the last person to post here wins

("...ah your posts are evolving humans, write whatever you wish and win with whatever it takes now..." suggested the goblin once more, adding "...for here is your stage, and the world looks on, for others will come seeking content here, and we shall give it to them, won't we just...")

the goblin's next day, the sandman has done his magic, and the sun shines on the -10c glistening street outside this busy McDonald's, while inside the Europeans eat the ambrosia of American cuisine to the sound of MTV, nextdoor the French restaurant befriends those few odd American tourists who will, no doubt, later visit the McDonald's too, possibly for the their barrings over a coffee but more likely just to be able to switch off, making the goblin conclude that McDonald's was wonderful place by stating simply that, "for the mere price of a coffee, one could become an invisible nonentity secure in the bosom of its establishment", "...our chance to bum..." the goblin would say as he switched off the world beyond McDonald's doorway once more

the goblin remembered the film scene in "One flew over the cuckoo's nest", where the big native American is simply telling randle about his father, saying "my father thought he was drinking from the bottle when it was the bottle that was drinking from him", and perhaps the slot was the goblin's bottle then.

I'm a dark fairy

"...find me a picture of a dark fairy and I will believe you..." replied the goblin

the goblin thought that there should never be a winner of the last post thread, in that who, the goblin wondered now, would like to think of themselves as having nothing more to post

I will post it later... My sister took a picture of me spinning in a short, black dress... Note: My name on here...

("..oh, no personal photos now, our personas would be lost by it, and you do want to create yourselves a fresh, the mirror is a cheat here, only your persona is real now..." replied the goblin)

"...anyway, I don't want a tombstone..." voiced the goblin, taking a shortcut through the cemetery "... well, that's if nothing in my life was worth remembering that is, and if it was worth remembering, then why have anything else to be remembered by..." a murder of crows fought over some leftover bread, which seemed appropriate, as the goblin passed names he didn't know, written on imposing headstones, till he came across a tree, that was simply pushing over a tombstone with time "...ah, so much for our efforts then..." smiled the goblin at the tree, knowing that the slot would have this image tonight, the goblin couldn't let it pass

oh yeah well i'm an ice cream man!

I think I look like a dark fairy...

I think i'm going over board on the ice cream thing :3

(the goblin welcomed the icecream man and the fairy, saying "...it always starts as a joke, and then it becomes real, though you don't believe me, but ones persona is persuasive as one gravitates towards it, "live writers" know all about personas...")


the goblin filled out the notice: "Missing, American housewife last seen pushing grocery cart down goblin's last post thread, if found please return to her to the supermarket where another one can be duly attached, warning, do not feed and do not approach as she can be dangerous as she might fall on you, thank you", "...there slot, the things I do for this site, honestly I should get a "bottom poster" award for this...", "...goblin, if we do come across this American housewife ourselves...", "...don't worry slot, I have it all planned, we can borrow a dumpcart, turn it on its side and roll her in, ah wait a sec, how are we going to get the dumpcart upright again..." the goblin looked down, and was rubbing his chin "...you know slot, this could be more difficult than I thought..." said the goblin now open to suggestions

day's end, Halloween, and the goblin passed the cemetery where voices seemed to say "...and where are our sweets then, are we now forgotten...", so the goblin promised to return the next day with a few he hadn't given away, adding "...alright but it'll be our secret then...", "...promise..." they seemed to reply as he walked on in the darkness

I updated my picture to me in the black dress...

Did you see the spirit at the graveyard goblin? she is an eerie sight -glances at the spirit [silentxmidnight]

"Goblin, you are always so interesting to listen to," said the young woman in the black dress...

("...nice..." said the goblin, adding "...then I shall think of you as you wish, for you can by anything here, simply you can't prove it as fact, any more than others can prove it as fiction...")

"...we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year, good tiding we bring..." and on hearing that song now, the goblin was once more back at the Bookworm bookshop with the ghosts of his past, as the son stood by the counter and recalled, how he had received a postcard from someone who had died in the planecrash the day before, the mother, sat at the cashdesk, priced the books, and somehow, the goblin fitted as he hand-wrote his "dear all diary", or something thing else, wordless except for asking the spelling of something, until the droning carol music which had got on everyone's nerves there, had got to the goblin's too, so he paid his coffee, and started singing in tune "...we wish you a merry Syphilis and a happy Gonerear..." only to be "dirty looked" by the mother into silence who couldn't help herself bursting out laughing two seconds later, "...we are not the Red Cross you know..." she would say, but the bookshop was exactly that, and when she suddenly died a few years later this world collapsed, and within a year her son too, first having lost the battle to alcoholism, was found drowned in the river, so if they are reading this now their goblin friend misses them and his "dear all diary" should be theirs he feels

And the Chameleon climbs down from his branch where he has been sitting patiently and watching the game unfold "True writers on a writers site then" he tries to hide his shock "... one or two or three, burning to be free, while one sparkles already in the shadow she has created, those glowing embers glistening beneath the shroud, and as you know Flea, these writers rarely impress me... I will leave another post for now then, and be back another time with more Random Stuff, methinks, most definitely"


"Am I trying to flame you, or make you think, have I a point to make, or just kicking up a stink, while your argument may be stronger, logically, and even plain for all to see, it is not, necessarily, going to matter a jot, to one or two, or me, perhaps, and I will say it in plain English, no raiding of the thesaurus or dusty books required, for fear of misunderstanding what I say, for in the end, it is not the conversion of others to your point of view that is the goal here, leave that to the fanatics, the zealous pedlars of bigotry, and the lunatics, for the only goal is to post on, while you can, cast your words out like grains of sand amongst deserted minds, for time is slipping through your hands, what you do with it, is entirely up to you".

"Goblin, you always have such interesting pictures...So intriguing...," said the young woman

*spins around* oh what lovelys! May I win for a while?

I...like... pineapples...

(first off, the goblin salutes JATS for the gem again, saying "...perfect picture too, and I see you've been doing some amazing posts of late, a natural it seems, certainly first rate...", and then turning to the others here, adding "...each "live writer" is different, like different authors on forum bookshelf, because if you write like everyone else they, then just like everyone is only what you will become, whereas if you write for yourself here, then you will become yourself then...")

meanwhile, back at CIA headquarters agent Joe is carefully monitoring Al Qaida's secret website at his desk, he thinks "...where's mac with my coffee then..." as he starts reading through the new posts for subliminal messages, reads: "infidel, may a thousand scorpions sit on your bum, your goblin days are numbered, this is my "last post" thread, it is written", then agent Joe looks up at agent McCoy who has come with his coffee, says "...you take over mac, I'm beat, I need a break..." turning to the second screen with showing the CIA site, he sips his coffee, feels better, clicks "new posts" and writes: "listen goblin, there's no way this thread is yours buddy", somehow the goblin is always supportive, he just likes sending people up he felt

"...happy April fools day..." said the goblin knowing that that was probably the right word for sleep-deprivation resulting from trying to take over the Internet by stealth, even if his email inbox resembled a jungle of "last post" replies, sanity by the way was now that faint dot on the horizon long behind him, somehow Star Trek springs to the goblin's mind with kirk's words as the goblin repeats " dart dadar di di di di dee....Internet, the final frontier, to boldly start "last post" threads where no goblin has gone before, to meet an endless stream of engaging dotty humans....da dar etc..." then adding "...Ok Slotty you can beam everyone else up a place now..." as the goblin pressed his "post" button

I want to be a puppy :3 they get petted alot.

COOKIES!

I say we all read spirits weirdo poems under her free write thing cuz they are awesome x.x