|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?
|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 ::
|26 Jun 2002||billy the freak||back when the mayan civilization flourished they had many traditions and rituals that were done thousands of years before this outstanding race even died out. one of them rituals was for aristocrat mothers to put flat stones on their newborns forehead. the reason they did this was to make thier child's forehead oblong and pointy. then they would hang shiney pieces of gold between the child's eyes, but not before they secured the head from moving. this would cause the child to focus on the piece of gold between it's eyes and go cross eyed. sounds weird, right. the mayan believed that it was sign of wealth and beauty, doctors today believe that this practice in many of cases probably caused brain disorder, go figure. i have no problems with the mayans, and i enjoy studying history, especially ancient civilizations. my only thing is if they wanted to have deformed cross eyed retards for kids, why didn't the expecting mother just smoke crack, i mean that works, right.|
|21 Jun 2002||billy the freak||okay, sorry it has been a while, but i just caught up with myself. the fucking pig company i worked for decided they no longer needed my services. so, i decided i needed a vacation. i went to a place called alcozan. no, that's not some place in the middle east, that is the state reality, or at least what you think is real when you drink and take zannies. well, i just got back, and i need to settle down, you know i would have stayed longer but the poppy ran short, and rent's due. i need a fucking job. i guess it's good to be back.|
|14 Jun 2002||arp henblast||heroin.
fresh heroin vs. 13 year old heroines.
|04 Jun 2002||billy the freak||don't you just hate it when the conductor of a speeding train sees you laying on the tracks in just enough time to slow down so that you don't get hit? next fucking time I am going to meet the bitch half way!|
|04 Jun 2002||billy the freak||my mind is a vacant lot. instead of asphalt i decided to put down gravel and broken beer bottles, that way if something does start running through my mind, hopefully it falls and gets a nasty scrape.|
|01 Jun 2002||billy the freak||i found myself in an odd position today, there was a man in my house, he was sitting on my couch . I didn't know who he was, how he got there, or how he died. Yeah man, there was a dead man on my couch! You ask what i did? Well, i did what any normal person would do: I ran his pockets, and get this, the stiff had eighty dollars on him! But anyway, I then decided to throw him out the third story window. That is because my flat was located on the first floor and I didn't think that it would make a big enough splat, you know... If you do something, make it dramatic. So, then i started pulling him up the steps of my apartment complex, his head made a thud against each concrete step that was so sickening. He was a heavy fucker so I had to take several breaks from the hard manual labor, you know... i made time for lemonade and to chat with my many neighbors in the complex. They all seemed to say the same thing about my situation: "you're dumping another body billy", "that is the third one this week". Sure if they got stuck hauling the bodies around they know I wouldn't poke fun. So finally i knocked on this girl's door, i used to fuck her all the time, but now only when one of us are desperate. She understood and let me and my friend in, though I did most of the talking. The window was my laundry chute of burden, soon would this nightmare be taken away. So I propped him up on the edge, and told him I loved him, then I sent him to the street. I didn't even take time to look at what was probably the most foul thing ever. Half of my day was already wasted and it is like what my neighbour said, that was the third body this week, and it's only tuesday.|
|28 May 2002||nobody||I know the dumbest, and this is from personal experience. First, you get a roll of duct tape. Then you tape over your mouth and nose. This is tricky, but be sure to get them completely covered. Then tape one wrist to a piece of furniture so you can't get it free. Be sure to leave a long strip of tape dangling off the roll. Then tape your other wrist to something so you can't move it either. Then wait about a minute before working your poorly taped wrist loose and ripping the tape off your face. Asphyxiation hurts like hell! (So does ripping duct tape off your skin.) Sit there, feeling like a bigger screw-up than ever. Wait about eight to ten years, and when your life starts to improve, be glad you were such a dumb kid.|