Warning

 

Close

Confirm Action

Are you sure you wish to do this?

Confirm Cancel
Member Login
Posted: 4/23/2002 10:45:34 AM EDT
Stolen from ConsumptionJunction.com: "Let not the waterflood overflow me, neither let the deep swallow me up, and let not the pit shut her mouth upon me." -- Psalms 69:15 "Oh, woe!" sing the angels up above, and "Whoa!" sings the burning in my loins, as the Heavenly Father summons another of his most beautiful creatures back unto the folds of His cosmic orgy. Last night, Linda Lovelace, star of the seminal 1972 hamspanker Deep Throat, passed away at Denver Health Medical Center due to complications suffered in an April 3rd car accident. Though past her prime and long-since retired by the dawning of my self-gratification era (an era which, by the way, is still in full-swing), Linda's untimely passing has weighed heavily on my heart nonetheless. A Newton to my Einstein, her pioneering efforts in the field of fellatiorial physics laid the groundwork for my theories in Astroglide/Kleenex relativity, and planted the seeds from which many a bright-eyed, young starlet would blossom to full-blown pornoslut. Purportedly an unwilling participant in her on-screen festivities, Linda claimed to have never made a cent off the estimated $600 million adult cinematic landmark, but I ask you: can one truly put a price tag on infamy? What's half a billion dollars really worth when compared to the billions, indeed trillions, of chromosome squid beached on old socks and crusty stag theater seats in recognition of your talents? To be immortalized next to G. Gordon Liddy in the annals of history (note how I chose the high-road, and avoided the obvious sexual pun) is an honor few can claim, but to be the gritty, flickering image looping in the back of every post-pubescent male's mind as he watches a woman eat a corndog, well, that's the stuff of legend, my friends. So, dear Linda, I wish you well on your future journeys as a spirit being, and bemoan never having experienced your physical being while it was still warm. Perchance, if I find my way to the pearly gates, we can rendezvous behind the parking lot and you can show me how you did that gag-suppression trick with John Holmes in scene 3 of Exotic French Fantasies. Godspeed and God bless, paul
Top Top