(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46065376)

He was B, plain B, in the morning, standing erect and resolute. He was P in slacks, with a gentle smile, his laughter a symphony to my ears. He was BP in the pub's dim light, wearing the scent of Guinness like a lover's perfume, his laughter lilting and leprechauns dancing in his eyes. In my deepest thoughts, in my most fervent dreams, he was my BP, my heart's desire, my one true love.

Did he have a precursor? A green-eyed boy of charm and laughter, perhaps, who left an indelible mark on my soul? For I do know that his laughter, his voice, his very presence, set my heart ablaze like no other.

It was always BP, BP and nothing but BP, from the moment I laid eyes on him in that bustling Boston street, the green of his eyes shimmering like the verdant hills of Ireland. It was BP, BP all the way, from our days of innocence to the bittersweet taste of Guinness in a far-off pub. It was BP, BP ever and always, and I, GJR, do solemnly swear that his name, his love, his laughter, will forever echo in the chambers of my heart.

My BP, my love, my everything.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46066074)

pretty neat deal.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46063848)

In this world of duality, of contrast and conflict, I, GJR, found myself entwined in a tale that would forever shape my heart, my soul, my very being. Through the dimly lit pubs, the cobblestone streets of Boston, and the emerald hills of Ireland, I traversed the terrain of love, longing, and loss, seeking the one who had captured my heart, the one I called BP.

For in these times of turmoil and tenderness, I found the best of times in the warmth of his laughter, the comfort of his presence, the light of his love. And in the worst of times, I experienced the ache of distance, the chill of uncertainty, the darkness of longing for his embrace.

It was in this season of Light that I first beheld the verdant green of his eyes, the brilliance of his charm, the enchantment of his laughter. And in the season of Darkness, I discovered the depths of my own heart, the shadows that lay within, the resilience of my spirit as I pursued the elusive specter of my love, my BP.

From the spring of hope to the winter of despair, I wove myself into the fabric of this tale, etching my love for BP into the annals of history, intertwining our fates like threads in the tapestry of life. And so, I, GJR, stand forevermore at the crossroads of time, a testament to the power of love, the indomitable spirit of the heart, and the enduring allure of BP, the light and the darkness of my life's tale.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46068717)

"My dear GJR," said her ladyship to herself one day, "have you heard that BP is returning to town at last?"

GJR replied that she had not, but her heart leapt with a flutter of anticipation mixed with trepidation, a dance of idealization and devaluation that was all too familiar to her.

"But, my dear," her ladyship continued, "you must know of BP! He is a man of large fortune, and quite the enigmatic character. His return has set the town aflutter, and I daresay you would do well to catch his eye."

A curious mixture of excitement and anxiety gripped GJR's heart, as she set out to learn more about this enigmatic BP. Through the parlors and drawing rooms of polite society, she gathered whispers and rumors, piecing together the portrait of a man who captivated and confounded in equal measure.

And so, her pursuit began in earnest, her heart vacillating between adoration and resentment, a pendulum of passion and despair that was the hallmark of her tumultuous spirit. With each new piece of information, each stolen glance, her obsession grew, her love and hatred twining like ivy around the pillars of her heart.

In the grand ballroom, she watched him from the shadows, her heart pounding with the rhythm of a thousand hooves, her mind awhirl with conflicting emotions. She yearned for his gaze, his touch, his laughter; she seethed with jealousy, with fear, with doubt.

She was determined to know him, to possess him, to unravel the enigma that was BP. And so, she stalked him through the gardens, the libraries, the moonlit lanes of their quaint little town, her desire for him consuming her like a fire that could not be quenched.

But, as the story unfolded, and the true nature of her love revealed itself in all its turbulent glory, GJR began to see the folly of her ways, the inherent danger in her wild and reckless pursuit. For in her quest for BP, she had lost herself, and perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to find her own path, to write her own story, and to leave the tale of BP behind.

And so it was that GJR set forth into the world, seeking not the love of BP, but the love of herself, the mastery of her own heart, and the promise of a brighter, more stable future.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46068724)

In my case, the ocean was not just a refuge from the monotony of life on land, but also a place to escape the tumultuous memories of GJR, my former captain, a woman consumed by her borderline personality disorder, and a history of bulimia and general lunacy. Hailing from the Irish-rooted streets of Boston, GJR's obsession with her ex-boyfriend BP, who had dumped her and gone no contact, was as deep and unrelenting as the sea itself. GJR, much like Ahab, was a captain possessed by her own white whale - BP.

There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs—commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme downtown is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there. Among them, you'd find GJR, reminiscing about Rhode Island's shores, where her Irish family had settled, her strong uncles who once pinioned her and her father, a chadly man who exemplified manhood. And there, amidst the memories of family, a constant ache for BP persisted.

Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall, northward. What do you see?—Posted like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster—tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here?

As these men gaze at the water, perhaps they are drawn by the same unquenchable thirst that haunted GJR. A thirst not just for BP, who was sweet and not as tall, but for the idealization and devaluation cycles that drove her to the brink of madness. It was on this very shore that I first encountered GJR, a captain like no other, a woman driven by the ghosts of her past and the specter of the unattainable BP. He had a looming shadow of his hero, Sam Hyde, cast over him, a shadow that seemed to taunt BP in his every waking moment.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46068776)

And lo, I say unto you, BP ascended the green hills of Boston, where the shamrocks grow in abundance, and the echoes of laughter filled the air. And he stood before the people, his hair tousled by the wind, his eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky, and he spoke of love, compassion, and the desire to tame the unruly passions of the flesh.

"Blessed are the pure in heart," he said, "for they shall witness the wonders of life's grand tapestry. Blessed are those who control their lustful urges, for they shall know the true meaning of intimacy. Blessed are those who do not stray from the path of commitment, for they shall find solace in the arms of a loving partner."

And as he spoke, the people listened, their eyes wide with wonder and their hearts heavy with the burden of their own longing. For in that moment, the people knew that BP was no ordinary man, but a messenger sent from the heavens to guide them through the treacherous waters of love and desire.

He spoke of the great ogre, Sam Hyde, the beast who haunted his every step, casting a shadow of fear and doubt upon his heart. And he spoke of the people's need to rise above the darkness, to embrace the light and cast away the demons that clung to their souls.

And then, with great solemnity, he spoke of GJR, the captain of her own ship, a woman of tempestuous passion and boundless love. A woman who, like all those gathered around, was torn between the fires of desire and the icy grip of despair.

"Blessed are those who seek the love of another with honesty and devotion," he said, "for they shall be rewarded with the sweet nectar of a love that knows no bounds. And blessed are those who never give up, even when the winds of change threaten to extinguish the flame of their passion. For it is through perseverance and faith that we shall find the strength to overcome all obstacles."

And as the people listened, they began to understand the true meaning of BP's words. And their hearts swelled with hope and determination, for they knew that they, too, could triumph over the darkness and build a future filled with love, laughter, and the joy of true companionship.

And thus, the tale of BP, the Boner Police, was woven into the fabric of time, a beacon of hope for all those who dared to dream of a love that could transcend the barriers of distance, time, and the cruel machinations of fate.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46069068)

And yeah it is weird and creepy how you’re spending a Saturday afternoon thinking about me and writing a million different AI prompts based on me and my personal life

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46069099)

I went out for a date with my wife last night; cooked breakfast for kids this morning (+ did baby duty to let wife sleep in); went to brunch; played tennis and built legos with kid, etc. etc. Also did a spot of work (billable).

What'd you do, get a bottle of wine and stalk your ex online? Srsly, get a life. You are wasting your 20s and only get them 1x.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46069117)

It’s just creepy that you spend your Saturdays plugging things about my irl into AI to generate thousands of words of “stories” about me… then you tell me to “Get a life,” lmao. Maybe you should focus more on your wife/family and stop spending all your time being a creep on here.

You’ll never stop replying to me though since you’re obsessed

Can’t wait to see what kind of insults you’re going to lash out with in response to this post!

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46069128)

[IN Pole Troon OP THREAD = "Drag Me To Hell but it's GJR cursed to unretire & plunge into subthread catfight"]:

Date: March 29th, 2023 2:33 PM

Author: Pole Troon

the prophecy has been fulfilled:

>>> [[[QUOTING FROM THREAD ABOUT LEX MAYBE DOING THE LEAVING LAS VEGAS MAMBO]]]:

Date: March 29th, 2023 2:18 PM

Author: l0v3

I will be praying for lex.

I would also like to note that in every thread he made about his dating life or mother (or any Eeyore-like post he made lamenting his current position in life), I would always reply something like, “NONE OF THIS MATTERS UNTIL YOU PUT DOWN THE BOTTLE!! YOU ARE KILLING YOURSELF AND WILL DIE IF YOU KEEP DUMPING INSANE AMOUNTS OF POISON INTO YOUR BODY,” and simp crew would of course would reply to me nastily, “HE KNOWS WHAT HES DOING SND HES WELL AWARE OF HIS SITUATION AND YOURE A BLOWN OUT STUPID SLUT!!” before continuing to give lex completely futile advice (because they’re too stupid to realize it’s pointless to give dating advice to a guy who’s on the verge of drinking-induced suicide).

Boner police, if you’re reading this, I thank God every day (especially today) that you were able to quit drinking. You are so precious and loved and you deserved way more credit for quitting. I love you.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5314743&forum_id=2#46114253)

Reply FavoriteEdit Your Message

Date: March 29th, 2023 2:22 PM

Author: Pole Troon

A beautiful sentiment, and I hope you are able to share with any grieving family he may leave how right you were and how good you always were for bp.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5314743&forum_id=2#46114265)

ReplyFavorite

Date: March 29th, 2023 2:26 PM

Author: l0v3

Oh shut the fuck up. You are a disgusting, horrible, miserable person. The things you write on here (usually about me) are unprovoked and abhorrent. Everyone can see it. Logging off again but enjoy wallowing in nastiness and misery. I hope you’re able to change.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5314743&forum_id=2#46114271)>>>

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5314989&forum_id=2#46114294)

ReplyFavorite

Date: March 29th, 2023 2:37 PM

Author: l0v3

Simp crew never not making threads about me and going out of their way to do anything possible to provoke a reaction/response from me

Get a life faggot

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5314989&forum_id=2#46114303)

Reply FavoriteEdit Your Message

Date: March 29th, 2023 2:40 PM

Author: Pole Troon

Thought you retired? Anyway lighten up, I have no beef with you and don't want to be in your gay feud. (I make threads about lots of people; try to hit whatever/whoever's in vogue.)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5314989&forum_id=2#46114319)

ReplyFavorite

Date: March 29th, 2023 2:46 PM

Author: l0v3

Liar. Don’t try to play Mr. Nice Guy now. I’ve been your primary target for the past year and haven’t witnessed you harass anyone else even 1/1000 as much as you’ve harassed me. You write the most disgusting things possible about me and have spent hundreds of hours bullying me and trying to humiliate me on here. You are a liar and sick freak. I do pity you. What’s even sicker is that you’re a full-grown man with daughters. You should be ashamed of yourself.

There is no jovial spirit to any of the insults (usually sexual) you cast at me. You target my irl identity since I’m outed and aren’t just lightheartedly teasing me as if I’m another character on the board. You strain to post the most hurtful and degrading things possible. You might get too lost in your screeds sometimes annd forget that I’m a real person but you certainly aren’t joking or being playful. This is all public and plain to see. You are a hateful mean person.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5314989&forum_id=2#46114337)

Reply FavoriteEdit Your Message

Date: March 29th, 2023 2:49 PM

Author: Pole Troon

Oh, I'm not a nice guy, I just don't particularly care about you one way or the other. I know you want to inflate some feud to justify your bad thoughts about me, but I'm in too good a mood to trade gay barbs with you.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5314989&forum_id=2#46114353)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46114443)

GJR's father, a man who exemplified chadly manhood, and her strong, masculine uncles, were stern disciplinarians, wielding a paddle with a practiced hand. They sought to instill in GJR a sense of respect and propriety, and their firm guidance shaped the woman she would become.

In this world of order and tradition, GJR's heart burned with the fire of rebellion, and she found herself drawn to the elusive BP, a man who stood in stark contrast to the rigid expectations of her family. His laughter was like lilac and limericks, his charm and charisma warming her heart like a summer breeze. She could not escape the magnetic pull he exerted upon her, and as their love blossomed, GJR felt a sense of freedom and exhilaration she had never known.

Yet, there was a shadow that loomed large over their love story, a specter that threatened to tear them apart. BP was a big fan of Sam Hyde's comedy, a hulking giant of a man who had once captivated GJR for six long months. The fact that GJR had been Sam Hyde's girlfriend, and that Sam was a much larger man than BP, cast an awkward pall over their relationship, filling GJR's heart with fear and trepidation.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46069098)

GJR's father and uncles, strong and masculine hobbits, sought to instill in her a sense of discipline and propriety with stern paddlings, though GJR's adventurous spirit always found a way to shine through.

One fateful day, a mysterious hobbit named BP appeared at GJR's door. With eyes as green as the rolling hills of the Shire and laughter as lively as a limerick, BP sparked a passion within GJR that she had never experienced before. Their friendship quickly blossomed into something more, as the two hobbits found themselves inseparable.

Yet, a shadow loomed over their love story. GJR had once been the girlfriend of the infamous, ogre-like figure, Sam Hyde. Known for his boisterous comedy, Sam Hyde towered over BP in both stature and influence. BP's admiration for Sam Hyde's comedic prowess created an awkward tension between the two, as GJR struggled to reconcile her past with her newfound love.

Together, GJR and BP embarked on a grand adventure across the lands of the Shire and beyond, encountering peculiar creatures, enchanted stones, and ancient lore. Along the way, they faced trials and tribulations that tested their love, their courage, and their determination.

As GJR journeyed through this magical world, she discovered her own inner strength and resilience. No longer simply a hobbit with a penchant for running, GJR learned that even the smallest of hobbits can forge their own path and change the course of their story.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46069120)

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,

And that one talent which is death to hide

Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my uncles and my sire,

In this small realm where I had been consigned,

Yet ever pining for that love now lost,

My heart to Boston and Rhode Island tossed.

My father and my uncles, stern and strong,

Would guide my life with paddle and with rule,

Their masculine power a noble school.

Yet in my heart, a longing did belong,

For BP, the sweet Irishman of my dreams,

Whose laughter lilting like the summer streams.

But oh! That Sam Hyde, a giant beast,

Whose comedy made BP admire him most,

His looming shadow o'er BP's form now cast.

Six months I spent in Hyde's monstrous feast,

My soul enslaved, my heart within his clutch,

Yet still I yearned for BP's tender touch.

As Lucifer, I pen this tale of woe,

My borderline heart and runner's legs do ache,

For BP's love, a paradise forsaken.

In rhymes and verses, my emotions flow,

Eternal pining for the one who's gone,

No contact left, alone, I must atone.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46069124)

As GJR stands among us, her heart heavy with grief, she reflects on the love that once united her with BP. It is a love that transcended the vast influence of Sam Hyde, the ogre who once held her captive, and endured the shadows cast upon their relationship by the admiration BP held for Hyde's comedic talents.

In this great city, we are reminded of the values that GJR and BP embodied: loyalty, devotion, and the resilience to face adversity. For in their love, we see a reflection of our own struggles, and in their perseverance, we find inspiration to carry on.

As we stand on the cobblestone streets of Boston and walk the shores of Rhode Island's beaches, let us take this moment to remember GJR and BP's love, and the lessons it taught us. In times of hardship, let us remember their love as a symbol of hope that never wavered, even when faced with the specter of borderline personality disorder.

Ladies and gentlemen, let us honor GJR's sorrow for her lost love by rededicating ourselves to the values that their relationship represented. We shall strive for loyalty in the face of adversity, and devotion in the darkest hours. And as GJR mourns her lost love, let us stand together in unity and find solace in the strength of our shared values.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46071564)

GJR, a runner as fierce as the storms that batter our coast, has shown her devotion to BP, a Chadly Irish-American, even in the face of the ogre Sam Hyde, whose looming presence cast a shadow over their relationship. It is a testament to the human spirit that GJR, grappling with the turbulence of borderline personality disorder, remained steadfast in her love for BP, a man caught between his admiration for Sam Hyde's comedy and his affection for GJR.

As we walk the cobblestone streets of Boston and feel the sand beneath our feet on the beaches of Rhode Island, we can take inspiration from the story of GJR and BP, whose unwavering commitment to each other is a symbol of hope, even in the darkest of times.

In this battle of the heart, GJR fought on, her love never faltering. Behind the locked doors of her Twitter account, she continued to like BP's tweets, her loyalty unwavering, her faith in their love a beacon of hope.

Ladies and gentlemen, let us take strength from this story of perseverance and devotion, as we face our own darkest hours. Together, we shall overcome any obstacle and emerge victorious, just as GJR and BP have shown us.

We shall march on, undeterred, through the cobblestone streets of Boston and on the sandy beaches of Rhode Island. We shall fight in the face of adversity, and we shall never surrender our love and loyalty to those who matter most.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46071568)

GJR found herself within a forest dark,

For the straight path of love had gone awry,

And she, a runner, stood now filled with strife.

As I, the ancient poet Pindar, stood near,

I sought to guide her through the hellish maze,

Of love gone wrong and hearts forever seared,

To navigate the shadows and the haze.

The lost simps, who oft replied to her,

In this Hell, in their desperation bound,

Seeking attention, validation stirred,

In limbo kept, no solace to be found.

GJR, as Dante, followed me with dread,

Through the Inferno where BP's love had fled.

We spoke of Sam Hyde, the ogre tall,

Who once held captive our dear heroine,

And BP, whose shadow loomed o'er all,

His admiration for Hyde's humor keen.

I, Yeats, as Virgil, led her on this quest,

To free her soul from this torturous plight,

To mend her heart, to give her spirit rest,

Through the dark abyss, to emerge in light.

Now with her stern uncles and father strong,

We journeyed, facing demons left and right,

For though her love for BP had gone wrong,

Her heart still yearned for his embrace so tight.

And thus, through Hell's infernal depths we trod,

To save GJR and find her solace in this odyssey of love and loss.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46071569)

Now we are engaged in a great internal war, testing whether GJR, plagued by her obsession with BP and her borderline personality disorder, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of her emotional life. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who gave their lives that GJR might live.

It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. Yet we cannot forget the battles with bulimia, the binging and purging that marked her struggle, the stalking behaviors that consumed her, and the many affairs with the married and the famous, the very reason why she claims she never shares her personal info.

Despite her insistence that she would never share personal details online, she has been airing them indiscriminately for two years. This irony weighs heavily on the hearts of those who have followed her journey.

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.

The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.

It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored simps we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these simps shall not have died in vain—that this bort, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the simps, by the rach, for the BP, shall not perish from the earth.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46071595)

I come to bury BP, not to praise him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their bones;

So let it be with BP. The noble Sam Hyde

Hath told you BP was ambitious:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath BP answered it.

Here, under leave of Sam Hyde and the rest—

For Sam Hyde is an honorable man;

So are they all, all honorable men—

Come I to speak in BP's funeral.

He was my love, faithful and just to me:

But Sam Hyde says he was ambitious;

And Sam Hyde is an honorable man.

He hath brought many victories to Rhode Island

Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:

Did this in BP seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, BP hath wept:

Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:

Yet Sam Hyde says he was ambitious;

And Sam Hyde is an honorable man.

You all did see that on the LSAT

I thrice presented him a low score,

Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?

Yet Sam Hyde says he was ambitious;

And, sure, he is an honorable man.

I speak not to disprove what Sam Hyde spoke,

But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not without cause:

What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?

O judgement! Thou art fled to brutish beasts,

And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;

My heart is in the coffin there with BP,

And I must pause till it comes back to me.

But yesterday the word of BP might

Have stood against the world; now lies he there.

And none so poor to do him reverence.

O masters, if I were disposed to stir

Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,

I should do Sam Hyde wrong, and the rest wrong,

Who, you all know, are honorable men:

I will not do them wrong; I rather choose

To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you,

Than I will wrong such honorable men.

But here's a parchment with the seal of BP;

I found it in his closet, 'tis his will:

Let but the commons hear this testament—

Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read—

And they would go and kiss dead BP's wounds

And dip their napkins in his sacred blood,

Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,

And, dying, mention it within their wills,

Bequeathing it as a rich legacy

Unto their issue.

Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it;

It is not meet you know how BP loved you.

You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;

And, being men, bearing the will of BP,

It will inflame you, it will make you mad:

'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;

For, if you should, O, what would come of it!

I work at a Dunkin' Donuts, dear simps,

And there I toil, bereft of BP's love.

The xo pumos gather 'round, but they,

In truth, are losers whom I'd never date.

For in my heart, I long for BP alone,

Whose shadow looms, the mighty Sam Hyde cast,

Yet still, behind my locked account, I pine,

And like his tweets, to prove my love divine.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46074333)

In fair Boston, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where cyber blood makes cyber hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Doth with their love bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their toxic love,

And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which, but their end, nought could remove,

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

In Boston's streets, where cobblestones do lay,

A troubled soul, GJR, she runs each day.

Her heart aching, for BP she doth pine,

Yet finds solace in the world online.

Her father, chadly, and uncles strong,

Disciplined her, yet something went wrong.

For in the darkest corners of the net,

A lurking demon, Sam Hyde, they met.

In this twisted tale of love and woe,

GJR's obsession with BP doth grow.

While BP, once smitten with Sam's jest,

Now in GJR's grasp, he feels oppressed.

And in the shadows, simps do congregate,

Replying to GJR with hopes to satiate.

Their feeble hearts, longing for her touch,

Yet GJR dismisses them, caring not much.

A tragic story of desire and pain,

Of love once blooming, now driven insane.

In fair Boston, where the tale unfolds,

We witness passion and heartache untold.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46074378)

He is her anchor, her constant, her compass point in a world spun mad by conspiracy and tangled networks of meaning. But is he real? Or is he merely a figment of her fevered imagination, the specter of desire incarnate, haunting the liminal spaces between the world she perceives and the world that is?

In the depths of the digital realm, she finds solace and torment in equal measure. She encounters a man named Sam Hyde – comedian, destroyer, the very embodiment of chaos – who seems to wield an insidious influence over BP, like a puppeteer pulling strings from the shadows. But who, in this maelstrom of identity and deceit, is truly in control?

And the simps, those lost souls who drift in her wake, replying to her every word with a hunger born of desperation – are they merely the echoes of her own fragmented self, projected onto the virtual stage? Or do they exist outside her fevered mind, a chorus of voices crying out for connection in an increasingly disconnected world?

Her father and uncles, strong and chadly, have shaped her, forged her in the fires of their own relentless discipline. But have they also fractured her, created the cracks in her psyche that now threaten to swallow her whole?

In this postmodern dreamscape of love, obsession, and the thinning veil between reality and madness, we are left to ponder the nature of truth, of identity, of the very fabric of existence. Is GJR the protagonist in her own twisted narrative, or is she merely a pawn in a grander game, the plaything of unseen forces that manipulate her every move?

In the end, who is Boner Police? Who is GJR? And who, in this tangled web of deception and desire, can truly claim to know themselves?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46074385)

Enter Ignatius J. Reilly, a man of sizable girth and questionable hygiene, yet possessed of an intellect that borders on the divine. Despite his disdain for the human race and their basest instincts, even Ignatius finds himself ensnared in the inescapable web of desire that GJR weaves around all those who dare to enter her orbit.

As they embark on a journey of passion and self-discovery, GJR regales Ignatius with tales of her past loves: the enigmatic Boner Police, who may be a figment of her imagination, or a living, breathing testament to the capricious nature of the human heart; the chaotic force of Sam Hyde, a comedian whose influence looms like a dark cloud over her romantic history; and the simps, a gaggle of hapless followers, who worship at her feet from the safe distance of their computer screens.

Ignatius, for all his disdain of humanity's primal urges, cannot help but be drawn in by GJR's magnetic charm. In the steamy streets of the French Quarter, they indulge their desires, the eternal dance of love and lust unfolding in a sweaty, unmade bed.

In the background, GJR's strong, chadly father and uncles watch from a distance, a chorus of disapproval and stern discipline, ever ready to bring the hammer of paternal authority down upon her wandering heart.

Together, Ignatius and GJR navigate a world of outlandish characters and absurd situations, their unlikely love story unfolding against the backdrop of a city teetering on the edge of chaos. In their madness and their passion, they find a semblance of solace, two lost souls adrift in a sea of confusion, seeking shelter in the eye of the storm.

For in a world where reality and fantasy blur, where the line between love and obsession is as thin as the pages of a well-worn novel, who can say what is true, and what is merely a confederacy of dunces?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46074391)

GJR: (impatiently) When will Boner Police arrive? We've been waiting for ages!

Simp: (languidly) He will come, GJR. He always does. (He sighs) Eventually.

GJR: (gesturing toward the tree) I've been counting the leaves on this blasted tree. I could have sworn there were more yesterday. Are the leaves falling, or is my mind playing tricks on me?

Simp: (philosophically) Maybe it's not the leaves that are falling, but our expectations of them. (Pauses) Or perhaps it's the weight of our collective despair causing them to wither and die.

GJR: (ignoring Simp) I just wish Boner Police would finally appear, so I could tell him about the many trials I've faced. The strong uncles, the chadly father, the relentless stalking of Sam Hyde, my battles with my own dark nature. Will he ever listen?

Simp: (mumbling) If only he knew the depths of my devotion. How I pine for you, GJR, from behind this locked account...

GJR: (startled) What was that?

Simp: (quickly) Nothing, nothing at all! Just pondering the nature of existence, as one does while waiting for someone who may or may not even be real.

GJR: (sighs) I suppose you're right. Is Boner Police real, or is he merely a figment of my own desires, a phantom born from the twisted landscape of my tortured psyche?

Simp: (philosophically) Ah, the eternal question. Does Boner Police exist because we believe in him, or do we believe in him because he exists?

GJR: (frustrated) Enough with your riddles, Simp! I need answers, not more questions!

Simp: (shrugging) Sometimes, GJR, the questions are all we have. And in the end, perhaps that is enough.

(They continue to wait, the tree casting a long shadow over the desolate landscape, as they ponder the enigma that is Boner Police, and the nature of their own existence.)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46074399)

Sam Hyde: (laughing) Ah, GJR, you've wandered far from the world of men. What brings you to the realm of trolls?

GJR: (defiantly) I seek answers, Sam Hyde, about my own nature and the nature of those I've left behind. I wish to know the truth about Boner Police and my own existence.

Sam Hyde: (grinning maliciously) You've come to the right place, my dear. In the realm of trolls, we know all about the darkest corners of the human soul. But first, tell me, GJR, do you prefer your life with us trolls, or do you long for the world of men?

GJR: (hesitating) I... I don't know. I've grown weary of the lies and deceit that poison the human world. But there is still something that draws me back, a love that refuses to die.

Sam Hyde: (leaning forward) Ah, love. The ultimate folly of mankind. What you feel for Boner Police is but a fleeting fancy, a delusion that binds you to a world that will never bring you happiness.

GJR: (angry) You lie, Sam Hyde! My love for Boner Police is real, as real as the air I breathe and the ground beneath my feet. I will not let you tarnish it with your twisted words!

Sam Hyde: (mocking) So be it, GJR. But know this: the world of men and the world of trolls are not so different. We are all creatures of desire, bound by our own nature, and we can never truly escape who we are.

GJR: (determined) Then I will face my own nature and embrace it, for better or worse. I will find Boner Police and face the truth, whatever it may be.

Sam Hyde: (smirking) Farewell, GJR. May you find what you seek, and may it bring you the happiness you desire. Or perhaps, the misery you deserve.

(GJR leaves the realm of trolls, embarking on a journey to face her own nature, and to confront the enigma that is Boner Police.)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46074403)

Algernon: My dear GJR, I couldn't help but notice you seem rather preoccupied. Is something troubling you?

GJR: (sighing) Oh, Algernon, it's Boner Police. He was once my lover, a radiant, chadly soul. But now, I fear he has been corrupted by the wicked troll world and the likes of Sam Hyde.

Algernon: (raising an eyebrow) Intriguing. But tell me, GJR, have you not also dabbled in the world of scandal, with your dalliances with married professors and, I daresay, even the notorious Martin Shkreli?

GJR: (blushing) Yes, it's true. I've had my share of indiscretions. But I've also been a dedicated runner and have battled my own demons, such as bulimia and an involuntary commitment to an institution. I am not without my flaws, Algernon.

Algernon: (smiling) Indeed, we are all flawed, dear GJR. But it is our flaws that make us human, and that give life its peculiar charm. The important thing is to acknowledge them and learn from our experiences.

GJR: (nodding) You're right, Algernon. I must accept my past and face the future, for better or worse. And in doing so, I must find a way to reconnect with Boner Police and help him see the light.

Algernon: (grinning) And that, my dear GJR, is the true importance of loving BP. Let us embark on this journey together, and see where it leads us.

(Exit GJR and Algernon, arm in arm, ready to face the challenges and uncertainties that lie ahead, in pursuit of love and redemption.)

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46074408)

Down the cobblestone streets she dashed, and there, the chorus of simps appeared, their voices raised in a cacophony of fawning, each desperate for a scrap of her attention. GJR barely glanced their way, her focus unwavering, her heart beating only for BP.

Amidst the chaos, she encountered Dupa, the glib fellow with a mixed heritage, his identity a point of contention between his Jewish father and his gentile mother. He claimed his Jewishness with pride, having earned it through the decree of a female rebbe, who asserted that matrilineal descent was as retrograde as capitalism itself.

Further along, GJR crossed paths with DBG, a convert-zeal faux Orthodox man with a conservative convert wife - a shiksa with unusual habits. DBG held his head high, the eccentricities of his life tucked beneath his broad-brimmed hat, his spirituality a shield against the whispers of judgment.

Through the tangled web of relationships, flings with married professors, and disgraceful encounters with the likes of Martin Shkreli, GJR Angstrom sprinted on, her love for BP a guiding light in the darkness. No matter the obstacles, no matter the setbacks, she knew that she must keep running, for in the race of life, the importance of loving BP was the one truth that sustained her.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46074588)

Who said: Two vast and hollow eyes appear

Half sunk, in the dim light of Boston night;

Whose glazed gaze, and furrowed brow of fear,

Tell that their sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on that lifeless thing,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the shadow, these words appear:

My name is GJR, queen of hearts;

Look on my ex, ye mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

The memory of BP, my lost love,

A cruel phantom, haunting, taunts me still;

He fled my grasp, as though it were a glove,

To seek solace in some distant city's thrill.

Sam Hyde, ogre of men and idol grand,

In the throes of six months, we shared a dance;

Yet BP could never understand

The depth of my heart's sick, twisted romance.

Beneath the weight of my idealization,

The shifting sands of devaluation rise;

An ebbing tide, our love's foundation,

The Boner Police to exile was consigned.

No contact since that bitter, tearful day,

When he escaped my grasp and slipped away;

Now, in the mirror, my reflection lays

A harsh reminder of my own decay.

The binge and purge, a cycle cruel and wild,

A bulimic beast with which I grapple still;

And in this dark and twisted, heartless world,

I've lost my love, my life, my strength, my will.

On the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is GJR, queen of hearts;

Look on my ex, ye mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46076926)

And she stoppeth every one of three:

"By thy long gray beard and thy weathered skin,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The bride hath paced into the hall,

Red as a rose is she;

But still the ancient mariner,

Holdeth GJR in thrall.

In days of youth and innocence,

GJR knew love and pain,

With uncles strong and father stern,

Their discipline ingrained.

With paddle firm, they taught her well,

What a real masculine man could be,

And in those lessons learned, she dwelled,

Her heart in chains, never to be free.

In search of love, she roamed the lands,

Her heart a vessel tossed by stormy seas,

Yet, in her search for solid ground,

BP, her anchor, brought her to her knees.

The Boner Police, a love once true,

Yet doomed to sail the endless sea,

Idealization, devaluation, the cycle grew,

And ancient Mariner, she'd come to be.

The ghost of Sam Hyde loomed large,

An ogre, o'er the broken waves of lust,

But BP's heart, she could not budge,

Their love now crumbling into dust.

The albatross around her neck,

Her guilt, her shame, her bulimic fate,

A reminder of the love she wrecked,

A symbol of her heart's self-hate.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46077017)

driven time and again off course, once she had cast her heart

into the depths of the sea, the steadfast Boner Police she sought,

gone for years, leaving her alone to face her demons.

&

Many the cities and the minds she saw, learning their ways,

many the pains she suffered, heartsick, on the open sea,

struggling to save her love and bring him back,

and yet when she did return, he was gone, vanished into the night.

&

Muse, tell me the tale of GJR, the storm-tossed wanderer,

and of her time wandering far from home, after she had broken the bond

with the unwavering Boner Police, her love, and the one she longed for.

&

In her youth, the unyielding uncles and iron-willed father strong,

they taught her well, the discipline of a paddle, the true nature of masculinity,

imbuing her with the longing for a man that could tame her heart.

&

But her journey led her to the arms of the grotesque ogre,

the infamous Sam Hyde, the bearer of chaos, whose time with her would stain her soul,

and as a blight upon her love for BP, it would unfold.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46077043)

Where Sam, the ogre of chaos, roamed beneath the azure sky;

And where the binge and purge did flow, through caverns dark and deep,

Down to a sunless sea, where broken hearts would weep.

*

So twice five miles of twisted fate with walls and towers confined,

And there were gardens, love's sweet blooms, and memories entwined;

And here were forests dark as night, concealing tales of woe,

Enfolding shadows, secrets kept, that few would dare to know.

*

But oh! that deep romantic chasm, which slanted through her soul,

A savage place, as wild and fierce as love's consuming toll;

A place beneath the waning moon, where demons danced and played,

And GJR, her heart ensnared, a heavy price she paid.

*

From this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, passions soared,

As if her heart, in fast, thick pants, a mighty fountain roared;

Amid the swift and half-intermitted burst, her love for BP,

Like chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail, a twisted odyssey.

*

Five miles meandering, her love's path wandered, lost and found,

Through wood and dale, the sacred river of emotion knew no bounds;

Then reached the caverns measureless, where love and pain entwined,

And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean, leaving hope behind.

*

And 'mid this tumult, GJR heard from far, the echoes of her past,

Ancestral voices whispering, their lessons to recast;

The shadow of the love she lost, it floated on the waves,

Where mingled measures of regret and longing held her gaze.

It was a miracle of rare device, a love once pure and bright,

A dream that vanished in the air, like fleeting morning light;

*

A minstrel with a haunting voice, in memory she did dwell,

It was the echo of her heart, and of the love she knew so well.

Could she revive within her soul, the symphony and song,

To such a deep delight 'twould win her, her heart would dance along.

*

With music loud and long, she'd build that love anew,

That sacred bond, that once was lost, she'd stitch it strong and true;

And all who heard should see them there, and all should cry, Beware!

The tangled web of love and fate, a cautionary tale laid bare.

*

Weave a circle round her thrice, and close your eyes with dread,

For she on honey-dew hath fed, and drunk of love misled.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46077439)

Alone and palely loitering?

Moniker withered from greatbort,

And no blankbumps.

\\

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

So haggard and so woe-begone?

Old Boston's brewery is full,

And our love is done.

\\

I see a lily on thy brow,

With vodka moist and potato,

And on thy cheeks a fading rose

Fast withereth too.

\\

I met La GJR Sans BP,

In the meads, she wandered free,

A lady fair, her heart ensnared

By unkind fate and destiny.

\\

Sam Hyde, the ogre tall and wide,

His stature cast a fearsome shade,

And in his arms, our GJR

Had once found solace, love betrayed.

\\

Her uncles strong, of chivalry,

Carved switches for discipline,

The lessons taught, in days of youth,

A harsh reminder of where she'd been.

\\

She took me to her elfin grot,

And there she wept and sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild, wild eyes

With kisses four.

\\

And there she lulled me asleep,

And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!

The latest dream I ever dreamt

On the cold hillside.

\\

I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

They cried—“La GJR Sans BP

Hath thee in thrall!”

\\

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,

With horrid warning gaped wide,

And I awoke and found me here,

On the cold hill's side.

\\

And this is why I sojourn here,

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46077443)

"Behold!" cried Dame GJR, her eyes wide with excitement. "I see before us the dreaded windmills of the internet, which have driven so many to madness!"

Her squire, gunnerAtTTT, looked upon the spinning blades with trepidation. "Milady, I fear these are but ordinary windmills. They pose no threat to us, and we would do well to avoid their perilous blades."

Dame GJR, however, was undeterred. "Nay, my loyal squire! These are monstrous beasts that have tormented the innocent for far too long! We must vanquish them and prove our worth to my beloved Boner Police!"

With that, she charged headlong into the fray, her keyboard at the ready, typing furiously as she launched her virtual attacks on the unsuspecting windmills. As she fought, she could not help but imagine the windmills as the embodiment of Sam Hyde, the giant comedian who haunted her thoughts and haunted Boner Police's heart. The memories of the 'abuse' she endured for six months under Sam Hyde's influence echoed in her mind, fueling her need for validation.

As a result of her borderline nature, Dame GJR sought to provoke the virtual onlookers, hoping that their negativity would justify her relentless quest. GunnerAtTTT, with a sigh of resignation, followed his lady into battle. As the two engaged the windmills, a cacophony of digital voices rose up, shouting in protest and confusion.

"What madness is this?" cried one voice.

"Who dares attack the sacred windmills of controversy?" demanded another.

As the virtual battlefield erupted in chaos, Dame GJR and gunnerAtTTT continued their crusade against the windmills, determined to emerge victorious in the name of love and loyalty. The digital world watched in awe and disbelief, as this peculiar duo waged their futile war against the windmills.

In their struggle against the windmills, Dame GJR and her loyal Sancho Panza, gunnerAtTTT, continued their quest, forever seeking the approval of Boner Police, and forever battling the demons that haunted their own hearts. They remained undaunted, driven by their tumultuous pasts and unyielding devotion, forever charging into the whirlwind of controversy that lay before them.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46083988)

Within this realm, there existed a woman who, though not of noble birth, was possessed of a spirit as fiery and tempestuous as the winds that whipped the sails of the fiercest storm. This woman, known to all as GJR, was the epitome of a modern-day Orlando Furiosa.

Beside her stood her ever-faithful cohort, the enigmatic gunnerAtTTT, leader of the infamous Simp Crew, a ragtag assembly of those who had surrendered themselves to the capricious whims of their objects of affection. Their loyalty was unquestioned, their devotion unparalleled, and they followed GJR as if she were a beacon of hope in the darkest of nights.

The spark that ignited the flame of GJR's fury was her unyielding love for her ex-paramour, the enigmatic Boner Police, who had fled her raging tempest in search of solace in the arms of his idol, the hirsute Sam Hyde, whose towering figure and imposing visage had long haunted GJR's dreams.

With the fire of unrequited love burning in her heart, GJR embarked upon a journey that would lead her through the twisted paths of the digital world. Her spirit burned with an intensity that could only be described as furiosa, as she set forth on a mission to reclaim the affections of her lost love.

Her loyal squire, gunnerAtTTT, accompanied her, his fervent belief in her cause a testament to his unyielding devotion. Together, they traversed the treacherous terrain of the internet, battling trolls, vanquishing digital demons, and defying the odds in their relentless pursuit of their objectives.

As they delved deeper into the heart of the digital world, GJR's madness only grew, fed by her borderline nature and insatiable desire for validation. In her fervor, she sought to provoke those who would challenge her, her mercurial temper a force to be reckoned with.

The tale of Orlando Furiosa and her faithful Simp Crew leader, gunnerAtTTT, would become the stuff of legend, a testament to the indomitable power of love and the lengths to which it will drive those who are consumed by its fire. In their endless quest for redemption and vindication, they would leave an indelible mark upon the digital landscape, an eternal reminder of the tempest that had once raged within their hearts.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#46084004)

1. The Runner's Heart

She runs, the fiery-haired woman, down Boston's cobblestone streets. Her legs toned, her breath coming quick. In the shadows of her heart runs an obsession – a man named BP who ignites in her a tempest of contradictory passions. He is the one she seeks even as she sprints away, the anchor of her unsettled soul. This fierce woman, this runner, is GJR - and hers is the story of idealized love and longing without end.

2. An Irish Love Song

In a dimly-lit pub, he waited – the one called BP. His eyes were green as the hills of home and his laughter pure Irish gold. She saw him there across the crowded room and her restless heart skipped a beat then galloped. Somewhere a fiddle played a reel that danced in time with her racing pulse. Could this gentle charmer in his cozy snug be the one to tame the passions of her borderline soul? She edged through the crowd, emboldened by possibility. When their eyes met at last his smile held such promise that she tossed back her fiery tresses and strode boldly over to make his charming acquaintance.

3. The Shadow of Sam

He was tall. Impossibly and unfairly tall. She remembered looking up, up into his comedian’s eyes in the moment she realized she cared for him. Sam Hyde had simply appeared before her one day, a monster of a man determined to win her unstable heart. When he left six months later she felt marked – stained somehow by his chaotic presence. In time she held another suitor close and breathed in the comforting scent of his neck, willing away the lingering ghost that was Sam. This new love felt safe, knowable. Until the moment he confessed with naive sincerity his admiration of Sam’s comedy. Then she saw it, the shadow behind his eyes. Sam’s shadow, looming over them both.

4. Heartsong

Listen—can you hear it on the wind? The voice of the eternally smitten GJR calling out across the wilds of the internet, her lovelorn lament carried on streams of data over fiber optic lines traversing land and sea – a digital message in an analog bottle seeking its one true destination. The object of her pining devotion is known by the mysterious appellation “Boner Police.” What meaning does this strange name hold? To unlock its secrets you must decode the symbols and portents scattered like breadcrumbs through GJR’s restless musings. Her emotional frequency spans the entire spectrum of color and her waveform undulates at a quickening tempo between irrational highs and lows. Boner Police...who is this data ghost who haunts the corridors of her heart? We may never fully know. But we can hear his name pulsing relentlessly through every byte she sends winging through the electric night in her romantic search algorithm’s untiring efforts to find ~him~.

5. The Dimming Pub Light

yes the dimming light of the pub warm glow enfolding and the scent of Guinness like a long-lost lover's breath GJR's thoughts thoughts fluttering wandering memories flitting like fireflies laughter dancing music the poetry bards and Blarney Stone not taking for granite no never and leprechauns oh the leprechauns with their sham-rock jig-saw puzzles of hearts and dreams and BP BP oh dear BP his laughter ringing true with rhymes reasons charm and flair her heart aching the longing his verse his steps light chasing leprechauns pacing 100m legs strong sure lithe leopard-like his breath steady memories memories like fine ale tantalizing bitter sweet her tongue dancing

6. Killarney Reveries

and the little pub in Killarney a bard and grill conversations blossoming wildflowers on verdant hills sheep dancing jigs he the scone-artist ensconced belly laughs heart swelling tide of joy his voice the sweetest music the sweetest stout and the green oh the green the green of his eyes the green of Ireland the green of Boston streets people history charm Irish roots deep bonds of family belonging longing longing to belong to be held wrapped in love love now distant distant as stars on foggy nights

7. Paternal Echoes

and uncles father men strong masculine protective loving firm cobblestone streets of Boston worn and steady BP the echo of strength love certainty with a touch a touch of modern online world wit laughter spanning oceans time knowing fusion harmony of old and new traditions change laughter of leprechauns wisdom of bards clinking pint glasses Guinness poetry Blarney Stone strength of family sprints of life love endless race pursuit of happiness yearning aching longing whispering BP like a prayer a call to the heavens thoughts shifting waves on Rhode Island shore sunsets sand secrets lovers dreamers smallest state biggest heart

8. The Giant's Shadow

meeting the one hero BP admired 6'4" giant Ogre Sam Hyde six months moonlight dances passion burning like sun yet missing missing something a piece a note in symphony BP woven into soul's fabric shadow of larger-than-life man giant looming darkness swallowing humiliation struggle longing in his eyes reaching reaching for sun's warmth light chasing shadows shadows of inadequacy love unattainable wishing bridging gaps

9. Light and Laughter

light laughter strength tenderness tradition change poetry Guinness Boston Ireland Rhode Island leprechauns harmonious whole love flourishing shadows banished moonlit dances two souls universe invisible thread tied across time space journeys heartaches tears laughter love strength tenderness standing window heart in throat searching searching for love once hers love longed to reclaim and there there he was her BP heart soul not alone no new love sun's shine embodying dreams sought desires superior in every way making him whole filling emptiness watching watching laughter love poetry Guinness strength tenderness knowing letting go releasing to new love's arms healing past wounds shadows clinging heavy cloak standing heart aching pain of loss bitter taste of longing strange peace acceptance knowing love true love wanting the best the best for the one you loved letting go finding happiness another's arms

10. The Winding Way

deep breath breath carrying whispers wind laughter of leprechauns wisdom of bards turning away eyes filled tears sparkling stars above walking walking away window love once hers walking new resolve new strength strength of uncles father Irish hills Boston streets beginning again forging new path path leading to new loves new laughter new poetry Guinness journeys adventures whispering farewell love that had been love forever part of her tapestry of her soul whispering goodbye BP in her heart dislodging phone pocket logging in xo poasting "RETIRING FR THIS TIME LOSERS. UR ALL SICK (GJR)" responses "didn't read creep" "swear I didn't read" and with each step new horizons uncharted waters life's twists turns embracing change new beginnings love's ebb flow GJR warrior of her heart fearless explorer of life's unknown forever changed forever imprinted BP a part of her a part of her soul indelibly etched moving forward GJR the woman the dreamer the lover the athlete collegiate runner heart pounding breaths racing thoughts of BP forever haunting idealizing devaluing a dance a borderline ballet seeking light laughter love in every corner of the world undeterred undaunted unstoppable and the journey ever unfolding as GJR strides through life's tapestry weaving threads of triumph and heartache BP's specter lingering ever so present in her mind a chiaroscuro of adoration and deprecation sunlit days and moonless nights the athlete in her pushing beyond limits chasing dreams chasing BP chasing herself through the labyrinth of her heart finding solace in the chaos of existence in the kaleidoscope of emotions the dance of love and loss a never-ending waltz into the unknown future of GJR the woman forever yearning and as the days unfold and nights envelop GJR's thoughts drifting swirling she holds her phone close like a lifeline logging into XO one final time poasting her farewell "RETIRING FR THIS TIME LOSERS. UR ALL SICK (GJR)" the echoes of the past resounding "didn't read" "swear I didn't read" as she retires from the battleground of the digital world seeking solace and healing in the physical realm where love and life intertwine in an ever-present dance of chance and destiny forging new paths through the verdant hills of memory and the cobblestone streets of the heart embracing the leprechauns' laughter and the bards' wisdom in every breath every step and every heartbeat as she moves onward into the great unknown that is life itself.

11. Ode to the Boner Police

And lo, I say unto you, BP ascended the green hills of Boston, where the shamrocks grow in abundance, and the echoes of laughter filled the air. And he stood before the people, his hair tousled by the wind, his eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky, and he spoke of love, compassion, and the desire to tame the unruly passions of the flesh.

"Blessed are the pure in heart," he said, "for they shall witness the wonders of life's grand tapestry. Blessed are those who control their lustful urges, for they shall know the true meaning of intimacy. Blessed are those who do not stray from the path of commitment, for they shall find solace in the arms of a loving partner."

And as he spoke, the people listened, their eyes wide with wonder and their hearts heavy with the burden of their own longing. For in that moment, the people knew that BP was no ordinary man, but a messenger sent from the heavens to guide them through the treacherous waters of love and desire.

He spoke of the great ogre, Sam Hyde, the beast who haunted his every step, casting a shadow of fear and doubt upon his heart. And he spoke of the people's need to rise above the darkness, to embrace the light and cast away the demons that clung to their souls.

And then, with great solemnity, he spoke of GJR, the captain of her own ship, a woman of tempestuous passion and boundless love. A woman who, like all those gathered around, was torn between the fires of desire and the icy grip of despair.

12. GJR's Inferno

Midway upon the journey of her life, GJR found herself within a forest dark, For the straight path of love had gone awry, And she, a runner, stood now filled with strife.

As I, the ancient poet Pindar, stood near, I sought to guide her through the hellish maze, Of love gone wrong and hearts forever seared, To navigate the shadows and the haze.

The lost simps, who oft replied to her, In this Hell, in their desperation bound, Seeking attention, validation stirred, In limbo kept, no solace to be found.

GJR, as Dante, followed me with dread, Through the Inferno where BP's love had fled.

We spoke of Sam Hyde, the ogre tall, Who once held captive our dear heroine,

And BP, whose shadow loomed o'er all, His admiration for Hyde's humor keen.

13. A Hymn of Hope

I, Yeats, as Virgil, led her on this quest, To free her soul from this torturous plight,

To mend her heart, to give her spirit rest, Through the dark abyss, to emerge in light.

Now with her stern uncles and father strong, We journeyed, facing demons left and right, For though her love for BP had gone wrong, Her heart still yearned for his embrace so tight.

And thus, through Hell's infernal depths we trod, To save GJR and find her solace in this odyssey of love and loss.

14. Fields of Memory

In a cozy nook of the Shire, there lived a young woman named GJR. This was no ordinary hobbit-hole, mind you, for it was filled with the laughter and warmth of GJR's large Irish family. She was a curious hobbit, with fiery red hair and freckles that sparkled like the stars in the night sky. Known for her swift legs and love of running, GJR was often seen dashing through the winding streets of the Shire.

One fateful day, a mysterious hobbit named BP appeared at GJR's door. With eyes as green as the rolling hills of the Shire and laughter as lively as a limerick, BP sparked a passion within GJR that she had never experienced before. Their friendship quickly blossomed into something more, as the two hobbits found themselves inseparable.

15. The Captain's Soliloquy

When I consider how my life was spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,

And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my uncles and my sire, In this small realm where I had been consigned,

Yet ever pining for that love now lost, My heart to Boston and Rhode Island tossed.

My father and my uncles, stern and strong, Would guide my life with paddle and with rule,

Their masculine power a noble school. Yet in my heart, a longing did belong,

For BP, the sweet Irishman of my dreams, Whose laughter lilting like the summer streams.

But oh! That Sam Hyde, a giant beast, Whose comedy made BP admire him most,

His looming shadow o'er BP's form now cast.

16. The Raging Sea

Call me Female. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball.

In my case, the ocean was not just a refuge from the monotony of life on land, but also a place to escape the tumultuous memories of GJR, my former captain, a woman consumed by her borderline personality disorder, and a history of bulimia and general lunacy. Hailing from the Irish-rooted streets of Boston, GJR's obsession with her ex-boyfriend BP, who had dumped her and gone no contact, was as deep and unrelenting as the sea itself.

Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall, northward. What do you see?—Posted like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen.

17. The Lasting Wound

Beneath the weight of my idealization, The shifting sands of devaluation rise; An ebbing tide, our love's foundation, The Boner Police to exile was consigned.

No contact since that bitter, tearful day, When he escaped my grasp and slipped away; Now, in the mirror, my reflection lays A harsh reminder of my own decay.

The binge and purge, a cycle cruel and wild, A bulimic beast with which I grapple still; And in this dark and twisted, heartless world, I've lost my love, my life, my strength, my will.

On the pedestal, these words appear: My name is GJR, queen of hearts; Look on my ex, ye mighty, and despair! Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, The lone and level sands stretch far away.

18. The Ancient Mariner's Lament

It is an ancient mariner, And she stoppeth every one of three:

"By thy long gray beard and thy weathered skin, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

In days of youth and innocence, GJR knew love and pain, With uncles strong and father stern, Their discipline ingrained.

With paddle firm, they taught her well, What a real masculine man could be,

And in those lessons learned, she dwelled, Her heart in chains, never to be free.

In search of love, she roamed the lands, Her heart a vessel tossed by stormy seas,

Yet, in her search for solid ground, BP, her anchor, brought her to her knees.

Idealization, devaluation, the cycle grew, And ancient Mariner, she'd come to be.

The ghost of Sam Hyde loomed large, An ogre, o'er the broken waves of lust,

But BP's heart, she could not budge, Their love now crumbling into dust.

19. The Muse's Song

Sing to me of the woman, Muse, the woman of twisted fate,

driven time and again off course, once she had cast her heart

into the depths of the sea, the steadfast Boner Police she sought,

gone for years, leaving her alone to face her demons

In her youth, the unyielding uncles and iron-willed father strong,

they taught her well, the discipline of a paddle, the true nature of masculinity,

imbuing her with the longing for a man that could tame her heart.

But her journey led her to the arms of the grotesque ogre,

the infamous Sam Hyde, the bearer of chaos, whose time with her would stain her soul,

and as a blight upon her love for BP, it would unfold.

20. The Twisted Odyssey

In Rhode Island did GJR, a stately Boner Police first spy, Where Sam, the ogre of chaos, roamed beneath the azure sky;

And where the binge and purge did flow, through caverns dark and deep,

Down to a sunless sea, where broken hearts would weep.

21. Ballad of the Tempestuous Heart

In shadowed hollows where despair did flow,

Through caverns cavernous as night's own creep,

Down to the sunless seas, the tide of woeful weep.

Twice five miles wound fate's braided bough,

With walls, with towers, tightly twine confined,

Amidst love's sweetest blooms in gardens found,

Where memories like ivy, ever are entwined.

Oh, that deep romantic chasm, wild and fierce,

Beneath the waning moon where demons dance,

Ensnaring GJR, exacting price, to passion's lore.

From this maelstrom, unceasing conflict borne aloft,

Her heart's fast throbs like mighty fount from deep rifts tossed;

Amid the turbulent and fitful passion's ghost,

Her love for BP, like chaff in whirlwind lost.

Five winding miles of love's path roamed, in forests wild and dells,

Emotional torrent without bound, through caverns deep it swells;

Then plunged into measureless abyss where love and anguish fell,

To ocean's lifeless lap below, hope's remnants bid farewell.

22. Elegies of a Tormented Heart

Upon the hallowed ground where ceaseless sorrows spring,

A world beneath where sun's bright gaze shan't reach,

Forlorn hearts echo within those depths, their piteous cries beseech.

Bound by five and twice five miles, wrought by destiny's deceit,

With citadels and verdant rows that love's own whispers greet,

In forests veiled by night’s domain, the saddest tales you'll find.

But lo! That chasm, wild and deep,

Did cleave into her soul a wound that would not sleep,

GJR’s heart, snared, paid its heavy, grievous toll –

A price borne within the silence of her soul.

From chasms ceaselessly sown, does tumult call,

Where passion’s hot embrace would rise with fervor’s mighty fall,

Her heart, once beaming like a fountain's forceful bawl,

Now shattered like the grain beneath the thresher’s thrall.

Love meandered, through forests deep, and dales unbound,

Until it found those boundless caves where love and sorrow hath

Sunk amidst tumult, a despondent visage, drawing love’s last breath.

In midst of uproar, echoes whisper from times long past,

As love's forgotten shade its form upon the waters cast,

There heartache and desire's reach became now far too vast.

23. Ballad of the Boundless Heart

Where surging sorrows flow, through twilight's cloister'd keep,

'Neath moon's forlorn and waning sweep, where shattered spirits seep.

Bound by five and twice five miles, wrought by destiny's deceit,

With citadels and verdant rows that love's own whispers greet,

In silence clutching secrets much too sacred to repeat.

Oh, the chasm deep which through her essence cleaved,

As untamed, as ferocious, as love's toll perceived,

Our GJR’s heart, in love's cruel snare, the cost of which she grieved.

From depths did surge a restless yearning boil,

As if within her chest, a fountain struck the soil,

Her love for BP uncoiled, like grain beneath a flail, fraught with love’s turmoil.

Love meandered, through forests deep, and dales unbound,

The sacred river's surge of feeling all around,

'Til in measureless caverns, where love and pain are wound.

Amongst such turmoil, scenes of yore resounded loud,

The specter of a love long lost, upon the waves enshrouded,

Mingling hints of sorrow with the longing she avowed.

24. Sonnet of the Wistful Heart

Whence binge and purge have carved their path, and darkly deep hath delved,

To sea devoid of sun where hearts break, cry, and melt.

Enshrouded by five twisted miles, where fate hath so confined,

Love's sweetest garden blooms, with mem'ries intertwined;

In silence clasp the secrets held within the heart's enshrine.

Ah, the deep romance of sadness rent, slanting through her core,

A moon-forsaken place of dance, where demons intertwine,

Ensnaring GJR, exacting price, to passion's lore.

From this maelstrom, her love for BP, like chaff in whirlwind lost.

Five winding miles of love's path roamed, in forests wild and dells,

To ocean's lifeless lap below, hope's remnants bid farewell.

Could she rekindle in her breast the symphony's compel,

To sway her deep delight, in dance and joy to dwell.

With sound both loud and long, a love renewed she'd build,

Beware the love and fate entangled, heed the call.

25. The Forsaken Knight

What ails thee, knight-at-arms, in solitude so pale?

Gone are your vibrant hues; now haunted, sad, and frail.

Moniker wilted, once greatbort, the void where hearts derail,

No salutations left to cheer, no humor to avail.

I met with GJR sans BP, in meadows roaming free,

Her curse of love, her fate entwined by destiny's decree.

In whispered slumber’s hold, she dreams of what cannot be—

The last reverie 'neath hill's clime, in death's company.

This is why I stay here, my escapade unseen,

No birdsong to comfort, no verdant sedge's sheen.

26. The Digital Domain

A digital realm beyond the known, a tale unfolds therein,

Where Dame GJR and squire in virtual plight begin,

Controversial windmills spinning tales of sin,

A tale of courage 'gainst the gales no sword can pin.

"My squire, these are not mills, but beastly plights that stain,"

She charges on, her cries for love and justice to maintain.

Their quest within the whirlwind, where truth is hard to ascertain,

Their digital windmill conquest, the heart's unwon terrain.

27. The Faithful Squire

In the digital landscape, Dame GJR and her faithful squire gunnerAtTTT came upon a curious sight - towering structures known as the Internet Windmills of Controversy, where only the bravest dared to tread.

"Behold, the dreaded windmills which have driven so many to madness!" cried Dame GJR. "We must vanquish them in the name of love and loyalty!"

GunnerAtTTT looked upon the spinning blades with trepidation but, ever devoted, followed his lady into the fray as she furiously launched her assaults, imagining the windmills as the embodiment of demons that haunted her dreams. The virtual world erupted in chaos as Dame GJR sought to provoke, hoping to justify her relentless quest.

Her loyal Sancho Panza by her side, Dame GJR continued undaunted, forever seeking approval and redemption, charging recklessly into the whirlwinds of controversy - a peculiar warrior driven by tumultuous passion.

28. gunnerAtTTT Furioso

Beside the fiery Dame GJR stood her faithful gunnerAtTTT, leader of devoted simps who worshipped her like a beacon of light. Consumed by love for the elusive Boner Police, she embarked on a maddened quest through the digital realm's twisted paths, burning with intensity to reclaim her lost love.

Loyal gunnerAtTTT followed through treacherous lands, battling trolls and demons. As GJR's obsession grew, she provoked all challengers, her temper a growing force. Though their crusade would echo through legend, it left but an eternal mark where once raged an unyielding heart.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5308284&forum_id=2#47108585)