Josh C.O.B.R.A. is the ultimate. 991129
Lyndsay the people you pretend to hate but admire more than anyone else in the world, because you would give anything to have the power that they have over you. 991212
camille one that is opposed to one's self
the opposite of love
brad I don't have any enemies... I am too nice. Besides, I like Mr. Rogers neighborhood. That theme music is really swell... great musicianship. 000308
birdmad Damian...fucker 000501
Zoe i know this might seem shallow, but i like to have at least one good enemy. i really start to respect them afer a while. the more enemies i have the more i realize how good my friends really are. 000717
silentbob THE ENEMY

A Bobby Evers Absurdity

"She doesn’t live here, anymore," Chuck said to his sister-in-law. "Stop calling here." He hung up. He knew that at one point the enemy would confront him and eventually, in time, attempt to destroy him. And he knew that at one point he would have to perform a task to prevent the enemy from winning. But first he would have to define who the enemy was. In the mean time, he had a fine raspberry pie in the oven and he was getting hungry.
At night he had frightening dreams of being discovered. And some nights he dreamed that Satan was in his pies. Not the blueberry ones…or the chocolate ones…but the blackberry ones. But some nights he didn’t sleep at all. And Charles wasn’t surprised, either. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for a man pushing 67 to have insomnia. The dreams he had, he could do without. But the insomnia gave him a chance to control his thoughts. Which usually were about Carla.
Carla had always liked to do the same things Chuck had. Baking, reading, watching Matlock and Due South. And they both enjoyed listening to the greats (Mozart, Beethoven, Handel, and even Sousa, though he wasn’t as ancient as the others). But one day about 5 months ago Carla had become very, very sick. She always longed for Death to welcome her into his icy embrace. And a week before, she had.
Charles understood perfectly his wife’s situation and sent her away lovingly. Carla hadn’t wanted her family to know of her illness. "Sending bad news home is worse than having it." She’d said. "They just don’t need to know." So they never told Carla’s family, Chuck’s family, or any of their friends. And when Carla died they still didn’t know. And when they called he just told them she didn’t live there anymore.
Carla and Chuck loved their rose bushes too.
One day it rained. It rained very badly. Chuck had no clue how he was going to go through each rainy day. Carla and he had always played Scrabble on the rainy days when they couldn’t be in the garden. In tears Chuck made a strawberry pie.
Chuck’s back hurt from all the digging he had done recently.
By the time it was done it had stopped raining, or had receded so much that it only seemed like a light trickle. So he decided to go out back and eat the pie in the garden. He peered out the window and gasped to find that Carla’s arm was sticking out of the soil because the rain had washed the dirt away. He remembered Carla’s screams, and her pleas to remove the pillow from her face. And he remembered how he claimed that she was in pain and needed to be freed from misery.
There was a knock at the door.
"Charles Radford, we have a warrant for your arrest. Open up." a voice said.
Chuck couldn’t decide if the enemy was the police or the garden.
mathieu Love your ennemies. 040412
mikejohnson "the enemy of my enemy is my friend"
is quoting a smart guy.
noname i hate you
let me thrust my dagger into your cheek
see the blood and the hole to your tongue warmth fades away and you die
light is extingushed

My enemy is dead
what's it to you?
who go