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

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Hot Off De Press

2016-05-03 05:25:06 by nietzlawe

HOT OFF DE PRESS

Help is not always at hand. Sometimes the cure is worse than the disease. Or so we were told by these psychopaths. Sold a lie. No allies.. except Eliza Doolittle. Who has done little to convince me otherwise. And Vince was conned too, as always. Neither of us were able to open our eyes to this charade. Shady characters. Hades. Other Dark Actors who certainly weren't dark-skinned as the gavage would have you believe. Its time for you to walk through my hallway and experience the thoughts that run through my head all day long.

Where do the thoughts come from? Outer Space? Innie Belly? The Tacky Taco? Why has Jacqueline taken my cello? Donner meat, Prima. Man in his prime, or out of his pine tree? Some things are best left private, like taking opiate and hoping you see gold in the wind. cold, but adrenaline is the only thing that gives an Old King his own wings. And wind chime chills. Spill thine guts to the day I die. They say I'm nuts. Think I'm cracking up... Say what you must, but I can't inhale your musk from behind this mask. This tenacity was built to last. This music has me pumped like a steroid junkie. But I wouldn't say that while he is staring me in the face because its scary to square off against this round-headed Cavalier. Maybe I should run and hide in the Caribbean, surviving on nothing but carrots, cabbage and beans. Cowardice is how it is. Yellowbelly. That'll be the stomach jaundice tal... rumbling. The only stumbling block is these Tumblrs taking over and staking claims to the landscape. I still think man is a damn ape in a modern spacesuit. While the people around are just tryna keep pace. 90% of us are a waste, not here to be aesthetically pleasing but pathetically hateful. It's a shame that the world is full of idiots.

I'm on the fence so no need to spend money to protect myself with exorbitant defence spending. I live in a can't-we-all-be-friends? ideology. S.T. Range Psychology. Nobody cares enough. We're all ducking and shirking our duties, afraid to flirt with Danger. Stood scared in a corner of the room and its absurb to think that you might summon the courage to say some words. But this trip was a one-way ticket. There is no turning back as you burnt your tack when you used words as an attack mechanism.

So that's what happened during the Great Plague of Blackburn. You just had to be there, it was great, it was awesome. Sick of an upbringing that involved bringing up sick? Learning curve bwoy. Earn your stripes by learning how to wipe your ass before you're even alive. LIVE AT BIRTH. Man what a show that was! Its just a shame that I didn't remain a tadpole, then I could have gone down with the ship. Instead I'm sat here digging for solutions to problems that shouldn't exist. Whipping myself.

But I know its not impossible to blossom before being quashed by the authoritarian cherry and Bavarian giants. Not scared of anything that can be unearthed. I'm no barbarian, or an alien being stared at through vivarium glass. I'm no Bearded Dragon. Just a fully-grown weirdo with his own hopes and dreams...

... And occasional madness. Occupational hazard. Mild hiccups, legs in stirrups. Hope things will pick up before I get picked up like gripper rods, aS I feel like I've just tripped on one. LiS. How come people with NCD (non-obsessive compulsive disorder) and PANDD (perfect attention non-deficit disorder) are not stigmatised and generalised against? That's one more for the brain to ponder. But it just wanders and absconds without prior approval from Richard.

That's rich coming from you, bwoy. Why do you keep calling me bwoy? Because you enjoy annoying me, by toying with my emoticons? As Tearful as teats, or Ode to a Nightingale by John. Every night we wail enough hailstones to set sail for Australia. Then participate in an absurd hostage video like Depp and Heard to satiate their own hedonistic urges. It could have been worse, could have been a sex tape. Why apologise when it's just some hollow lies where you've been forced to swallow pride?

2016 - Everybody's business is everybody's business. Everyone in each other's pockets all day long. People have grown taller than the walls of their garden. Nosey parkers need to get their noses rose-bloodied by Joseph Parker. The incident joked about by Rose Mata.. feo. Get the Geo Group involved, so they can put a chip inside your neocortex. If we all learned to become more self-depreciating, then no insult could be offensive. No need to put up the fences.

Ever since the beginning of human beings, there has been offensive. I'm not willing to become part of the first generation that can't be allowed to say what every other person in human history was able to say openly.

I think the majority of humans aren't materialistic, it's just a habit that's inherited where people seek refuge and association with comfort. Materialism is comfort, but not happiness. If you let materialism get inside your head you'll realise that it drives a wedge between you and your fellow man. A hedge. An immersive cocoon.

Maybe you should belittle tall people and make them feel small... people. Full circle, like a Witch congregation and the sound of cackling. This is cack, borrowed time that I'll never get back. Masterclass or just a Class A masturbation drug? My own biology has used psychology to swallow me whole and force me to wallow in this lonely state of mind for eternity.. forever staring at fraternity tits. Its a vicious liquidised cycle of Desmond Pair. All I have is this Gabriel Faure music to distract me from my poor state of mind. Even the State can take the moral high ground. One day my life will slowly ebb towards its conclusion, at peace. Everything that happened during existence just a passing blur, no longer my responsibilité... What was it all about? Why do I even care? Why were we here? Why did that Russian scientist take off a dog's head? Why o Terry Why did I eat two Snickers in the blink of a nigh? Why did I link up words that don't even rhyme? Why do I still have a delinquent mind? What is even the thinking behind this curtain of linguistical crime? So much ink.. so little time to empty litres of this light-hearted Beta programming. Streets ahead but still feel like I've been beaten about the head with broken bottles and hospitalised. Leave this one with us, we'll fix him up with Nurse Cruci. She will subject him to cruelty and fool him into thinking he is truly free, when in fact he's never been in charge, stepping outside his own body and left his slippers at the door, which others have slipped on as they came into the room to deliver a mild sedative and some semolina. Lie there as the demons and scaled beasts enter through the small slit in his penis... I should have seen this burglary cumming. But di'n't as some Americanos would say without pronouncing the second D. Never mind me, I'm prone to outbursts of stupidity, and this Brit's humour is not everyone's cup of tea. Somme Say he is two cups short of a teabag. Not True Man! How dare you stain my rep which is already dead and in tatters, a catastrophic madness. Dogastrophic. Dogma and Karma = Self Harm. Pardon? That doesn't hold true. Don't get mad at me just because nobody holds you at night? A Scientist spending all of his life at work instead of at home being jerked off by his wife. He doesn't appreciate her, to him she's just a mass of cells and atoms, he can't distinguish from his work, it has him flummoxed and unable to tolerate normality again. But shit happens. For a reason.

Time to get chin fooked like Chun Li while visiting the Hun 650 times in week. I'm getting by with my Wicked Leaks! Incorporating sordid business and using my sword to fuck shit up more than a swear word. Cursing... I curse the day I ever dodged a curveball and made love to the colour purple. Somme Say that's not feasible, that the feat is an impussybility. But anything you put ya mind to you can achieve. If you don't believe me just ask Jeeves. Meh, people stopped asking Jeeves long ago, the Pupil People's turned their spines away from him many a Christmas ago. YARGHHH! Me thinks Jeeves is peeved off, like Christopher Reeves when he fell off that horse. The world can switch on tragedy in an instant. Click your fingers and someone has probably died. Dyed their hair purple. Purple Rain. Nipple twister. You'd have to be a twisted individual to yank my nipplets and cause a ripple of excitement in my man boobs. Freaky Tah... they need to send Nietz to speech training. That's if they can even reach him in the first place. Usually he's switched off, unwinding, alone and blind in his own hideout. Tied down to projects 24/7 while spraying produce and praying to nobody because he has no faith, and isn't afraid to meet Satan on a cold winter's night. All death is is blanked out nothingness, quite relaxing really, which is why nobody should fear whatever happens during this very small window of time that we experience as a living being. Laugh at yourself, laugh at others... laugh at your mother for she raised you but never praised you enough, so you fell off the rails, smelt the salt and tear gas, dark thoughts cascading, but castration is never an option. Everybody is flawed, don't feel guilty about your own, you already live in a mad world where the majority are fucked up, even if in small doses... Nobody has the upper hand, or the lower foot we are all deserving of a second chance. Even Jackie Chan's got offshore shit. But Police Story was a great film, so... Cunning Stunts. Whatever happened to Madley Branning? The last I heard he fell deeply madly in love with Dakota Fanning. Highly strung like top-floor cotton. I've forgot what I was about to say, sometimes my mind wanders, it strays.. then a minute later will say things seemingly dreamlike in comparison, a stream of nonsense, a goblet of Maurice Gibberish. Quite dapper for a dishevelled man in a hovel writing to get you clapping. I'm never happy except when I'm slapping taste out of your gums, or having my face slavered in a Slavic Goddess's goodness. Should update my music collection instead of using my erection for evil intentions.

Try hard to write things that light up hearts and minds. Lines of art until you get arthritis in your arms and eyes. Arthur Conan O'bRyan. Under a hermit's tunic, picking apart the truth with a toothpick. Raising taboos and issues that are too sick for others. Either I'm mad or stupid, or just have deeply-rooted sadness inside of my soul that I can't share, so I lie and stare at the ceiling letting the congealed fat build until the concealed facts are common knowledge. No longer a covert operation. But a sobering lesson, as raw as Soviet aggression. Life is a test, a game of endurance, an Endurex. Yet we humans are too protected. Sheltered from the sweltering heat. Was only at my best once I fell to my knees and started to depreciate the self. Found it Riddick Cool to insult myself, instead of safe and insulated I became a hateful figure, insolent and unafraid to launch these words of affray... which only represent a frame of mind. Capital punition. Mindless munitions brought into fruition. Atomic, foul-mouthed Bernard. The Swiss banks of Bern, embezzlement draining our lifeforce through nozzles. What will it take to achieve the impossible? What will it take to get Jeeves back on the map? Who wants to list their pet peeves? Who is pissed their pet peed on the floor? Not me coz I'm the gingerbread man and I can sock it to Ingsoc and run like the wind while eating Findus crispy pancakes and they'll never find us as we'll hide in the best spot. The Doldrums. Eating the last of the stale mango before Helly Hansen could reach it the old bearded fucker. Weird as a Narconon... As weird as me harping on about it, like HAARPer's Island. An island entirely dedicated to harpists. Music as calm and soothing as lying against Carmen Electra's boobies. Noharmen that. Except the PC that went mad.. arrest him then say it was all in jest, just giving me enough time to flee West and end up on the scene of a Bonanza episode. Like a lone tranny Bonnie and Clyde. I want to go out in style and ride this train to the grave. I'm fed up of everyday rainy Eng-er-lunt. Shit Same Daze Different, news following the same trend, when will this endlessly draining episode reach its finale? When will the final nail be driven in my coffin? After drinking 600 bottles of fine ale? That's been pissed in with finesse by a lady in a Lacoste jacket? I don't like ale, it pales in comparison to pale ale. My life is just stale bitter.

We can't recover, we can't be resusci... tated. Today we are going to talk Pacifically about Oceans. But not Billy because I hardly knew him. We go back a long way... of not knowing each other. It would be silly for me to insinuate our long history of notknowyness. It would be a cruel blow like being ballbusted by Penelope Cruz then enveloped under her boobs. Taken under her wing so to speak. But how can you speak when you're underneath her leaking bazookas? The penny has dropped and now I'm under Cruz control. Rolling under her cunt hole. This blog has already plunged the depths, like sinister celebrity deaths. It must be the prescription drugs, and addiction sucks dick. It's fucked up to be affiliated with such shit.

There is a limit to one person's ideas, and once they have exhausted them, they are yesterday's news. Everybody has a shelf life and a shelf of ideas, and once the shelf is empty, the self is empty. Thus I fear myself is empty.

My life is just a gaussian curve until the flatline.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsuN-71F5cA


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