lolz

[aliencurv]

http://forums.beyond.ca/showthread.p...=&pagenumber=2

[BaggedGLI]

Re: lolz

Ahhahahahha

[BaggedGLI]

Re: lolz

Someone needs to get on there and change his username to RagePoo.

[onceover]

Re: lolz

I don't have a beyond account. Cliff notes?

[aliencurv]

Re: lolz

A friend of mine discovered a sql injection exploit on beyond's server. He didn't want to do anything horrible, but just wanted to make rage laugh. So he copy and pasted that post AS rage2. They've been trying to figure out how he did it and where the vulnerability is.

[R_Ethug]

Re: lolz

whoops!^^

time to upgrade the backend

hha DJ!

[BaggedGLI]

Re: lolz

The story for those without a beyond account.

Originally posted by rage2
Just by its nature, the probability of contracting food poisoning from fish is always higher than most other foods. This is why, based on personal experience, I recommend that no one ever engage in anal sex after your date ate a large fish dinner.


We hadn't been dating that long, only about a month. Even though we'd only been dating a short time, we were having sex since the second date, and it was the best, freakiest, porno-style sex of my life. Seriously, this was the kind of sex that every man, deep down, dreams about having at least once in his life. It was the kind of sex that I had wished for ever since my voice started changing. It was with this man, and only with this man, that I was ever addressed with the phrase, "Use your whole fist for Christ's sake."


On one now infamous date night, we were enjoying a romantic dinner at an upscale seafood restaurant. Through the entire meal, however, sex was all that was on our minds. In retrospect, every date we ever went on seemed to just be a temporary diversion from the best part of the night, which involved animalistic insertions, feral lickings and brazen misuse of food products. We emptied wine bottle after wine bottle over the course of the dinner, and by the time the main course arrived, fish for his and lobster for me, he slipped off his shoes and casually masturbated me under the table with his stocking covered feet. Completely plastered and horny by the end of the meal, we decided to skip dessert in the restaurant because a much sweeter dessert "was being prepared in his hot, wet crotch," he said. I paid the bill and narrowly avoided getting a speeding ticket, not to mention a DUI, during the drive back to my place.


By the time we got into my apartment, we were tearing each other's clothes off. Sloppy in our drunkenness, we knocked over two lamps during our horny, groping journey into the bedroom. Once in the bed, he got down on all fours, arched his back, and presented his delicious ass to me. I grunted my approval while aiming my rock-hard cock missile at his hairy silo.


"In my ass," he hissed at me, sounding both horny and angry at the same time.


"Are you sure," I asked?
He giggled as he said, "If I could handle last night..."


Oh yeah, I thought. Last night's adventure involved a clown mask, three packets of Pop Rocks, and a twenty-inch replica of the Eiffel Tower. What the hell was I thinking? Of course he could handle some anal-action. He reached between his legs and began lubing up his *******. Where did I find this guy? I thought. I was in horn-dog heaven. Blessed. Not being an expert in anal intrusion, I slowly eased my way into his lovely stink-star. First the head, then a quarter of the shaft, and soon I was buried to the hilt between his ass-cheeks.


Go slowly, he said, half moaning, half panting in both pleasure and pain, I think. I did as he bid, and very slowly began pulling out, like a steam piston on an old locomotive beginning its first run in a century. Almost all the way out of him, but keeping the head firmly planted in his ass-iris, I slowly began inserting again.


"Yeeeeees!" he moaned. Soon he said, "Faster." So faster I went, the tempo increasing until the train was running at full speed, the piston pumping in and out so fast my cock became a complete blur.


"Gnnnnnnnah!" he screamed. Thinking he was close to orgasm, I pumped that ass even faster, faster than Amish meth-head churns butter.


"Gnnnnnahstoooop," he screamed, or something like this, because the noise in my head was drowning out the reality around me, for in my head I heard a steam locomotive, chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-Woo-Woo! Barreling down the tracks, and somehow I pumped even faster.


"YES!" I screamed.
He started reaching behind himself and flailing on the bed in what I thought was ecstasy.


"Stop!" he screamed, able to finally get out the word I had mistaken for groans of ecstasy moments ago. He screamed this with such volume and guttural, primal force that it had the effect of pulling the emergency brake on a 100,000 pound locomotive running at full speed. The sex act squealed to a halt, and I pulled my cock out of his ass like the rip-cord on a parachute. Did someone order champagne? No, that popping noise was my cock coming out of his ass.


"Arrrrrrgh!" he screamed, as I yanked my cock free. And then it happened.


Immediately after my cock popped out, I was sprayed from belly to thighs with watery, fish-smelling diarrhea.


"What the-?" I said, not able to get the word "****" out of my mouth because of my shock at the brown funk lining my body. As he sprayed me, he seemed to be propelled forward by the force of the jet-propelled diarrhea, and he collapsed onto his stomach.


"Oh. My. Fucking. God." I murmured, completely shell-shocked. Everything was still. I could hear my wind-up alarm clock ticking on my dresser. I stared at my ****-covered body. I surveyed the room to see if there was any collateral damage. The trajectory of the diarrhea spray was similar to buck-shot in a sawed-off shotgun; it was everywhere. Unfortunately, during the sex act he had been facing the feet-side of the bed, which meant that the headboard, my bedside table and lamp had poop on them as well. Even my bedside clock had a few speckles staining its face. The bed sheets: Killed in Action. A total loss.


I looked at my date, lying there motionless. I called his name. No response. I called his name while shaking him a bit. Nothing. Fear shot through me, as I thought, "Oh my god, what if he's dead?" But this fear quickly dissipated when I heard him snoring. He was passed out from the wine. I on the other hand was no longer blasted drunk, because the blast from his ass rendered me completely sober. This night was definitely going down in the (ahem) annals as the all time worst date of my life. In fact, I had to invent a new special category, "Even the Devil would feel sympathetic," to describe this night.


I cleaned up. I cleaned him up. I cleaned the headboard, the dresser, the lamp and the clock. With some manipulation of his passed out body, I was able to wrangle the sheets from the bed and throw them down the garbage chute. By two in the morning, I found myself lying on my couch, drinking Jack Daniels from the bottle. I don't remember passing out myself, but I can say that unconsciousness didn't come soon enough.


"It was food poisoning," his voicemail message explained to me the next day. After some silence, he added, "The fish." More silence. "Sorry." He left this message the following day, around 2:00 p.m. I had slept until Noon, and, thank God, he was gone when I woke up. How do you face that? He never called me again. I never called him.


I definitely learned two valuable lessons that night:


1) Never have anal sex after a sea food dinner.
2) Be careful what you wish for.


There's only one other experience in my life that entered into the "Even the Devil would feel sympathetic" category, and frankly I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell that story.


[No accounts or data were harmed in the making of this owning. Privileges were not abused to read anything private. It was just for sport. Actually that is a lie, I tried to make rage2 ban himself, but it didn't work. I just had to check!]

[MusicalGenius]

Re: lolz

W.o.w.

[VW337]

Re: lolz

A friend of mine discovered a sql injection exploit on beyond's server. He didn't want to do anything horrible, but just wanted to make rage laugh. So he copy and pasted that post AS rage2. They've been trying to figure out how he did it and where the vulnerability is.

A "friend" of yours huh? Does his name start with a D and end with a J?

[VwSweetHeart]

Re: lolz

lmfao!!! wow!!!

[longsock]

Re: lolz

umm, wtf! lol

[Slamtastic]

Re: lolz

Hahaha that's hilarious. People that are very good at creative writing really amaze me.