Embryo Jesus

My mission is to promote motherhood, children, prayer and Jesus. I began painting religious art after two of my rosaries changed to a gold color.

I felt the need to thank Jesus with my pro-life art.

Each mystery of the rosary has two paintings and a description. Please pray and meditate on the rosary (life of Jesus) every day for the end of abortion. Encourage members of your family to express their feelings about our nation’s greatest sin. Write a letter expressing your feelings to friends, family and political leaders. God is offended by the number of abortions in this very blessed country.

Thank you, Jesus, for the gift of 24-hour Eucharistic Adoration!

GULKGULKGULK

GUIDE IT IN, JEFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Oh how things have changed

Creep it, Helnwein.

New Series

I live for Industrial

“haha it is obvious but i mean i live for industrial and hardstyle but i also love djing drumnbass and electro xP”

-Downhill28

“Hey,

what can I say.. i live for industrial music!!

the loudest, hardest, fastest angriest music you can find… as well as everything alternative electronic..

**industrial/techno/darkwave/noise/ebm/futurepop/synth/digital hardcore etc***

dont mind the occasional stomp, but its just not hard enough ;o)

im always at mis-behaviour, scarlet & other fetish/industrial nights”

-acidburn

“Likes: fire, bondage, vampiritics, music, rope, weaponry, Explosives(particularly LE and pyrotechnics), chinchillas, squishy objects, philosophy, psychology, and various other odd things from the the scary door! I love the grotesque, I believe in today’s day and age It is the perfect subject for art, given the time’s misshapen behavior. I live for Industrial.”

-Demunic

Weekly Steve Vai

Contest!

PRAISE JESUS YOU FUCKFACES

You know this dude is having special meetings and getting poz with other dudes in shitty hotel rooms on a regular basis.

The birth of Dirty Scum.

I had an extremely fucked-up dream last night. I don’t totally remember how it all started, but I had apparently messed around with a sheriff’s daughter and was run out of town. At some point, I gave this really dumb soliloquy about how I was cast out of society, and as a result, I decided to discard my given name and proclaimed that I would be called “Dirty Scum” from now on. It seriously sounded like something from a cheap B movie.

Anyway, the dream fast-forwarded to a party that was going on in a mobile home out in the middle of nowhere. I must have acquired at least one henchman, because there was this HUGE black dude (who resembled Tiny Lister, Jr.) who followed me around all the time. When we got inside, we were hanging out in the kitchen and were approached by some crazy strung-out, haggard-looking, meth-head chick who had a Mason jar and was saying “I bet you won’t hit me with this.” Well, Dirty Scum don’t fuck around, so I grabbed the jar by the bottom and smashed it as hard as I could into her head. It shattered, and the bottom half of the jar was stuck in her head. She laughed and thought it was awesome. Go figure.

There were two guys in the kitchen, and one of them kept being an asshole, and it was getting me really mad. His friend kept trying to defuse the situation, but ol’ Dirty Scum’s temper flared, and that was it. I grabbed the guy around the neck from behind, pulled up his shirt, and with a steak knife that was on the counter, sliced him horizontally in the stomach about six times. His guts fell out, and he landed on the floor in a huge pool of blood. His buddy started freaking out, of course. The last thing I remember is telling the black dude and the meth lady (who had apparently joined our crew by then) to “take care of this piece of shit.” They started getting ready to dispose of the body, and then I woke up.

What was the point? I don’t know. Having a bunch of vodka tonics before going to bed makes you dream some weird shit, I suppose. As violent as it was, I kinda hope I dream about continued adventures of Dirty Scum tonight.