Week 6 - Pancakebrah (2-1) vs. NYCSPITZ (2-2) - PANCAKEBRAH WINS BY NO-SHOW

[Mike Wrecka]

http://i.imgur.com/uAJesXX.png
Season 2

Rules

Verse Due Date - Thursday 23:59 PST

Voting Deadline - Sunday 23:59 PST

Line Limits - 16 - 48 Max can be higher if both agree

Voting - Must vote on 3 battles and post voting links in this thread, preferably all in one post.

If you don't vote on 3 battle you will be given a loss. If you lose by votes and don't vote on other battles you receive a one week suspension.


Topic :** You must use this quote as the last line of your verse.**


"Maybe next time, I'll make a right instead of a left"


Good Luck PancakeBrah NYCSPITZ

[PancakeBrah]

We meet again, kemosabe.

I'll be going closer to the max than the minimum.

[NYCSPITZ]

did u j call me a nigger?

[PancakeBrah]

Yes.

Remember the future.

[PancakeBrah]

Asking for extension early NYCSPITZ. I have to do a lot of reading tonight and I'm out of town for work tomorrow

[NYCSPITZ]

word, was logging on to ask the same lol

[PancakeBrah]

Hamlet.

Nothing to see. He had ample neurosis.
He shuffled his feet and sampled the dosage,
holding a picked apart bouquet. A stranger, emoting
with unrequited handfuls of roses, hydrangeas and posies,
as they started to fray. Neither staying or going.
Brown haired and bland. Staid. Laid in a stasis, no motion.
Filling out forms. Faceless. Interesting, but boring.
Lame tasteless prude. With the same face as you,
Refined, but gaudy. 21st century snoring zombie.
A walking grey, beige, and blue origami.
Surfing the same site, just refreshing the page
all night. F5 worn out, each tap repressing a rage
until the next session of 'Day'. Porned out.
Picking between Gianna or 'Gauge: Sex in a Cage"
Between Jack or Jameson. Lessons, or daze.
Pappy Mason in plaid, minus success and vision,
charisma and pay. Picking contacts to text,
and eventually leaving 'Send' unpressed.
An imprint without impression. Joy Division.
Confidently guessing, with no decision.
He's just there. A voided prism.
A Religious man, with no soul within him.
A waste of potential, but not.
Every choice avoided, suspended and stopped,
on his death bed where every breath is a cough
to no audience. His little equity bereft
speaking his last words,
"Maybe next time, I'll make a right instead of a left"