Date	Name/email Nom/email	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?
18 Feb 2005	Jason	What's the big deal? It's just death. Nothing hard nore complex. It's a fact of life. The weak die and the strong live. If you really can't take it maybe you don't deserve to live. I mean breathing, sleeping, and eating are easy. That's the basis of living. But it's not all there is to it. And that's the hard part. Death is just a release from struggles. Nothing else. It can be up to you or it may not be. But if you are going to do it go some place where you won't get caught or stopped. And make sure it's a fail safe way. And always remember the devil still wants you. Burning in hell for all eternity that is. And also remember that the people that pushed you to this will end up there as well so you won't be apart for long. You make your own choices! Don't let others make them for you! There are right and wrong reasons to die. It's up to you to decide the difference. But with either choice make sure to put your whole heart into it. Half assing it won't work here. It's your life and your choice to live it or end it. NO one elses. Choose well my friends. Choose well. Godspeed.
31 Jan 2005	Lucy Cortina	Last time I left you all gasping in shock at the thought of me being carried away by the police, boobies bare and swinging. However it didn't end quite like that. After the woman shouted "call the police!" I panicked. I couldn't have my boobs boobhandled by the police!! I've heard what happens in prison, they take away your bra so you can't hang yourself with it. As if I would commit breasticide again! It caused me enough trouble the last time I did it. Anyway I panicked and looked around for an escape exit. There was a gap in-between two wobblers (fat women) which was my best bet. God help me if I should become squashed between them. I ran towards them, and a look of pure terror appeared on their over-sized faces. They tried to duck but it was too late - I was running at them with such force that my boobs sort of flapped out to the sides (almost like boobie-shaped wings) and hit them with such force that they were sent flying. They landed on their backs and because of their size, couldn't get up again. I kept on running. My boobs were swinging about as I ran, it was actually very hard to run because of the weight of them. I managed to find a hiding spot in the park, and as it was dry, I sat down. I noticed that my boobs were sort of shrinking in size, very slowly, but they were shrinking. What on earth is wrong with them?! They expand when I'm in public yet they shrink when I'm in private. I have a pair of exhibitionist breasts! Luckily I had a new pink top packed in my bag, so I took it out and put it on. Very sexy. I went home and lay in my bed to cleanse myself of the shame of what had happened that day. I was woken the next day by my sister jumping on my bed, singing "Boobie girl boobie girl, I'm a boobie girl, in a boobie world!" For the sake of Albert's pickled brain I'm sick of hearing about boobies! I went downstairs and asked mum what was up with my sister. "Oh haven't you heard?" she said. "A girl with enormous hooters killed a pigeon and then attacked two women last night near the park. It was in the newspaper this morning". OH NOOO OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOOO.....!!!
27 Jan 2005	REDDEATH	Nîn awr sa a’ xun ten’ mi a’ san Amin menr a’ fianwa Eller sa n’uma’nat hyari ten’ mi Cael da coia
25 Jan 2005	i hate france	IT JUST DAWNED ON ME THAT TECHNOLOGY IS NOT AS ADVANCED AS IT COULD BE. FOR INSTANCE, THE SOUND THAT MY BUTTCHEECKS JUST MADE AS HOT GASSES PASSED THRU THEM CAN NOT BE EXPRESSED THRU THIS COMPUTER. NOW WHILE YOU ARE THRILLED THAT THE COMPUTERS CANNOT DO THIS I AM DISPLEASED. CAN YOU IMAGINE THE MAYHAM IF EVERYONE COULD SEND AN EMAIL THAT WHEN YOU OPENED IT UP WAS A FART. IT WOULD BE ON THE NEWS. TONIGHT AT TEN.... A NEW TECHNOLOGY HAS ENABLED PEOPLE TO SEND FARTS IN AN EMAIL. IT HAS TURNED OUT TO BE A NEW EPIDEMIC OF INTERNET TERRORISM. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION OF THE WHEREABOUTS OF THESE TERRORISTS PLEASE CALL YOUR LOCAL FBI HOTLINE. DO NOT TRY TO APPROACH THESE TERRORISTS BECAUSE IT IS SAID THAT THEY ARE DANGEROUS AND HAVE BIOLOGICAL AND CHEMICAL WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION AND THEY HAD BEANS FOR SUPPER LAST NITE. HERES BOB FRENCH WITH THE WEATHER....
23 Jan 2005	Lucy Cortina	The other day I killed a pigeon with my boobies. Allow me to explain: Since my bra collection is now missing, I have been using a makeshift bra - the largest one I could find. And I bought it from one of those shops "for the larger person". As I walked in, the "larger" people stared at me like I was some freak. Well I suppose being as slim as I am I did look out of place there. I pointed at my boobs, then everyone seemed to instantly understand why I was there, and that I was "one of them", at least in the boobie department. All the women turned and carried on looking at the tent-sized negligés, underwear and so on, whilst the men were still oogling at my boobies. I remained dignified by looking at the bra section with my nose stuck up in the air. It didn't last long though as I was having trouble seeing the bras, which is saying something as they were enormous. I chose the largest size there, a huge pink bra with extra-strong straps on it made out of leather. I fully knew that it would never contain my breasts should they expand, but this was the best I would find at such short notice. After wearing my new bra for about 10 minutes (I put it on in the public toilets, a woman walked in on me and immediately ran out screaming) my boobs were starting to feel sweaty and the bra straps were creaking under the enormous strain. "Not in public!" I thought. I knew what was about to happen so I panicked. There were people everywhere except a patch of grass where some pigeons were feeding. I swung my whole body around so my boobs were facing them, at which point my bra straps snapped. My boobs shot out of my top at practically light speed, which was when everything went into one of those "slow motion" freeze-frame things you see in movies. My boobs were hurtling towards the pigeons, I screamed "Nooo ooh ooho oooo" in one of those distorted slow-motion voices, and the pigeons all took flight. Except one. My boobs hit the pigeon before it even had chance to look up. It was of course crushed on the spot. Seeing my boobs squishing against the pigeon was horrific. At least it died happy. But I wasn't happy. "Help me! Help meeeeeeee! There's dead pigeon stuck to my boobs! Get it off! Get it off!!!" I swung my boobs around and around frantically trying to shake off the feathers and blood and dead pigeon covering my boobs. A clump of tail feathers and blood flew off me and hit a woman on her bum, but she thought her boyfriend had pinched it and hugged him. Everyone was staring at me and one woman shouted "CALL THE POLICE!!" To be continued..............
19 Jan 2005	Lucy Cortina	Well really Felicia! At this rate I shall have no bras left. I would go Bra Shopping but they don't stock them in XXXXXXXXXL sizes. My bra collection was custom-made which is why I need it back so urgently. Mouchette I swear that if you snap any of them for sexual pleasure I will personally use them to strangle you with, assuming you are the culprit of course. At the moment I am, as you may have guessed, braless. So my boobs just hang under my [very]low-cut pink top, with no support at all. I have had a few men in cars hooting at my hooters, which disturbs me because I am far too sophisticated for them. Felicia (how are you darling by the way?) you had better come up with a replacement for the damaged goods (I mean bras) otherwise I will tar you with the same spanking brush as Mouchette. Now just you think about that.
19 Jan 2005	Felicia NOT so Great	Dear Lucy Cortina, Today I shaved a dog. The hair got in my bra; as a result I ended up with a hairy chest. It was a fur bearing Chow (mean little runt) and a decrepit Maltese, and a disgruntled Yorkie, who did me injustice today. I shaved a Yorkshire Terrier too short and a customer replied, Alas! I will never come here again!" As I said "Sorry" over and over again, my world of self-destructiveness came to no end. The smell of wet dog lingers in my dungaroos. Save me Lucy!! A dog just mauled your rubber gift. I no longer have a pair of them anymore. ...For there is only one.
17 Jan 2005	Lucy Cortina	Alert! Alert! My secret bra collection has been stolen! After checking the top-secret nuclear Bra Bunker where agent Danny stashed them, I discovered that they have all been pilfered. Now that is surely [cryogenic] grave-robbing at its sexiest? Perhaps they imagined that Lucy Cortina, moi, was an Egyptian Queen-turned-goddess and that my bras were special. Yes that will be it. Agent Danny had hidden them before I was frozen so that the mad Dr Philville wouldn't find them and sell them to Mouchette. But I fear that Mouchette did some detective work and discovered them all by himself. Mouchette is now number one suspect in this case... I do know the location of the Inflatable variety - darling Felicia borrowed them in a fit of lesbianism - but the leather, PVC, silk, gold, strapless, frontless and frillyness varieties have all gone. There was a dirty looking white bra in the bunker but such a bra wouldn't be seen on my boobs even if they were dead (which isn't that unlikely). WHO STOLE THEM??? I need them to be found ASAP. There were many sizes of bras to fulfill the needs of my very demanding boobs, but now with the recently diagnosed BreastInflating illness that I have, normal bras can no longer contain them (as if they did before). I do hope this mystery will be solved soon, otherwise I will have to file a Boobsuit against Mouchette. It really is le grand mystére de les pantaloons... *Note: I speak in French every now and then only to satisfy my French Fans*
05 Jan 2005	Lucy Cortina	UPDATE ON MEEEE: My breasts are very unstable and keep inflating and deflating. There doesn't seem to be a cure. My previous pair tragically died and departed to the Great Boobie Heaven, they're probably sat in a prayer circle wearing silk bras and chanting as we speak. I am told that I was frozen on Mount Booby and have been recently revived. Apparently I am still the same age as I was when I was frozen, yet everyone else has gotten older. That is actually true as my little sister is now into boys and brings them home to do "kissy poos" as she calls them. She puckers up her lips like a vacuum cleaner, and kisses the boys with an evil glint in her eyes, almost as if she's sucking out their souls. The poor boys have to be pulled off her in the end and we never see them again. My sister then moves onto her next victim. I still have spots, even being frozen for over a year couldn't get rid of them. I think it's about time I put an end to this nonsense and booked myself into an Ugly Hospital (which is probably run by Ugly Nurses. I hope it isn't contagious!) Mouchette, as you already know, SSSS can no longer deliver me to you. I'm done with the SSSS, just look what trouble they have caused me. I'm now considering new career options, I've had a lot of offers after the publicity from being found on Mount Booby (which, unbelievably, looks even larger than both of my boobs morphed into one when they are fully expanded (imagine that!)) I am considering offers of doing a special weekly edition of "Boobie News" for the BBBC (British Boobie Broadcasting Co-operation), so watch this space.
03 Jan 2005	Buck	-And I am starting to come down -And the grim reaper causally says “Anytime you are ready” -And I feel like sludgy snow stained brown because of the smog -And my will to live has reached a level best described as “ehhh, whatever” -there is nothing to be learned here and I gain only a little comfort by the hollow warmth. -I am a kid on halloween eating too much candy and guilty and getting sick, -I am the little innocent told to go away because new people cannot learn to play the castle game -And I am a little kid buried under books and cold people and words. -The Grateful Dead is on and using drugs to try and force the will to live only works for so long. (- for where the new lines really should be)
02 Jan 2005	Lucy Cortina	Hellooosh everyone helloosh Mouchettie it's new years eve and Ive had a little drinkie-poo, yes I have. At least it was new years eve when I had my first drinkie-poo. Oh Im so glad to be back again, where is my Felicia? And my Billy? I didnt mean to slice off his sausage meat. I have so much to tell you all because Ive been to the afterlife and Ive experienced my boobies expand to boobnormous heights. I should go nowsh theres a policeman staring at me through the window. I did have my breasts presshed against the window earlier and they left a sort of patch of condensation where they were. I didnt realise that was illegal though.
01 Jan 2005	fghj	Employ an editor who will allow your English grammer to be better than laughable. Good Luck
27 Dec 2004	Stéphane Jacquemain	L'ACCIDENT GRAVE DE VOYAGEURS (A Song In French) ===================================== J’étais debout sur le quai du métropolitain Pressé comm’ chaque soir de regagner Pantin Quand un appel retentit, émanant des haut-parleurs Suite à un accident grave de voyageurs Trafic interrompu direction Bobigny Ainsi qu’en direction de Place d’Italie Aïe aïe aïe ai-je gémi, ça ne me dit rien qui vaille Quelque désespéré se s’ra jeté sur les rails Il me faudra patienter, moi qui me sens éreinté Puis regagner mes pénat’s dans une rame bondée Et c’est ainsi qu’excédé par une telle misère Je lance ce vibrant appel humanitaire Montrez-vous compréhensifs à l’égard des voyageurs Dépressifs suicidez-vous ailleurs Je comprends bien vos motifs, compatis à vos douleurs Mais dépressifs suicidez-vous ailleurs Les raisons sont abondant’s, j’en ai pleinement conscience De vouloir en finir avec cette existence Oui nous devons soutenir, dès le petit matin blême La vue des SDF exclus par le système Endurer le voyeurisme et la perversion soft D’un peuple béat devant le bétail d’un loft Souffrir sans mot murmurer, dans les cafés, les propos Des lecteurs de l’Equipe et joueurs de Rapido Comm’si c’la n’était pas trop, supporter les mélopées De Pascal Obispo dans les supermarchés Mais vous faut-il pour autant aller encombrer les rails Quand le pauvre prolo s’en revient du travail Montrez-vous compréhensifs à l’égard des voyageurs Dépressifs suicidez-vous ailleurs Je comprends bien vos motifs mais vos méthodes m’écoeurent Dépressifs suicidez-vous ailleurs Il est bien d’autres moyens, plus civiqu’s et naturels De faire ses adieux à ce monde cruel Chanter du Patricia Kaas à un pit-bull enragé Déclamer du Salman Rushdie à la mosquée Rôder sans préservatif le soir au Bois de Boulogne Jouer au petit Grégory dans la Vologne Ce ne sont que suggestions : imaginez, innovez Le métro est banal – et quid des usagers Du technicien de surface maigrement payé par La Comatec pour ramasser vos restes épars Et si votre choix est fait, qu’au moins ces vers vous convainquent De ne point s’il vous plaît opter pour la lign’ 5 Montrez-vous compréhensifs à l’égard des voyageurs Dépressifs suicidez-vous ailleurs Je comprends bien vos motifs, mais comprenez mon aigreur Dépressifs suicidez-vous ailleurs... © Stéphane Jacquemain, 2003 Tous droits réservés dépôt Snac sjacquemain@hotmail.com
20 Dec 2004	President Bobo of the SSSS agency	Lucy Cortina has now been successfully revived and is in full working order. Her boobs are now stable, after going through a process of inflation and deflation. Our team of specialist doctors spent many weeks pumping out the air from her breasts. Once the air was gone they would fill up again and inflate to bursting point. Imagine the scene: Lucy Cortina topless on a hospital bed surrounded by nurses, with enormous breasts the size of 2 large beanbags. In the end we managed to force the air out by strapping her breasts against her chest very tightly with a tight black PVC bra when the air had been pumped out. We believe Lucy Cortina suffers from a breast abnormality that encourages her breasts to fill with air and then release it again, almost as if they are breathing. We have heard rumours that her breasts may actually be alive in themselves, and that her current boobs are actually a new pair of tits that have been reborn, after her previous knockers departed to The Great Boobie Heaven (where they say that boobies fly around and squish against other passing boobies, whilst men observe them). We have also sewn on some new nipples for Lucy as the caps from the cola bottles that we used as temporary nipples shot off her boobs during a "nurse! theyre about to burst!" episode. It looked like 2 corks flying off enormous barrel shaped wine bottles. It was actually this that enabled us to force the air from her breasts once and for all. She is still slightly confused and dazed but has been calling out for "my Billy!" quite regularly, sadly we do not know who she means. If anyone can help us, please do let us know. We shall keep you informed of her progress and hopefully she may even give you a little visit. But don't expect too much, her breasts are still undergoing tests as they still inflate quite a lot sometimes - we think this may be a permanent 'illness' that is only found in very beautiful women.
13 Dec 2004	You Have No Friends Because You Suck	A deep red is illuminated by the eerie blue glow of a light far into the absence of negative space. Falling into old habits, the dreamer is screwing the finger into the temple. Never was always so blank with deception. A Technicolor spotlight shines on the skin of the tan- line. Broken into two equally undeserving portions of one failed memory, the tears fall, staining the translucent skylight. A spiral overcomes equilibrium, stealing the show and breaking concentration. Existence is now no more than a windmill of shortcomings and shattered thought. Falling towards the open arms of no one, tearing down the walls with unbearable laughter. This time will be different. This will end the tragic tale of the unloved poet, the mislead dreamer, the thought of a life worth living. -me
01 Dec 2004	Piroko	Hello, all. I have a deeply important question to ask. A) Lucy, I am an A cup. My greatest hope is to be a B. Though your boobs have died in a horribly tragic manner, perhaps they were Organ and Tissue donors? That way they could do the world good for many long years after they have departed to the Great Boobie Heaven. I'd be very happy if you could contact me on your boobies donor status. 2) Hello, all.
29 Nov 2004	Garry	I would like for all of you to do yourselves a favor, which requires you, on the 14th of December, 2004, (at the strike of 12AM) to walk over to the nearest unobstructed window (or go outdoors) and take a minute to stare up at the lonesome moon. This lonely, but defiant object in the far away skies symbolizes the masses, full of deep seeded wounds. Sometimes the clouds of the world block its illuminating reflection, hindering its progression into the next phase of righteous life. That moon, much like yourself, is resilient, in that, it arrives unwillingly at the darkest points of a day; but yet proudly coasts with the flow of its placement. This moon, bares resemblance, in that, it had not been asked by its predecessors to be a part of this unpredictable and demanding universe; but yet it works regardless of its personal conflicts to ensure the world knows its still alive. Sometimes a disturbing and pesturing cloud or two obstructs the desperation of the moon's arrival; but if you concentrate and glance past all the impeding superficial clouds of conflict, you may find a perspective of the moon that could, quite possibly, set your mind at bliss and widen the imagination of possibility. Look up at this resilient moon of yours and you may find a PEACE of yourself lying within the desperate, strong hearts of someone else. Whisper a breath of positive energy to a soul who may relate to your situation. Find hope within yourself and spread it to a deserving neighbor. Wake up and look out a different window.
22 Nov 2004	Brett	It depends on how you want to be found. No loved ones? Then it doesn't fucking matter; just get a gun (shotgun or large calibre pistol--.38, .45, .44, 9mm, etc,)and blow your brains out. Mash the barrel closely to your temple, or better yet, stick it in your mouth, pointed up. But that's going to leave a big mess. If you have loved ones that you care about, do it in the bathtub and call 911 (if American) first. Tell them where you live and there's a suicide, so come prepared. Then hopefully it's all cleaned up before any people you care for have to see. Or, pills. Pills and booze. This is great, especially if you're known to have a drug problem. You eat about 500 mgs. of valium, say, and drink a litre of vodka, put on some good music (joy division) and no one knows if you meant to kick off or were just overdoing a good thing. Also, you could go with carbon monoxide. If you have a garage, perfect, but if not just rig a hose from the exhaust pipe into the car, pop some pills, drink some booze, play some tunes, sayonara. More elaborately, you could stage it to look like you've been murdered, etc. I would say that if you really want to kill yourself, you probably should try to make it look like an accident. Maybe not if you've been horribly abused by your parents, etc., MAYBE, but this is something very important to consider. Do you want to really want to die, or do you just want people to feel bad for what they did to you? Because, sweetheart, once you draw that final breath, you're not going to be there to witness anyone's reaction. So my final advice is this: if you want to stage some grand Shakesperaean scene for everyone to weep over and lament how poorly they treated you, then you're killing yourself for all the wrong reasons. You should back off and live it out a while, let life unfold and see what happens. It might get better. Honey, please believe me, it often does. If you really want to die, though, then you shouldn't care to make anyone feel responsible. That's kind of lame when you think about it. They'll inhabit their own hell eventually; making it look like an accident is the most righteous thing you can do. Please think carefully about this! I slit my wrists when I was seventeen; things still suck, but I'm happy I didn't die then. I'm not the one to tell you do or don't, only please think about your reasons, other possible outcomes, and the people you will leave behind. I don't know for certain that I won't do myself, eventually, so I'm not some holy roller. But if you're reading this, and if you're in the dark space for real, then know I love you. I don't know Mouchette, but I grant her permission to give you my email. It's a shit world, yes, but it really can be beautiful. I'm not preaching; do what you need to do. But go easy, brothers and sisters. Think and go easy. Mouchette, thank you for the forum. You should come and live with me; hell, we shouuld all get together and create some other world that we can live in, together. Peace and stars, and go easy. Please. - Brett
05 Nov 2004	Antagonist AKA a bunch of different people	Shelby!!!! You are too irresistable. Righteous asses eh? Eh?? Eh????? The only righteous ass I see around here is you, you angry beeyoch.... and maybe a couple other people.... but especially you. I hate fuckers who harp about how everyone else is judgemental, all the while being judgemental themselves. Get over yourself. You don't know everything, and you're not better than anyone. I am wondering, why such a stigma against suicidal people who say they will commit for attention? It's like suicide is acceptable for every reason except attention. Attention seekers are still suicidal, they are still fucked in the head. They still need help. Why do you hate them? Don't worry about anyone suing Mouchette. I bet Mouchette wants people to sue him. This would be good for two reasons. Anyone stupid enough to try to get the law involved in this would end up looking like a fucking idiot. Plus it would possibly give Mouchette a lot of attention which Mouchette just loooooooves. Obviously Mouchette wouldn't lose, so who cares.
04 Nov 2004	Shelby	Lol, i love all the self righteous asses who are posting and are in the "cruel joke" and "blame me" section. suicide isn't a joke. not at all. report you to the authorities, pfft, please. unless someone has actually tried to commit suicide they have no fucking clue about it. and for those of you who keep throwing the "attention whore" thing out, it's stupid, lol. reaching out for help isn't being an attention whore. what is is when you start talking about something you have no clue about and threaten people with hollow threats and stupid accusations. you people are attention whores. and granted, some people do just claim to want to kill themselves for attention, but whatever, you never know when someone is serious. so, for all of you attention whores who think you're better than everybody else because you think you can handle your own problems, get over yourselves. most of the kids who want to commit suicide have serious trauma and things beyond your fucking imagination. you have no clue how their life is and how they deal with pain. so keep all your unfounded comments to your damn selves and take a good look at yourself. you're willing to judge everyone else, but it's funny how your own insecurities have you being a dumb ass. congratulations, you're a moron. mouchette kicks ass, by the way and if anyone sues her i'm gonna lay a beat down on you. I <3 you, mouchette!!!

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