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

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2014-12-04 18:47:36 by nietzlawe


Halle fucking Lujah. Back to normal, no shoulder pain. It feels so good to be able to write again without thinking my shoulder is going to dislocate. Even eating a full tub of Ben and Jerrys ice cream didn't cause any complications. Bring on the Pringles Texas BBQ. "But Nietz, you can't bring Pringles on stage." -- "I'm not on a stage you daft twit." But the stage is set to sit and sweat some more buckets in this bitter cold UK weather. Dangerous times man, more dangerous than Black Friday. Is it really worth throttling an old man just to get a Blaupunkt telly? That's probably been blown and spunked all over. Its almost as silly as the Naturalist that wasn't scared at being eaten alive by a snake. Why climb inside an Anaconda? OH MY GOD! LOOK AT HER GUT! OH MY GOD! LOOK AT HER GUT! Ana should have absconded and starred in Spectre after bonding with James over a 3-week period. Steady on, not that type of period.. era or epoch. Don't give me that disgusted look like I've just sucked the cock of an Ewok. Its worse than e-pot, a new herbal drug where you lick the monitor screen while its laden with e coli and a suspicious stench of chlorine. A screen that's not been cleaned for 14 years. To the point where its like looking through a foggy cabin window in the miggle of the woods. Its terrible outside! I don't ever want to go out there! "But dude, that's just the Internet." -- "Oh right, I thought it was my living room window." Technology and Reality have intersected, should our eyes be protected from this scary shit. But nothing is more scary than the words MALWARE DETECTED!!! Three exclamation marks to really ram home the message like Busta Rhymes where he butts a ram and the ram goes "Damn" I didn't know that this man had a stronger head than me. A stronger head on his shoulder blades but he's still gonna get hauled away for bloody blue moyder. There was nothing blue about that death except taking the ram's breath away like Berlin. Then watching barely legal porn in the middle of the Berlin and Great Wall of Choyna. Illegally fornicating with a born again Christian while listening to Californication and masturbating using the thorns on Jesus's head to enhance the pleasure of your porn simulation. That's the Dream of a man, to drink her juice like a Tangerine. Damn Janine. She's afraid of belching like Freda Felcher. Janine has 9 lives and a Licence to Kill... time knitting. But that was just a smokescreen for her drug addiction. A fabrication. The fat bitch would use textile tactics. By the evening she was injecting heroin in the arm. Now where's the heroism in that? Hedonism in my metafiction. You should write better fiction instead of depicting ill will and friction. Characters that cannot overcome their flaws and frailties. Ailments, woes that worsen and transform you into a completely different person than the one that started perfect. The deterioration of an individual as they progress through a tapestry of decline. Until they feel like going out on Valentine's Day and massacring 500 people that just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Its a sad turn of events when common sense descends to dementia. Then pretend we couldn't prevent it. His depression was too taboo to mention, as was his drink problem. Isolated little secrets that only seep through the cracks when the siege has happened. Who can you blame for this madness tinged with tragedy and sadness?  Its worse than you could have ever imagined. The Strange Case of a Tormented Man left Abandoned. Suffocated to death, all they found was a bandana up Nicky Minaj's pussy that the man wore while he was enjoying his panoramic view. But at least his final gasps were uploaded to Drew's Script-O-Rama. But "mmmpphhhhmmph" is not proper grammar said the quaint gay Englishman.

Banning facesitting in the UK? Black Friday is more dangerous than facesitting. Maybe political eyes are bad and they thought it said faceshitting. That would be quite bad, nobody wants to choke on a faece. Or even pay a fee to see that shit on a PC in HD with 3D goggles. It would even boggle the mind to Google that gobbledygook and you'd wanna reboot rather than shoot your load to that kind of poop. Boppe de doo, random words that you stop to include, without rhyme or reason, Easter Eggs my ass, more like rants of a panting maniac with crazy addictions, but a Human Almanac at the same time. A juvenile mind rejuvenated and galvanised because of nature's super fruit and this twisted fuck is now alive again, always surviving through deprivation. It takes dark days with a starved brain to start a new train of parfait thoughts, or talk about our pain, which to some is irrelevant and arcane. Mundane some say, but I say who is Somme Say, someday maybe some of these Sommesays will come face to face with the Unknown Quantity. But how many quantities of titties nobody knows. Sounds like the name of a James Bond film. Quantities of Titties. I'd watch it! In 3D so that they pop out of the screen and blind you, but really its just cinema attendants slapping people's faces with tender pieces of rubber and silicon. The Biggest Scam in the annals of Cinematic History. Since that anal doggystyle scene. Which never happened, hence the scam. Nothing happened ever, anywhere at any place or time, everyone remained silent and rooted to one spot.. But nobody spotted that one eye was slightly reading a page from Ham on Rye. Apparently Don McLean was pressed against Bill Withers singing This Will Be the Day I Die... My hair 5 different colours! Like one of those old Fry's chocolate five boys ft. coffee. Don't put coffee inside chocolate you bastards, it'll put me in my coffin, like Coffin Joe who was addicted to smoking, always coughing and hocking up lungs, 5 seperate lungs he had and 12 hearts. Purple hearts probably... I'm not saying he was a druggie, I'm not implying anything except Nothing. I'm just a naughty imp that's lying with a haughty laugh, yet secretly crying inside... Because my eyeballs are inside out. There are so many musings stored in a creche behind my nostrils, stuffed nasal passages. Deep crust pizza... Talking of pizza, they have opened a Domino's not far from where I live. But c'mon man, £10 for a standard margherita. At that price I could buy the Margherita of Savoy and dip her in soy sauce or suck it off her toes. The only problem is that I'm not a fan of honorifics, I find them horrific, its not so bad if my tongue is inside her orifices. Then I can call her Queen and Goddess and other assorted names of pleasurable worship to symbolise my eternal respect for the feminininininininininininnine... But until then I will not submit my soul and buy a pizza for £10. "Ah, that pizza was lovely." He gave in too quickly to Dominos, more like Dominant Pizza. Maybe order from them online... 'We just need to know where you are so we can find your nearest store.' --- "NO! You'll never know where I am! Its a trap! If you want to deliver a pizza to me, leave it by the side of the trash can on Jump Street!" *Cocks shotgun* LEGAL STUFF. Fuck the legal stuff just give me some food so I can stuff myself legally! And end up with a double chin that I have to hide by growing a subtle, yet beautiful goatee. "You really suit the goatee Nietz!" -- "Phew, good job too, this is one double chin you don't want to see!" Why am I fantasising about eating too much pizza and ending up with a double chin that I haven't got yet. Why must I devise such terrifying rhetorical like Glenn Beck? I can write what I want on this page, our freedom of speech still exists. See! When I click submit it says p.... what?!?!? Page not Fucking Found! Somebody find that page!! "But Nietz, we're a little shortstaff..." -- *Grabs Julie by the collar of her trenchcoat* "You Listen to me Julie, I want that fucking page finding. If you have to lift up every rock in this damn city!" -- "Sir, you've lost it! You should go home and get some rest!" -- "Are you telling me how to do my job now Julie, huh?! Find that page." -- "Yes Sir." "And not Ellen Page!!" -- "Yes Sir."

So how did this blog go from tales of shoulder pain, Pringles and Black Friday to Dominant Pizza, double chins and Ellen Page? I interviewed Psychologist Dr. Richard Mythbag for some answers... "So Richard, how do these transformations occur in the first place?" -- "Well N.. can I call you Nietzlawe?" -- "Yeah, sure." -- "Well, Nietzlawe. Jumping from one thought to another in such a rapid fashion is what is known as...... fucking idiocy!" -- "C'mon now Richard, put that gun away! We're all friends here!" -- "We were never friends Nietzlawe! I still remember when you broke my ZX Spectrum!" -- You're crazy, I didn't do anything, put.. the.. gun.. down." -- "I wont dhhpmhh..." Ellen Page turned up and knocked the gun out of his hand. Dr. Richard Mythbag spent the next 20 years rotting away in a Gulag only able to use really laggy Broadband. Took 3 hours just to send a message after clicking the submit button. To wile away the hours he wrote on the wall... in shit. And insisted on having his food checked 27 times per day by a Matronly woman called Leslie. Funny how things turn out. Well not funny really, he is stuck with mega slow broadband. It takes him 6 months just to download an mp3 file... Sad but.. untrue. The things that people do, like peep through iron mesh windows crying injustice. In the end he died of boredom because it pissed him off that the Internet forums wouldn't load up quickly enough. His final act of redemption was to donate £3 to Wikipedia. And then he coiled over and died with a final gargle and a band of musicians playing sad music in the next cell to commemorate his existence. Maybe we can all learn something from Dr. Richard Mythbag... But more than likely we wont learn anything at all because he was fucking tapped in the head. A proper demented fucker. What's worse is that I invented him, so that must make me a super-demented fucker. NEXT LVL NEW WORLD ORDER SHIT! I don't want to be part of the NWO, just let me eat my Dominant Pizza in peace please. Well in pieces really, I can't put the whole thing in my mouth at the same time or it'll look like I'm wearing one of those lip plates. Then the Guinness World Records will turn up and want a photo for the book. "Mlhust mlleam mle malone mlim mtryinml tmlo eat." That's not my attempt at Croatian, I'm just trying to talk with a full pizza in my mouth. A whole leaning tower of abuse... Fuck everybody! I'm off to play my piano with such incredible dexterity and grace and stare into space and mentally enter another place. In truth I will hammer 3 notes of sound that nobody should ever be subjected to. Then slam my fist down on the keys and play a beautiful tune by accident. But my celebrations are shortlived when I realise that the Record button wasn't pressed down. Nooo I screamed to the sky, but then I realised that the Record button WAS pressed down...... But the piano wasn't plugged in at the mains. Oh the pain of it all.

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