nietzlawe
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Globe of Earlobe
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I am here to make a difference, isn't that why we're all here?

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Nine Tenths

2017-02-18 01:25:54 by nietzlawe

NINE TENTHS

Poetry in motion, Andrew... and you... and you... and you too! I knew this would happen when Cat Deeley was let out of the bag of Pork Scratchings, kitty claws, feel the Buzz, every single lightyear, Kill Da Buzz driver and leave the rest of his passengers as survivors... No harm has to come to pass, no farmer has to be harassed on his own land, for he is only protecting his livestock, it wouldn't be right to pick a fight on this shiddy night, while listening to P.I.M.P. by Fiddy. Now we're fittin' and spazzin' like hearing gurgles under the Dupont Circle. L.A. clé. Do What Thou Say before the day I pass this mass grave. Turn a blind eye and a deaf ear just to climb high to the nebular. Neck chickens like bottles of Cobra, getting drunk and wondering who that Jamaican was in the photograph? That's ya momma's Uncle George, man! He passed from lung cancer. And still asked for a ciggie on his death bed. What a warrior! much better than being a worrier... from Durham, Kent or Surrey. I live in the slums, the slurry, where men have to strum guitars on the town streets for money, and sit outside for weeks begging, yet some of 'em remain bubbly and upbeat. Its funny how some people can cope in the harshest conditions, not reliant on the food banks and the harvest season. If they have nothing on their chests we'll give 'em our vests. Mr. Jimminy Jillickers affiliated with traffickers... Damascus, Spartacus, everyone that's smarter than us, spend our day at Apu's Mart on a booze run while under cruise control like some Leah Remini type shit... Gemini seven eyes all focused on a golden Lotus ready to receive blowjobs, slowly, how low could you stoop to spray Joop aftershave into a midget's face. We regret sayin' that! Let's erase it, its degrading aiming for contradiscriminatory, saying shit without justification... But we must! Take risks like Ang i.e. Wanted who wasn't desired or lusted after, just something for folk to bust nuts to. And eat cashews and bombay mix with sick sadistic fucks fixated on some hate shit, thick haze face in a vape mist. Drink Keo at the Sir Charles Napier, and meet a CEO with BO. Hee haw! Sat in the dark reading a map, we don't need this crap, not when the whole system is about to collapse. Chaps, my mind is about to lapse again, like a Catholic licking Catherine in a confession box, before sucking an Irish priest's cock... Fucking leap year the only thing keeping me sane are these fucking cheap beers!! And the bearded twat spraying Ray Reardon with tear gas... FEAR FEAR FEAR!! You can smell fear, but all I smell is laughter and Luftwaffe birds that love wafting farts in your face. BAST HARDS! Post haste I must get wasted and still have enough speed to taste the delicate parts of fresh flesh. Flesh must get slashed by sadists with canes and whips and James Alefantis must suffer jip in his hip just before he finds Atlantis. Just before he drops bones in the Atlantic Ocean. You up to yo' crazy antics! Bucket list, most of it is probably a fuck it list. Spirit cooking with Village People, snippets of evil, snipping off nipples.... STOP!!!! TOOOOO MORBID!! NEED SOME ATMOS!!! I see a Mike Patton emerging, with this tight vagina, and the oral sex addict suffering an angina attack again!! Life is an illusion, even Lucifer isn't the truth, just some made up loser. A violent pyromaniac. God on the other hand, too hypocritical. What's the matter God, the truth hurt? "He can't hear ya, god his earphones in." Goddamnit this doesn't bode well, no wonder he doesn't hear my prayers. But then again I don't pray so maybe I'm the one to blame there. Pin the blame on me like a tail on a donkey, drunk on Keo... My name is Don Keo, I've just had keyhole surgery in Robert de Janeiro. Sounds sinister. That's because.... it is!!! Almost as sinister as going to the cinema and being the only one there watching the film. Annoying yourself by rustling your own popcorn and coughing every 5 minutes. Shouting "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Before remembering that you are alone and have gone stir crazy. Stirring a pot of that Stir Crazy Stew, maybe one of the ingredients is pot. A bit of Pol Pot and some Genghis Khan. Hmm... missing something, a bit of misogyny, lets add some Henry the Eighth and some fucking hysteria and tyranny. Henry, person of the year! Snuff Box, kill Da Buzz while on Snus as they are hiding on the back of a tour bus. He came and tore into us with his horns like a Taurus and we were hospitalised for 4 months. But what about me?!?! I've got a sore wrist from jerking so hard to Annika Thornquist!! And wankers cramp from Shirley Clamp. I have no energy left to add flangers to my quirky song. Diverse in my perversity, who ever would have thought I once made it into university? Universal controversy, too unconcerned to curtsy or cater to do-gooders that are too good to be true buddies. Image is nine tenths of the law. Heck, just look at Brand Beckham. I'd rather be a bearded twat, alcoholic, eerie, fat bastard addicted to anabolic steroids. Can't be any worse than our counselors being cannibals. What kind of malpractice is that!? And they have the nerve to issue a travelling ban to whoever they feel don't deserve it? Where is the rationale? What next, rationing? The ratcheting up of tension? Not to mention the amount of corpses in our local canals. I can now see a pattern emerging, with the walls closing in, imposing laws from where we go to the clothes we wear. Governments bringing bulldozers in while we're all dozing to make us duller and tolerate bullshit while digging patio holes to throw us in. We are the Nine Tenths bullied by the One Tenth. We are the many birds frighened by the scarecrow. What to do, where to go? The depths that we plummet, so I have to summarise the corruption using drunken propulsions right through until summer. Towards revolt, the only way to solve these problems is to salt these slugs that act like thugs, treating us like we're stupid fuckers. And I've had enough. So better to sit back and kick it, drink some Hop House, write and pop off at the mouth.


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Ten Years From Now Experimental Song
Make Our Way Hip Hop - Modern Song
Walker Mitty Ambient Song

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