|Reading these suicide pages you will find people seeking help and people offering their help. Some witness about suicide from real life experience, others who play along with me would pretend it's a children's game. Some make sick and cruel jokes about it, and angry people blame me for even mentioning the subject. You might also want to read my favourite answers. If you want your answer to be included here, fill in the form.|
What is the best way to kill yourself when you're under 13?
Quelle est la meilleure forme de suicide pour les moins de 13 ans?
|26 Aug 2002||Lucy Cortina||Kelly you lil' puddin'... it's only a bit of fun my dear.
Have you ever fancied streaking in the rain, in one of the most crowded streets of London? Boobs bobbling, bottom wobbling in just your nik-nicks? It's fun, IT IS! It may bring a greater enhancement to your life.. similar to this site. Why do we come back, eh? If not only to try outdo each other..
Like everyone else, after coming here I go sit in the jacuzzi of my big country house in the middle of the English countryside. I might even have a sip of tea from my china cup.. or a french fancy, crumpet or scone. I might even have fish and chips when I'm slumming it. But I always come back here.
Call it a drug if you will. It certainly beats the competition known as chatrooms where they have such silly names, like Fanny's Yang, Auntie Hot, Hotboi 4 u etc. Here we like the simple life, with simple names. And I have my Billy... if not only for a little foreplay before going to the next naughty site.
Stay Kelly. This site is will be fun for you, if you let it.
|26 Aug 2002||Lara||I tried tylenol pm, 50 of them in fact, didn't do a damn thing, tried hanging myself, duzn't work, tried sitting out in the snow for hours, barely dressed, tried everything, the knife won't slit my throat, the razor won't slice my vein, all i want is a gun. but i wonder if the bullet will do anything...|
|24 Aug 2002||Lucy Cortina||That's ok Billy...so long as the wriggly diddly doesn't make a dirty squirty, it's abso-lutely-fine.
Tune in tomorrow for Lucy's great metaphorical big red bottom! Similar to a baboon, this indicates when the Lucy is 'in the mood'. And sometimes she...
oh, you'll just have to wait my dear!
Did you know that the black-widow spider can have multiple orgasms??
|24 Aug 2002||Lucy Cortina||I hate my nose. As it is so big, it means not only do I look like one of those clever people, who, incidentally have no mates, but also that I can smell things more than other people. Well, that's my theory. It's obvious - bigger the nose, greater the sense of smell, right? I wonder if lurker spots enhance or hinder this?
Anyway, I detect lots of smells. I can tell when my teacher has been eating garlic. However, he always stinks of garlic, like most teachers. I bet he's a vampire. The amount of homework he gives us is certainly evil.
Anyway, I always detect whiffs of stuff in my room. I suspect the cat has left a few smelly surprises, known as decomposed mice and birds for me. They say that in a cat's brain, they think giving dead mice to you is like a 'present'.
Anyway, to get rid of the unknown smell I've been spraying frantically deodorant everywhere. Now it stinks of a pine forest (eughh!) and I'm choking and wheezing to death.
That reminds me. What is the point of air freshener for toilets? For example, Pine Forest spray. You do your business in the toilet. Then you spray your little bottle, and voila! It smells of a pine forest. But then it just smells like you did your business in a pine forest!! What's the difference?!
Oh and Billy.. just ohh! You know what seeing you back does to me, don't ya, babe?
|23 Aug 2002||billy||the bitch would not shut up. i secretly wished larynx cancer on her. i am glad she is not psychic or she would have stabbed me by now. i remembered back to my days as a cub scout and one of the lessons they had tought me. friction... friction causes heat, and heat causes fire, i also remember how hard it it was to start that fire using two little sticks. they assured it could be done. i guess what i'm trying to say is, trying to get a word in now would be like rubbing two sticks together. hard as hell and if i was to succeed it would only start a fire. "i don't think this relationship is working out- blah blah yack yack! you don't even try to make things better- wha wha yack blah! you know it is hard for me to say this but, you know my mom is right!" what!? did she just say she agrees with her mother? the last time they agreed is when her mother said "why don't you run away with that tramp boyfriend". i happen to be that tramp boyfriend. at that time the pain stopped for her parents. the burning cancer like pain started for me... i'm a dope, a dope head, as matter of fact that's how we met, and come to think of it that is the only thing that keeps us together. " you make me sick- yip yip yip! the sight of you makes me want to fucking puke- arf bark growl!" (sounds like you are going through withdrawl bitch). she took a brief moment from her rants to take a breath, or to think of the next insulting thing she was going to say to me. either way i thought was my chance to rub two sticks together. i must have tried to speak too quick because all my words jammed into a ball in the front of my mouth. i spit them out onto the floor. (THUD) " you dumb ass, what the hell, you don't even make sense when you talk- blassy blassy blew blew!" i received my fire starting badge. (thank you scout leader). despite the aching in my arms and legs, i bent over to pick up my twisted jumble of speech. i proceeded to brush them off and stick them in my back pocket next to the stampers of heroin i just bought. i am a man of few words, i would save them for when i bring the bags out then she will be all ears like any smack fiend. "what are you doing you don't even listen when i talk, you son of a bitch- wassy wassy winkly woo! so who did you fuck last night?" okay time to change the subject "bitch! shut the hell up i'm sick of you fucking yelling at me, now do you want to do this dope or what?". her irate face and rigid body melted down to a shaking dirty dope whore. "you really got dope?" she asked in a whole different demeanor, the one i can deal with. "i wouldn't say it if i didn't mean it babe" i replied in the same manner. all of a sudden there was no signs of an argument, or no signs of one sided verbal abuse. i pulled the bags out along with what i was going to say before: "you need to stop yelling at me". however i said it in such a docile manner it didn't mean much, besides she was to busy masturbating the bags with her eyes. "you're going to have to spike me" she said in a tired voice. it was obvious, she trembled like a man on death row. in a series of wordless movements i tied her off and shot her up, after her body blissfully orgasmed she layed her head on my lap and started rubbing my knee. "i love you" she said. i didn't bother to answer untill i was done and feeling the same way. "i know" i replied.|
|16 Aug 2002||Lucy Cortina||Typical! I just get back from my holidays and everyone else has gone on them!
Oh well, at least I have 2 huge ballon things known as breasts to keep me company (have I mentioned this before? they're organically home-grown.. none of your Britney Silicones nonsense!)
I had an interesting experience yesterday though, which I will care to share:
I left a plum in school bag over holidays. Little flies kept emerging from little front pocket. Drew nearer and nearly collapsed cos of disgusting smell. Decided it was best to wash bag in bath. Did that. Bath full of bloody rotten plum pieces and little insects. Flushed them down the drain. Felt satisfied. A thought struck me. Looked into the small pocket of my bag. Let out a scream. Absolute disaster. My postcards were in it soaked with water (including one from a secret admirer)! What shall I do now? The evidence has vanished in the haze cos the ink has dissapeared! Bad luck!
And I'm slowly developing into a disturbed young woman...
|16 Aug 2002||Danny||I sometimes go for a long walk. You know. To find something. Not really sure what, and I never really find anything. But then that's life, isn't it?|
|12 Aug 2002||Lucy Cortina||YAY! What a joy to be home again! Oh wow..to the awful stench of the bore next door (neighbour) putting awful manure on his garden. Ughh. I wouldn't be surprised if it's his own manure too.
Is there such a thing as vegi-sexuals, do you reckon, Mouchie? If so then HE is one. He spends so much time amongst his cabbages that it's unreal, and probably illegal. He tends to them like a lover would her mans dinner. Why am I surrounded by les idiots?
A few weeks away from the likes of mum, and her abnormally large behind (she could send it off to Africa, I'm sure it'd keep the starving going for at least 12 months) and dad with his 'inventions', such as the spoon that times the egg (LONG STORY!). I suspect while I've been away he's been in my knicker drawer to feed his desire to be a woman.
Ok.. I'm getting a bit dried up now, ain't I?
The point I'm trying to make is that I'M BACK ..and ..um....
where is my Billy?
|01 Aug 2002||Verito||These are two different questions, aren't they? I will answer question #1: I think in the toy should be included a colorful plastic pill bottle (empty of course). A plastic razor blade. a rope made of paper. also some literature on suicide, why other people attempt it, how many attempts people usually make before they are successful, how people come to change their minds about killing themselves (all in age appropriate language, of course). This is a very interesting idea for a toy. I could see how it would inflame some people. I think it is still very interesting.|
|10 Jul 2002||billy||you know annette, being dead isn't very cool. killing yourself certainly doesn't make you popular. it doesn't make your parents love you anymore. it doesn't make that ex-boyfriend you thought you loved come back. it doesn't make anything better. you would probably get your name in the local paper under the obituaries. woop dee do. you wouldn't be alive to read it.
think about things that would make your life better. it does get better.
|09 Jul 2002||billy||i bet you are wondering why i stopped calling myself billy is a freak? well, it seems there is a group of people who decides if you're a freak or not. they call themselves the freak recruiting association or f.r.a. for short. so get this, three people show up at my door, well.. .four if you count the siamese twins. they flash these badges at me. "what the hell is going on?" i ask. i guess the bearded lady was the brains of the outfit because she did most of the talking. "let me explain ourselve: since freakshows have been banned from circuses and carnivals we have formed an association which only purpose is to preserve the traditional nature of freakhood." in compleate awe of the situation i let her continue. "it is to our understanding that you claim to be a freak mr. billy". she sounded like joe friday from dragnet. "why yes" i said confidently. her mustache curved with the contour of her lip. i believe she was smiling, i'm not sure. "may we please step in mr. billy? if you cooperate this will only take a moment of your time." she still had that nasty smile. "come on in. i have nothing to hide. i am just as much a freak as any of you." that was the wrong thing to say. the bearded lady was obviously offended by that statement." listen here buddy if you were half the freak i am, i was headlining barnum and bailey's sideshow when you were still a glimmer in you dad's whisky glass!" i shut up. "we put up surveillance cameras all around your house and office. there is no apparent freakyness. tiny here, she points to a 20 inch man who was standing next to a relatively normal looking man, has been hiding in your laundry basket in attempts to find any hidden oddities that might be under your clothes. he reports none". okay i thought. "mr. billy we have reason to believe you're not a freak at all, and to pose as one would be fraudulent and punishable by a 15,000 dollar fine and/or five years in prison by f.r.a. law. as a last attempt to defend myself i pointed to my two front teeth. "look i have a slight overbite and i am fifteen pounds over weight". all four of them laughed at me. "that is hardly enough to classify yourself as a freak" she said as she sat an official looking envelope on my coffee table. "we will show ourselves to the door, good day mr. billy". they then turned and left. first the bearded lady, then the siamese twins, then tiny, then finally the normal looking man who shut the door behind him. which was odd because he shut it with the extra appendage growing out the small of his back. the envelope the freaks left simply said in writing that i will stop referring to myself as a freak or i will pay the consequences. so thought about it. billy the freak is no more. billy the odd, no. billy the imperfect it just doesn't have the same ring. billy will suffice.
|09 Jul 2002||Madame Blousson||I came to this site so I could find peace,
but ever since that day I've become obese.
For I stay here all day, laughing all the way,
Mouchette - won't you service me?
|08 Jul 2002||Lucy Cortina||Billy, where are you? I need my weekly dose of counselling a la sarcasm. Shall I report my parents to the police? They'd be banged up for life for child cruelty if I did. My dad is at the moment singing "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII will always love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu" by Whitney Useless.
I could just about manage to find the strength to switch the PC on. I will now lie here, and die in pain in front of all of you.
(Britney Spears can have my breasts when I'm gone).
|07 Jul 2002||Lucy Cortina||Billy, I feel for you. My grandad has problems similar to yours. You know what they say... loose lips sink ships, and loose bowels.. er.. scare owls? I dunno. I recommend some Immodium Plus, mixed with salt and milk.|
|06 Jul 2002||Lucy Cortina||I would just like to declare that my nunga-nungas are at bursting point. What shall I do? I've snapped 4 bras already. My sister now uses them as tents for her dolls. I can't afford a reduction. When I'm doing exercises they swing about so much! At this rate I'm going to knock someobody unconscious. At this rate I'm going to need 2 shopping bags for my breasts!
If Shitney Spears ever wants a bit of a REAL woman, she could certainly have my breasts.
Any help would be much appreciated - and I am v. willing to appear on any big-boob fetish websites.
|03 Jul 2002||Lucy Cortina||Billy babe, I've hardly no time to be here. I've been subjected to a mum making me go for rides in the country, claiming "it'll do you good!" God knows how being seen in public with your parents will "do you good". It's torture. Death by boredom, not recommended for squeamish folks.
I read in the paper this week that Britney Spears is getting "fat". What, like she stuffed her face with a bowl of lettuce and ate 2 grapes instead of 1? I don't think so... If Britney is fat, then what are the rest of us?
|03 Jul 2002||billy||cigarettes are going up one dollar in tax this sunday that makes them almost five dollars in my area and more in others. many of the people who smoke and like to bitch about things claim they are going to quit. too bad they are hopelessly addicted. i think i am going to buy stock in nicontrol. that way i can afford to keep smoking.|
|02 Jul 2002||billy weepingfreak||this is billy: my goal today is to kill lucy cortina with kindness. please you ample breasted sex god, i need you to be here, you give me inspiration, motivation, and aggravation. all three of these things are great, therefore you are great. i am sure mouchette misses you, i miss your snotty british humor, so come back , @>-}-----|
|02 Jul 2002||billy|| in the united states we have a holiday called independance day. in 1776 we declared ourselves as an independant country, no longer to be subject to the tyranny and religious oppression of king george the 3rd. we were finally free to govern ourselves (but not without a shit load of blood shed). this is a monumental point in history and and has shaped this very nation.
this is a time to celebrate. a time to jump up and say "i am proud to be a red blooded, white skinned american" as you hand the fifty bucks you were going send to the 9-11 fund over to a greasy mexican selling fire works out of his van. this is a time to get drunk and beat your wife and kids in the privacy of your own home. this is a time to find any reason to start a fight with that man you know from india. it is a time to eat red, white, and blue candy sprinkles of your cone as you watch a fireworks display from the downtown stadium. this is a time you should not bother thinking about the suffering in other countries. this is a time you should lay your head on your comfortable pillow and go to sleep in a world you feel is safe.
|28 Jun 2002||billy the freak||lucy is a transexual. mouchette is a website. billy is a freak. it all goes together perfectly. like the pieces of a puzzle, an extremely complex one at that. so, today rain has brought a good break for me. i decided to sit on my front porch and and feel the cool misty air on my face. (as i have expressed in earlier posts i hate the sun) it felt envigorating! my face, arms and feet were tingling in a natural sort of way, i decided to strip down to my keks and prance around, i felt so very free. i was in the back yard dancing in my boxers, having the time of my life. then bridget came. she had a tomato soup can in her hand and a smile on her face. " what are you doing billy" she said in a half controled half chuckling voice. "what does it look like, bridget" i replied sarcasticly. i love bridget, i want bridget, i will never have bridget. " it looks like you're dancing in your underwear, i came down here to see if you wanted to play kick the can, but since you are busy i will go down to bennet's house" she started to walk slowly away, i know she wanted me to say something, so i did " hey bridget i will play with you but we need more people, and we need to play by my rules". i had the widest grin, i looked like cheshire cat. no sooner then me saying that she pulled off her sun dress and joined the party. her radient beauty excited me, but i kept it under control. i was proud of myself. she ran into my house and called her sister and a couple of her friends. it became a big underwear party, soon people joined in off the street. so we laughed and played kick the can and limbo, all in our underwear. somebody started to pass around a couple joints and all went crazy. pot must be some kind of aphrodisiac. so party moved inside and became an orgy. it is going on as i type this. i don't get into all that. bridget is right here looking through my sketch pad. she is asking me very nicely to come sit on the bed with her. maybe i will get lucky tonight, cross your toes for me. everybody, it is time to go home, find your clothes and get out.
:: REMEMBER KIDS WHEN HAVING GROUP SEX USE A DIFFERENT CONDOM FOR EACH PARTNER MALE OR FEMALE ::