Today I decided to sacrifice my pubes to the Lord of All Darkness so I burnt them off with a Vaginia Slimes 100 butt I have been smoking and putting out the last 3 days to conserve my cigs. The sub-human ‘rents stole my last pack and I’m condemned and confined to the roomgeon until Satyrsday. I got some nice burns on the mons which looks wikked gross. When my pale soulless lover Smellinda comes for sleep-over I’ll freak her out with my oozing sores. All Hail Satan He rules my soul.
I used to shave them with this but its pink and not even close to evil. From now on my pubes will be purged with fire. Next project (when I get some more ciggies): Eyebrows removal.
can’t stop living can’t stop thinking can’t stop puking
[ 17 Aug 2003|06:41am]
[ mood groggy ]
[ music the lords of the new church-new church ]
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.
Went to take a ‘nap’ at 7 pm because I was a walking zombie.
Woke up 41 hours later at 6 in the morning.
Now I’m hot, cranky, and disoriented. Hot because it’s like an oven in my room. Cranky because I slept the 2 days away without even meaning to. Disoriented because of the 3 bottles of Coricidin mixed with my parent’s vodka. Vodka is the best bottle to leech out of because you can refill it with water and not get caught for a week or two anyway. You don’t so much get high from Coricidin as you get turn into a Night of the Living Dead extra. I was staggering around my bedroom intoning “Brains, brains” last I remember, then next thing I know I wake up my arm is almost gangrenous from lack of circulation while I laid on it and I almost drowned in my own drool. Worse than choking on your own vomit. The sight and smell of the remaining Romalar cocktail almost make me puke, speaking of vomit. It didn’t taste all that bad though. It’s Coricidinalicious!
Oh, and let’s not forget FRUSTRATED AS HELL about the the $30 I spent on a bag of oregano the dude told me was the killer chronic. At least I still have 2 more bottles of Coricidin left and no real plans for Thorsday and Frightday
found a box of sharp objects, what a beautiful thing… I cut my arms now my ears start to ring
[ 16 Aug 2003| 06:57am ]
[ mood | tired ]
[ music | stark-wield (album version) ]
Saw Freddy vs. Jason last night. <3 <3 Krueger is my hero. Jason’s okay, but as I’ve said…Jason X has forever tarnished his image in my mind; he has yet to redeem himself. I mean the writing just didn’t hold up in that one and the plot was weak and vapid. There was next to no character development for the victims. I mean, I really want to HATE the pukey little teeny-bopper bags of guts so I can enjoy it when they get decapitated and slit open ass to airway. And there was way less blood then I expected and almost no entrails. I live for disembowelings. *wink*
We went to a late showing. The theater was pretty packed and there were about 30 ANNOYING pubescent hellions sitting in front of and next to us. They all had their faces painted…mostly like the dudes from Twiztid & ICP, both of which are sooo fuggin’ 2 years ago. If you are going to be outrageous and irritating, at least don’t be passe, ok twinks?
These little SHITS were annoying the living PISS out of me. I can honestly say that I was worried about an aneurism because my temples were throbbing and HellGod knows my vascular system is on the edge of catastrophe at the best of times. I have an explosive temper, and it’s entirely possible that I might have called down the power of our Dark and Dreary Lord in pig-demon form. I relented and reversed the incantation before he manifested in the flesh but I was momentarily possessed and a whole jumbo-sized Coke ended up on their painted heads. Much teen angst was spewed and swear words were said, but my temples receded and my evil soul gloated. We spent the rest of the movie pelting them serruptiously with Sour Patch Kids everytime they opened their mouths. My deadpan stare completely left them baffled as to the true perpetrator of their torment. I was well trained in the Hell-Arts, and the whining of the agonized do not move my dead heart. I merely gazed back at them with glazed eyes of a viper while they peeled Sour Patches out of their stringy, black=dyed hair.
Really…I waited too many years for this movie to have it ruined by a bunch of snot-nosed 3rd generation Kiss rejects in face paint. Carnage is my life and celluloid carnage is my life’s wallpaper. And the screams of the damned are my soundtrack. Howls of the Gummi-stricken will also suffice in a pinch.
[ 15 Aug 2003|06:43am ]
[ mood | exhausted ]
[ music | bowling for soup – punk rock 101 ]
I’m up at 6:40 am because I work a morning shift today…7:30-12:00. *grumbles* I’m not quite sure I can function this early, but…welcome to the real world, Tortura S. I had not even seen 10am since the I started afternoon sessions in the 5th grade. However, I am forced to enter the world of commerce through dire necessity. I need cash for some ritual ingrediants, Satanic Tracts from the Wiccan Womyn bookstore and some Twizzlers and Diet Pepsis to last me the entire weekend. Plus cigs and lip gloss.
I officially started my job at the pizzaria on Tuesday. I skillfully managed to avoid my supervisors for the first few days because I knew if I ran into one of them, they’d stick my incompetent ass on register. I spent a lot of the time in the rest room and claimed “female problems”. There’s no argument a guy can make in the face of “female problems”, its completely out of their league and most guys not only don’t understand the inner workings of the vagina, they don’t even want to think about it. So I escaped.
However, for the past two days, I have not been so fortunate.@&*!$
I was arrested and molested and trained in the cash register arts by Mahmoud, the Iranian manager who spits when he talks and smells like a goat’s ass. The thing has pictures of the items on it for the literacy challanged, so learning the operation of the technology was not rocket science. After a few hours it became so easy I developed a routine. I stand there for hours on end, ringing up pizza-faced teenager’s pizzas and becoming an unwitting ‘hit on practice dummy’ / therapist for teenboy twinks whose last piece of ass was their gym sock. The key, as with pretty much everything, is to nod and smile and simply listen to them unload all of their bullshit/ignorance/childishness.
I have mastered a withering sneer in response to the mildest and nicest comeon. The more nice they are, the shittier my attitude. I hovered between reveling in sharing my misery at having to work a shit job and guilt at being such a cunt to guys who seemed to be genuinely interested in my sociopathic ass. However…the strange thing is…I actually FEED off the hate I project back to them. D.E.L. sits on his throne of skulls below and nods and spews phlegm, blood and pus in joy at my compliance. I’m supposed to be a Gothling here, hello, I can’t fall into the simpering teeny boy-crazy vampirette mode. I must be strong.
P.S. FREDDY!* <3___________________________________
*If there’s any doubt in your mind about who is king shit, just ask yourself whose name comes FIRST in the title. That’s right bitches! w 0 r d. I pattern my life after Freddie and the Dark Lord just nods and smiles. Oh yeah, evil and stab-happy, that’s me. Actually I would have liked to go see How To Deal but I can’t afford to be seen at a Mandy Moore movie. My Cruella DeVille rep takes enough of a beating working at the pizza/arcade.
[10 Aug 2003| 02:18pm ]
[ mood | confused]
[ music | collony 5-is she scared? ]
I usually don’t post shit like this…but… Who Will You Murder? by Sari Name Tortura Satanica Date May 3, 2025 Victim Daniel Radcliffe Price of Trial $101,925,462 Verdict Guilty Sentence Death by Acidbath
Fill Out Your Answers and Try it!
DANIEL RADCLIFFE? The Harry Potter kid?Well he is annoying.
Practiced some spells today. Masturbated with a crucifix. Read through The Necromicon Jr. Ate sin and shit horror and hellfire. I sat cross-legged in my blackest shroud feeling really dark and of Satan then my sister calls me into her room to watch the Lizzy Maguire movie and we ate 3 whole boxes of Thin Mints then a SpongeBob marathon came on and I was feeling so normal and girlie while we did each other’s toenails in bright orange polish that I lost all my Evil Points for the week. I am a deviant minion, its just fucking hard to stay hellbent all day and all night with cable TV and the Cartoon Network.
I got hired at the Camelot Video Arcade/Pizzaria. Ok its a shit job but after ditching hs at 15 what’s a white girl to do for cigs and tampons? Plus I can pig out every day for free and there are lots of evil things I can do to people’s pizzas if they vex me. So far pubic hairs are the most evil I’ve disseminated, but I have some blackheads all ready to pop if I get any shit from a customer
And I can play Vid games with free tokens on my breaks, which is good for hand/eye coordination. Sorceresses need that to coordinate whilst hurling plasma-balls of fire across the firmament. I know all the cheat codes for GTA but I usually play in cheat mode: Enter “BSTARD” as a player name for all levels, all weapons, infinite ammunition, ninety-nine lives, armor, “Get Out Of Jail Free” card, display coordinate, maximum wanted level, 5x multiplier. Rock.
The orange and yellow uniform with the pillbox hat is decidely dis-Evil and I must remove my soul from my body during work hours lest the Dark Putrid Lord be angered and consume me with tongues of flame, not to mention if Hillary or Kadisha her minion see me they will never let it go.
Speaking of which I’d like to feed one of the hungry ovens with the flesh of the fat, purilent bags of pus that escape from the trailer park and come in for the 5pm buffet ($3.99, all you can eat, no sharing). Sometimes they load entire pizzas into massive purses and sneak them out. I can imagine their ungodly spawn eating the congealed mass directly from the bag, dipping their inbred deformed flippers into the purse slathered with sauce and greasy cheese and sucking it off with relish as they gaze, blank-eyed at the boob tube watching reruns of RoseAnne and Friends. I spike them with plenty of Ex-Lax to help with the digestion. I must be Evil in small ways before I progress to dis-aligning the planets and raining liquid fire on humanity.
For now I just cause liquid shit to rain on the Port-O-Lets of the Damned.
Who needs the peeny when you have the rubber weeny?
[30 Jul 2003| 12:28am ]
[ mood | horny ]
[ music| sophya-captive beauty in the nursery-outburn mantus-marian ]
The Satanic Majesty commanded me to spread a noxious death gas throughout Remedial English 101, and who could have predicted it would end with me cussing out the Dean of Womyn and quitting summer school, which means if I go back in Sept. I’ll be a freshman again and I think I might hang myself before All Hallowed’s Eve if I did that with all my same teachers.
I spent the day meditating and smoking under the overpass and took a drink from a bottle of yellow wine some vagrant with no teeth passed me.
I must immerse myself in decadence and social decay to be able to more fully accept Satan’s Blessing of Wrong Sacrements. But the guy’s teeth were so gross I had to disassociate and my physical self left that plane. Plus it smelled like he shit his pants.
Ladies…Tortura needs a bi-girl sex minion. If you are between the ages of 17 and 29 and are submissive and interested, please contact me immediately. I’m a pro at femme-femme oral and have all the toys a young girl needs to fill those empty spaces, plus attachments and cosmic devices and other implements of destruction.How can you pass up such a wikked sexy offer?!
Ah who am I kidding. I’ve made out with my friend Melissa topless a couple times but it was so goofy we broke up laughing. Its just that to be a truly evil person I can’t let some hairy, horny, tit-grabbing MALE defile my pale beauty. Hell I might even fall for him and set myself up for heartache. That my pride will simply not allow. I need a submissive bi-girl who I can train to satisfy my every sordid whim. Mostly I’d like to get her to give me a pedicure on demand and clean my room and sort through the disgusting pile of laundry in the corner.
Plus she could run down and get me some cigs from the corner 7-11. I need a minion and pronto. We’ll get to the sex part when we get there. I have better uses for you darling (cackles maniacally).