favorite fucking letter

[Crillz]

C C C cuz that's that crillz bitch

[denimdestroyedmylife]

x is my latest

__________

[lawless]

is nigger a letter

i miss u like i miss dj screw

[alexryb]

the letter x

[kaws&effect]

as in...Greatest Of All Time

[amardeep]

i was gonna say o but then i realized that b has a handle and it'd probably be easier to fuck with a handle

[ROYALEFATALE]

[Oxy.]

j for noodz

[DüM]

my middle name is just the letter Z. I just realized I voted for it twice.

[blm14]

I like these three

whoa, how about this one

I'm Not Gay or Anything, I Just Want to Stick My Penis in a Freshly Skinned Human Skull

By Vince Ynzunza

A vanquished foe deserves humiliation; emasculating, degrading, perverse humiliation. His defeat cannot only be a mandate on his status as an inferior opponent but it must be an indictment on his very memory; a desecration of everything that is 'him'. As the victor, it is not only a privilege but a duty. To you come the spoils; do not spoil it but savor it. Unsheathe your hunting knife, grab him by the back of his hair, remove the skin from his head, unzip your trousers and fuck him in the skull. I prefer the eye socket; it's an untraditional sexual cavity whose potential lies solely in the realm of victory and revenge. As I listen to the pulsating squishes and pops of his eyeball against my throbbing purple head, the world around me seems to disappear. Everything seems right. I discharge my load into his bleeding cranium and I let out a primal war cry; the uncivil, the untamed avenues of my brain are in complete control, they are vocal. I drop his head onto the ground and I feel a serene spark course throughout my lithe, post-coital body. I reach for my cell phone and inform Mother that I will be home in 30 minutes with the milk.

Who would you 'skull fuck' if you had the chance? I have a long list of enemies. Some of them may not be fully aware of my intentions but the distance between ignorance and awareness is only a matter of time. Sometimes I fantasize about my 'victory sex', I fantasize about waiting for Carlos Santana outside of his dressing room at the Tonight Show; I'd be wearing the uniform belonging to a deceased and previously 'skull-fucked' intern, Carlos would emerge rested and ready for his performance and I would approach him. "Excuse me, Mr. Santana. We have a few last minute changes…" His tiny body would collapse pathetically as I shove my chloroform rag around his nose, tightening my grip exponentially with every ounce of struggle that he musters. Minutes later, I would be fucking his goddamn skull. Sometimes, I imagine that I'm a time traveler. I would travel back to India in the 1940's and would seek gainful employment under the tutelage of Mahatma Ghandi. He would come to trust me and would consider me his equal. We would sit together until the early dawn, discussing non-violent resistance and self-sufficient residential communities. One day he would turn his back on me. Moments later, I would be fucking Ghandi's skull.

I am often considered a wise man. Through my words, I am expected to impart a special brand of wisdom. And why stop now? The valiant, noble heroes that you have ensconced in marble are but paltry and pathetic whispers of an age long passed. Mercy is for faggots. Humiliation is for winners. I will insert my penis into the freshly skinned skull of every miscreant and enemy that dares cross my path. And if you try to stop me, then I will unsheathe my hunting knife, I will grab you by the back of your hair, I will remove the skin from your head, I will unzip my trousers and I will fuck you in the skull.

from: http://blogs.myspace.com/vinceverbatim