If I could just have 17,000 last wishes before I die, wish number 14 would be to visit the timeless death machine with my new friend cackling Kammy Harris and just after pushing her in I'd run like an African American as fast as I can.

Born in October 1956, Janet Aimee Stephenson started out as a model and actress before moving into film-making. Do you have the 1980 Roxy Music album 𝑭𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 in your collection? The nearer of the two girls is Aimee Stephenson. In the 1980's Aimee and her boyfriend Tim Jackson (producer of Dead Dog Blues) worked in the States on some Roger Corman productions although I don’t know which ones. In 1991 they teamed up with a guy called Sean Manchester who had written a non-fiction book about the so-called "Highgate Vampire." The plan was to make a documentary, and possibly a narrative feature film, about the subject but it never came to anything for various reasons.

In 2001 Aimee and Tim were in Peru, researching a book. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗱. 𝗔𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗿𝘂𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝟰𝟴% 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲, 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀, 𝗹𝗲𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗼. 𝗧𝗶𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝟭𝟳 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱. 𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗺𝗯𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘂𝘃𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘂𝘃𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲. 𝗔 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗺𝗯𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗼𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗮 𝗵𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹. 𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲, 𝗔𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 (𝘃𝗶𝗮 𝗦𝘄𝗶𝘁𝘇𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱) 𝘁𝗼 𝗦𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗯𝘂𝗿𝘆 – 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆. I can’t imagine the pain she must have gone through, or what Tim Jackson and her other friends and family must have suffered watching her agony.

- Posted by M.J. Simpson

Together we experienced so much happiness on our trips to Scranton to see the Joe Biden Museum where dreams come true. You were so funny when you imitated old Joe. I almost skipped the last trip because I had diarrhea.

I knew you before the exploratory surgery that you had 5 years ago in Lichenstein when your rib cracked after the train hit you hard head-on. I thought you were dead till I saw your large ***** move ever so slightly like a small dog on a train or under a larger dog.

The violence of your violent behavior makes me puke like a woman on puke-friendly drugs. I can't believe anything you say, especially when you're violent. I saw you hitting someone with a baseball bat in the head at the concert for violent people. I was shocked!

And so we convinced our parents to loan us, for a week, the 67 million dollars that would seal the deal. By Friday I was worried a lot because I only had 50 million left and I couldn't find my Harley keys. Bob stopped by to show us where his toes had been torn off by a walrus and he was nice enough to give me 32 million bucks from his walrus-poisoning account. "Pay it back whenever," he said while limping away.

You took my Toyota apart and then you refused to put it back together again and then you punched my sister so hard that her ****** toes curled up, but I still love you a billion times more than hyper-fat girls love themselves for some mystically-mysterious reason that only God could figure out even though it would take Him 6 months to do so.

CRAZY TAMMY CHEATS ON GORDON
"Oh Gordon," Tammy began, "I thought you were deeply in love with me? The way you painted my house; lifted my fat sister high above your head; punched my mother to make her stop breathing and then punched her again to make her start."
   Gordon looked astonished and amazingly **** with his long ***** and urbane mannerisms. "I'm going away Tammy to a *****-shortening clinic in another country."
   "Oh no Gordy! Please don't have your ***** shortened! I love it so much. It brings such comfort to me," Tammy sobbed while her medium-big ******* hardened like crazy.
   "Listen Tammy: my ***** is too long. Admit it. Two weeks ago a woman with a hairy crotch threatened me with birth-control pills for ten minutes. Ten minutes!"
   Tammy turned away ashamed. "That was me Gordy. I was wearing a fake crotch wig to fool you."
   Gordon chuckled at that. "Here," he said while offering his ***** to her selflessly, "take my *****. Grip it firmly. I promise that I won't have it shortened."
   That August Tammy had a baby who was so black that Gordon suspected that she'd been ******* Negroes and he was right.

The thirteenth greatest idea ever in modern tattoo history is eye-ball tattooing!

Your tattoos show people that you are tattooed.

It's cheaper, and less painful, to have your tattoos moved rather than removed. I had 7 inner thigh tattoos moved to my *** and I've never looked back.

January 14th is Brothers' Day, a day to celebrate brotherhood with your brother, but since I only have a half-brother (same mother, different father) we can only celebrate for 12 hours.

Today I scrubbed bird **** off my windshield, tomorrow I've got experimental, post-mortem brain surgery to perform on my uncle.

Throughout the series Joe Mannix was shot a dozen times and knocked out 55 times.

I want to scarf ripe bananas before driving to Negara with the sexiest chick in Jembrana.

Live life to the fullest by saying "Good-bye!" to high car-insurance payments and "Hello" to disease-free prostitutes. Say "*******!" to one-armed prostitutes and "Go to hell!" to Walmart garden department assistant managers. Scream "I love you Queen Liz!" even though she's dead and "I hate you King Bucky!" to buck-toothed Chucky while you dine like a pasha: ******* back brandy & wine; hiding in a rickety shed slapped together with pine.

"But why are you crying?" The dentist asked Tammy. "Because, you filthy son-of-a *****, the laughing-gas you gave me is fake!" She exclaimed loud enough to make another dentist fall off the toilet with a loud crash. "Jesus God!" The hygienist screamed because she was religious: "Another dentist has fallen off the toilet again!"

Jesus! How Paris has changed since my childhood! I fondly remember accompanying Father to the rabbit presser to have oil squeezed from our bunnies. Oh the squeals they'd make! 100 bunnies rendered seven imperial gallons of top-quality lepus (rabbit) oil. Papa would always relent and allow sister & I to rub rabbit oil on each other's rabbit pouches. What great fun that was! "Well kiddies," he'd say in his grand French manner, "Mama will surely burn your toes off for rubbing each other's throbbing pockets with bunny oil!' We'd all fall down in hysterics at that and then roll into the nearest open sewer and drown.

N.W.O.-owned corporations promote the freshest of youthful faces
having Hillary F. Clinton lesbian relations in crowded public places
Moral citizens must subdue these shrub-scouts with military maces
then bind them together with cheap lamp cord, twine & shoe laces,
before scrubbing the scene clean to obliterate all ****-diving traces
from mobs bleeding the white-funded black & sallow yellow races,
they take up  phony causes in nine of ten clinically-disproven cases
running Manchurian patsies & *** kittens through menticidal paces

On Mount Washington proto-Pittsburghers were drunk on Iron City Beer. Negroes laughed at them and made funny faces like they were in Africa. Rocks were thrown and windows were smashed into a million sherds. Large women who looked like Rosie O'Donnell knelt before a statue of Fred Pittsburgh (Pittsburgh's founder) and threw up slimy chunks of cottage cheese. It was sickening.