and fold because we've grown old, and now we're dead, so embrace the cold.


I hate love all of you.


Edit, at the same time this site is delivering on some serious Peach tits. Like goddamn them knockers




Super NSFW in case any of you idiots are that idiotic. (You know who I'm talkin' about ;) ;) ;) )

Aquaman Porn

20 July 2016 - 03:34 PM

Okay, so I do this comic book podcast called Comics Dash. It's sort of a mess, but it's my mess so fuck off. Anyhow, the running joke has been that Aquaman and Black Manta clearly want to fuck. The sexual tension between the two is insane in the current run of DC comics. Having gotten absolutely fed up with them not fucking, I decided it was my job to fix that. Below is the quick porno story i wrote which I'll be reading on the next podcast.


For reference, this is our latest podcast which Plant might like since we talked about beating off dead horses http://wethenerdy.co...ff-dead-horses/


So, onto the sex!



Aquaman closed his chamber door sporting a wide grin that would soon have a dick in it. His wife knew something fishy was going on, and that’s why he had taken a hook out of Bill Cosby’s hat—who once terrorized the ocean’s college campuses as the Morerape Eel—and asked Mera to toast the recapture of Black Manta. She had taken the bait. Now she was sleeping with the literal fishes, but in the metaphorical sense since she’d wake up tomorrow with probably a bad hangover and wondering why there was seamen on her back. But maybe not. Being a man of the sea, Aquaman had a lot of wet dreams.


The king of Atlantis made his way through his castle, descended a bunch of steps, and walked through a few gloomy hallways, stopping every so often to make sure he wasn’t being followed. His conchubine was in the dungeon, which meant he had to be careful. It would be one thing if Atlantis found out he was cheating on his wife, but a whole coddamn mess if they found out his lover was Black Manta.


Still, that made the whole thing all the more fun. Something about keeping your friends close and your anenemoies closer, though at this point, Black Manta was neither. What should one do with his lovers?


Aquaman rubbed at his crotch, which was stiffer than a sturgeon’s nose, and knew exactly what he should do with his lover.


“Sir?” the two soldiers stationed to guard the undersea terrorist said. They looked on edge because Black Manta always escaped. Always. It was all part of the plan.


“I must question the prisoner,” Aquaman said in his most offishal voice. “Please let us be until I call you back.”


“Yes sir” both said, happy to be free of the most cursed post in all of Atlantis. Aquaman watched them round a corner, their shoulders relaxed and their spears clanking against the stone floor. Soon they were out of sight, heading to the break room. Aquaman listened, herring their footsteps fade into the background.


“Please tell me you aren’t wearing orange and fucking green,” Black Manta said sharkastically. He was facing the wall and not wearing a shirt.


“Have to.” Aquaman said as he closed the door. “I look brilliant in orange and green.”


The undersea terrorist laughed, his voice deep and sexy because he was deep and sexy. “You look like a clownfish.”


“Shut up and kiss me.”


Black Manta tuna round and soon he and Aquaman were wrapped in a pike embrace and staring into each other’s walleyes. Black Manta’s were like green pools of ocean water, and Aquamans were blue or some shit. Back Manta then kissed his lover, so gently that it was like a ghost upon Aquaman’s lips.


“I missed you,” the scarred terrorist said.


“Always. But did you have to kill eight people this time?”


Black Manta tugged at Aquaman’s crotch. “You know it’s more fun this way.”


Aquaman grabbed at Black Manta’s bass and brought him close so their crotches were rubbing together. Even with his pants still on, he could feel Black Manta’s black manta throbbing lustily. Aquaman leaned in close and whispered into his lover’s ear: “It is better this way.”


Black Manta knelt and unbuckled Aquaman’s ugly green pants. He then placed his finger on Aquaman’s tridick and ran it from the tip to the base. It didn’t take very long because Aquaman had a small penis, but still much bigger than the Flash’s who fucking sucks and should be ashamed for existing.


“That feels good,” Aquaman said.


“This will feel better.”


Black Manta opened his mouth and began salmonating all over Aquaman’s member. Aquaman groaned.


“Don’t even think about it,” Black Manta said between suckerfishing. “I’m just lubing this up so you can stick it into my trench.”


"Never!” Aquaman said, but he blushed because it totally happened one time. He had a hair triggerfish when it came to ejaculating.


When Black Manta finished, he turned around and pulled his own pants down, exposing his dark fishlight.


“Stick it in and oyster it around,” he said in his deep, sexy voice because he was still deep and sexy in case you forgot.


Aquaman obliged. He thrust his throbbing member into Black Manta’s halibut, forcing it in so far their balls slapped together. His lover made a face, and Aquaman knew it would stringray a bit. Black Manta was still getting used playing the role of beta. It had to be this way though, because Aquaman was a king and, despite having a small penis and suffering from premature ejaculation, could not a bottom. That would just be orcaward.


It only took a few quick threshes before Aquaman was breaching his salty chum into Black Manta’s tight carphole. “Ugh,” Aquaman groaned, pleasure shivering through his loins.


“My turn,” Black Manta said, turning around. His penis was huge and already dribbling precum.


Aquaman knelt down and opened his mouth, goblin sharking as much of the penis as he could. Like Black Manta with anal, he wasn’t very good at deep throating.


“Just relax,” Black Manta said. “You don’t have to take the whale thing. And if it gets uncomfortable, let minnow.”


Aquaman wasn’t normally koi, but Black Manta could somehow make him blush with ease. He felt his face heat up, and Black Manta began to laugh.


“You’re cute like this.”


On his knees and with his ugly green pants still around his ankles, the king of Atlantis suckerfished the worst terrorist the sea had ever seen to completion. A salty, warm spray filled his mouth, and now the last question was: Should be squid it out or swallow?


With a light shrug, Aquaman gulpered it down. It wouldn’t do to have the guards come back and find an empty cell filled with cum. That would raise some strange questions.


Black Manta sat back down on his cot, and Aquaman sat next to him. For the next twenty minutes, the two cuddlefished together, happy to be in each others’ company. Then it was time for Aquaman to leave, though not before hiding the key to his secret lover’s cell underneath the cot.


“Until next time,” he said.


“Until next time,” Black Manta said.

Wayward Son

09 July 2016 - 01:24 PM

I wrote this poem thing something like two years ago, maybe further back, and told myself it was publishable. I'd hang onto it for that right moment. I then forgot about it. Well, today I recalled it (thank you Kansas (the band)), and reread it. Dayum is it pretentious. Perhaps the most pretentious thing I've ever written. Not publishable, but hopefully interesting. It's so "in my own head" that it maybe reads like nonsense.


The Pledge

The chains the chains
Hark and hear the chains
The savior’s come the angels sing
Hark and hear the chains


I hear them well this sunny strife, oh glory, soundswept chains! He comes he comes, oh bless his heart, to cure us of our pains. In crude we bleed and stone we stand for penance harsh yet just demand, but sorrow sighs, forgiveness cries; I hear him in this land! Let Nowhere be a Somewhere now, a loving place an Eden found where we can all please live as one away from sin and summer’s degradation.


The chains the chains
Rattle in the light
The Wayward Son is come at last

Hark and fix our blight


The sun shines far in red disgrace, a cooling forge a listless face. A once awash in sin and rape when tempers flared and minds erased, it brought upon a vivid heat that burned away all grace and sleep. But now it cracks and melts away, ending now an endless day—the Journey starts this night. Our Savior brings a frozen love, a happiness and winter found, so hear me now, the Wayward Son! He’ll whisper gone the devastation.


The chains the chains!


The Arc is near and arcing here while chanting with cold metal. See the thermals rise in joy; salvation spites the Devil. Apostles wrought and with them brought creations for a world so fraught with sin and longing for a cure, a something better something more: to stop the faultiness of man. And now the fabled ship of life in shipment knifes its way across the sand with calling swells so far from Hell, halleluiah, please hear our reformation!


See the sea of might!


Massive ship with missing mast is pulled with love and windless mass. Crossbeams stretch with arms out wide, bringing to us children life. Above, above, I see him there! Our Wayward Son is brilliant fair in everything he’s bound to do, perfection marked with happy tears. See the sun bow down to him, setting red and burning dim. The heat is gone at final last, the Wayward Son has stopped our past with presents for our future too: He brims with glaciation.


He sings away the sins we cast!


Now the happy children move in dancing circles all but prove how right we were to raise our songs and voices high in praising thanks to noble heights. Stuck no longer in our ways, we move at last to setting days, to fix ourselves to fix our world, a second chance with brand new swirls. The sand now gleams in brilliant orange, copper flakes that rise and shake to joyful bursts from chilling works of wonder. The Wayward Son has stopped at last to perfect jubilation!


Hark this Godly knight!


The chains they fall as we all bow to he who saved us all from imperfection. We ring around his ship so vast in spiral furls of penance asking for the night to stay for cold to love and dreams to sway forever in our hearts. He looks at us with golden eyes that well with tears and kindness wise; his mouth gapes wide in wailing song that shifts the wind and makes the night turn long forever the correction. His piercing sound of searing love starts our hearts and fixes desperation!


The chains the chains
Noble wonder chains
The savior came he angel sang
Hark and praise the chains


The Turn


The chains the chains?


Nowhere is alive at last, found again and starting fresh; a brand new name of Wandering Child in reference to perfection mild a savior of all nations. Shadows in cast outer glows, I see this city thrive and grow while stars rain down in heavens sky like rivers made of silver. And there the ship is resting peace while all our world awakes from sleep, for Journeys start and Journeys end, but mind that not my weary friends, for tonight we all are one absolved in limitation.


Wrong invades the right?


But something isn’t quite so right, for joyful praise is lacking might. Apostles see and nod and weep but sing with us they cannot reap the wonders under stars which glide upon this night. I go to them; they turn away with stoic love and nothing say their eyes which crack and burn to pressures I may never learn in life. And yet I yearn to comfort them, for they brought wonder savior’s din which cured us all and fixed the Fall with perfect invocation.


His wailing heart is broken vast?


Worry is expanding here, a swelling heat with busy fear. Apostles search in frantic dance for missing love and hopeful chance to leave but forced to stay as Nowhere lives in great dismay again. There he sits, the gold is gone, replaced by fear and tarnished bronze, huddled in a darkness deep so pale and small and filled with grief that shakes him with a violent hand whose wrists are red and broken in. Singing screams hold laceration.


Hark this painful night?

The Prestige


To the Arc we now must go, lost in thought and body too. Apostles come in silent black, worry free but troubled yet the night still shines in iron deep with silver stars and magic free to fix our world forever. My Wayward Son begins to quake as we approach his rightful fate when wrongness bleeds in brightness hot like burning suns all casting rot to never speak again. Life it dies as corpses writhe of children small in mutilation.


The chains the chains
Bleeding on in spite
The future died relive the past
Hark this sorrow sight


We bring the dark. We bring the cold. We flee the sun forever old. An Eden once lived in this world, a flourish full with greens and blues where cities dwelt and grew and bred, but all is gone. All is dead. The Wayward Sons bring life to us in glory false, salvation lost forever. The Cosmos watches in disgust, our lifeless ball of death and dust which circles in the nether. Inconceivability bites in savage molestation.


The chains the chains
Slaving needed chains
Our saviors live and die and sing
Hark and fear the chains



Plant has bad tastes. Also, Half-Life 3: coming today!

22 May 2016 - 06:02 PM

As someone who's never played either of the first two games, I don't get why they're loved so much. I just see some Tenchi-Muyo-lookin' muh'fucker, but there must be something that makes his games so good. Is it just the story, or are they games that were "good for their time" or "ahead of their time" and nowadays they're just cult favs?