Cool BOy

pulpfactory

Cool BOy

While awaiting the second evolution of DRifella to save them from their creative slumber, the mifellas take a working holiday to old London

Idleing in my jizz chamber. Soiled sheets, faint brown stain in the mattress crevasse of my torso weight. The heat pumped, back sweat, near the window the airconditioner purred on at rising of the thermometer. Russo-china fragmented zone. Infantry conglomerate, injured and pushed aside in japanese designed barracks. The lad needs the full treatment. Jacked out like an automatic hammer, jizz rags askew. Rocket bombs hit the sky on posters in full animation, 3d graphics, accelerated optical charms. The pokemon were doing the fighting now. The fellas just couldn’t bear it. THis fella was tired. The heat on his boyish skin, unshowered, unneeded, it was his charm, nice little hairs and a tan, even on his ball sack, once wasted in the mine fields, naked and exposed to the suns bullets and barbed wire. His sexual fantasies are so distorted from the pop-avant-girls styles of the month they once were. I cant believe that bitch aborted the fetus. Well yes i am so grateful to have had the privilege of being close to her, even in side that one tokyo evening, no small feat for one of her kind. I gotta cool off man. An elegant air conditioner, white body, wide and slender, angular as as airodyhnamcs. I can’t believe I own an AC. Staring at it in a ritalin daze. On the sides, the lettering in red, “fujitsu”. I frisbeed my gayass silicon valley fashion statement device into the trash pile of the corner in a disgusted rage. There was a time when the cpu roamed like a space stallion, fujitsu FMR, i remeberwed from memories before i was born, the gods of the computer, neck to neck with nec98. Jacking in that modem, too hot to jack it, i felt the cool breeze of fujitsu on my naked thighs, this faint last glimmer of their prowess, giving me hope, cooling me down. Somewher in time in the glorious market pump of the japanese golden age, as the glorious market pump fuels the nft golden age, where all things are born in the pumping of the market, the one constant bringing aesthetics to perfection across the generations. I still had my cords, i still had my simulators. It could have all been so different if the russo-chinois cartel didnt manipulate the tech stocks. This media frenzy, falling like plinko software disk with no mind, such a steal ball weight of shit time. FUck the generals mate, he said, cranking the speakers to the max before official wake up time, up all night, scouring lost gems on the internet archive. He’d made a playlist. He was a DJ, mate, and he had spikes in his hair.
Rich on crypto-monnaies, that was the only way forward from here. He had to get his cock online and registered with an exchange. Online, fuck mate, the cops cant dish out a serial to modem interface cable. He had the Toji Pocket 3 with the faux-white marble finish, a stylish palm top commuter computer, standard issue from the factory, but not with the capacities of a full desktop. he had re-formated all his sram cards, including the 128 kb/s modem connector to hold his tracks this morning. It took 5 sram cards just for burzum dunkelheit. And it was only 8-bit sound on the POcket 3. His little sram card buddies, fuddled up loose in his pockets clinkinking like hash coins. A true rage head here. And now he was fucked for a connection. Fuck it, ill jack the door to the bosses office at the plant and do it there. He blasted his shit at full distorted volume on the inter train on his way to the shift, passing out here, ripping cigs out the window there.

New Email:

12 emails

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Cryptsy
Mon 20/01/2014 22:18
Hi andy,

Thank you for creating an account at Cryptsy.com.

You have been registered with the username: earl1601

Please activate your account by going to the following URL:

full chart need to look at a chart. it just unrolls. map chart unroll. go into on chart. smiling chart. walking the chart looking at it look with me. i dream of looking at a chart with you. lean your shoulder into mine we can be close together looking at the chart. its so nice. it would be so nice. our smiling chart, our baby with a smiling mouth, opened, gasping onto the chart, our hearts together opened onto the chart, the browser opened onto the chart opening on to us watching the screen light up and dim into the hellscape sunrise of our lives.

Greetings Cryptsy User,

I'm sending you a notice to let you know that Cryptsy.com is now open for business. Cryptsy.com pairs BTC, LTC, DOGE, and many other alt coins directly with $MIF.

Paul Vernon aka BigVern
Cryptsy.com

p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601

Liquid charged up in the organ, permeating digestive nodes, his spout was ready for discharge. Retained, why did he practice semen retention so much, now even his wartime liquid was stuck in side him. No, just nervousness. Just nervous. relax. In the arena of life all will be discharged or the self will perish. Wasn’t that in the rules on the back of the floppy. HE did have an external floppy drive, batteries required, of course, or a higher voltage adapter. Costumer support was not very helpful. TOo many area codes. He had many cheat codes, but absolutly no idea what his area code was. A simple combination of buttons and a fresh 3v bios cell was enough to get it back and running. He felt the liquid boil up like bodily shut down as the vomit builds up face down in the toilet bowl. He was ready. A, B, Right, Left, Right, Left, Down, Down, Up, Up, Start. His fingers, slender and grippy, recalled their clitoral stimulation cadence, that perfect song he had composed in the care free years of youth. Dratini engaged. His one true love. Not now mom. His rocket launcher slung over the shoulder. Fuck ice got a dragon fire breath my balls gotta ice pick fucking behind a waterfall thats some pokemon shit. Screen pan right attack the grass. Helmet on head safety first. Bionocle sniper scope got that hoe in my fire sight. Miftini scuttles across the war field. Get fucked nazi asshole. If you are russian or chinese you are now dead, you faggot. Mifella doesnt care. MIfella fucks. Up, down, a, b hits blunt. Ukrainian wheat prices increase 15%.

Nfts did not really exist. How could something exist while not being gassed up in the contract? We had dogecoin. One doge was one nft. Not technologically, but in essence it was our closest cognate. AN edition of 100 billion, divisible to 8 decimal places. As many nfts for everyone. One doge. One community. Until one day, several years later, elon decided to take a shit on us and ruined the whole thing. But its fine, there are plenty of other things to enjoy in this world. More shitcoins. More nfts. Making some nfts like candy apples. Until they get destroyed. THen something else. THe fun never ends. We have so much fun and there is so much to do. Smoke break at Toji cpu factory. SMoke break over. 12 cigarette packs, back to work. Need to work for my smokes and nfts.

The market is active... deciding its next active direction. the chart unrolls into a map. chart is map. old map. secrets contained there in the map. everywhere a hidden detail but not a consciously produced detail, details made in error, details made by chance and normal human inaccuracies that leave that trace we so love to see. dips and pivots, the price should not have slipped there. the ink should have bled there, it did, and caught the pigment particles in the rough pores of the paper forming a perfectly shaded island. The island is an island in the the forbidden regions of the japanese sea, a great island for duckemon hunting, perfectly sculpted pokeducks with nice coats of feather, just like home.

Everything is as beautiful as home. Stable diffusion prompt: high res photo, pristine home landscape, beautiful motherly woman, large breasts, trad wife, super high detail, fuzzy skin, grime, dirt, ambient lighting, bliss

Cryptsy
To:
You
Wed 22/01/2014 02:53
Hi andy,
This email is to confirm your withdrawal request at Cryptsy.com
Username: earl1601
Amount of Withdrawal: 1395361694.2222 DOGE
Withdrawal Address: Dijfn73SNu6gVj0iGEDtt98O5Ujt4sJ
You will need to confirm this request by clicking the following link:
https://www.cryptsy.com/users/confirmwithdrawal/aWtRYy9ydzRZTi9nQW9xVnI0RmNxaWp4UU51aVJxdzdqaTAvdTFHZ0M5UT0=
Cryptsy

Ps in case you for got:
Happy Trading!
Paul Vernon aka BigVern
Cryptsy.com
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601
p.s. In case you forgot, your username at Cryptsy is: earl1601

Happy Trading!

Paul Vernon aka BigVern
Happy Trading!

Paul Vernon aka BigVern

destroyed the evidence.

Back at the factory the mifellas gather behind the serial number stamping machine, 1123, 1234, 1125… stampt that bitch…. Stamp my cock. The mifellas were growing in numbers and strength adn they all had wages… small incomes… now that they had renounced the eevils of the ladies, youngs girls really, they were going for the mamas now, pretrained women by the factory social stability fund. The mamas had their money money from prior divorce sttlements and their breasts were swollen from the effects of a healthy diet. Despite the evils by nature of a factory, life had a certain grungy aestheric that appealed to years of their birth. The peak of computer aesthetics and industrial acoustics. They were allowed micro fishing breaks out back behind the factory. THe tenago swam in the suprisingly unpolluted ditches, anime style, japense little fishies, hooking them on their tenago rigs, they blasted harsh noise extended drone mix on their head phones because they didnt wanna scare the little fishes with loud speakers.

A pint of whisky and some coney dogs later, all japanese versions of course, stylized, experpertly platted to the style of bento boxed composition respectablilty, they went back to work. It was sad to see a mifella working. A mifella should be causing expertly precise bits of controlled brain damages to produce creativity out burst caused by the disruption of normal brain activity. The dark german lord nitszche is supposed to have had his mad creativity from syphilis induced brain hemmeroging. But all is okay, as things usually go in life, the little lads overcome their difficulties and produce their multidimensional genre and medium defying artworks in the fCE OF STRUGGLE, IT IS THE STRUGGLE THAT PUSHES THEM. to take it so far. How nice is this life. As soon as they get some pussy things wil be perfect. SOme of them do sometimes, even. So yes, it is good.

As soon as they had made 400$ worth in yen equivalent to crypto monnies, they launched their new nft collections. On solana it was cheaper to make a collection and it was hard to trust vitalik lord of etherium, the male gretta, but supposedly with a massive cock. So there was that. He did have that.

In jolly old London ENgland victorian decadence was charming all its charm right proper in freshly painted facades napping brickwork thatching and ornate tea cup handles. Good enough for a pint. The fellas all chipper as the work week sweated down and the ale tasted fresh and cold as a proper cold one with the lads always does when so deserved as it is now. The mission: (there always has to be a purpose, no free trips to London from the Factory while the factions are at war, and what better place to spend a war than LOndon) reconaissance of the industrial revolution architecture, for animated production stimulation, make computers cool again was the idea. As hardware vanishes through the ages of the design process, the user holding pure function in his palm leaves the tech overlords in a glee of hardware cost savings. It cant be this way, if the Koreans have something to say about it, and the japanese on top, taking it in the right direction, as thye havefor the ceturnies in the asian sea economy. We will bring back the unit. The unit will be strong, the cpu processors will flicker of electrons burning silicon red hot in the pocket, burning like a message from a spanish beauty, I cant look at it just yet, leave it hot in the pocket, warm in the heart, just image what the bambino wants with my cock, and perhaps too seom romance, should the london skies turn bright and orange in the Peckham sunset. Mechanics. Its all about mechanics, said Based prince Charles. The mechanics need space. We must not crowd the mechanics. You see there those blue overalled lads with wrenches on the hips like cowboys at high tea time? Its gotta have them a coffee machine to get the job done. ANd the coffee machine goes i the breakroom, and the break room has a cigarette vending machine, large as a royal tombstone. Thats the key. Spaceioous curvature of fabricated material. No bodies a punk around, my hair aint pink and spikey. Erreh erreh. Its spikey DJ-J-J-J-J-J-J. Techno thunderclouds rumbles the poverty stricken factory worker domicile gutter laneway excuse for a neighbor hood. Well thats london said SS drip pulse demon overlay…. Classical jungle sucked into a hyperventilating factory smokestack air purifier of inu=ductrial proportions distorted the sound as it was designed to do in acoustic bending formations, you dont need a digital computer to make music is what im getting from all this. They really do have some shit, albeit a bit wankers going on here. Londons always been a tad wanks mate. But the computer need a chassis that you can rest your toddler holding an ashtray on. We call this one the Packard boot because you can store a revolver and a pint of irish whiskey undernieth the keyboard. CAn you feel that smokestack bass? Yes, yes I can sir mifella. We will just have to modernize the whole thing. How I do not know. Im a simple soldier. CHilling with my soldier fella mates sipping fresh pints and mango sorbet.

Its a long trip home and i am quite depressed. Thats an over simplification. I got a masala stomach flu and am noxious as a smokestack. Just a few more emails. AA batteries, need me some double AAs. I can spare you a few said the gent behind me on the trolly commuter train. Just enough to boot up in dos mode sir. Can I spare your modem as well for a tick. RIght you are mifella. Every fella needs modem now and then. Ye mate, just a couple emails and a couple crypto trades over the central station tube server:

Drifella
Drifella
DRifella
Frifella
Drifella
Driefella
Derigfell
Dferifilla
Fdr
Efiewf
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Driielkgd

Dodfoe
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Drifells
Ldldlslla

Yours Truly,

Cool Boy