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TOO SHORT: DID READ

I never asked for a difficult, boring life, and I'm determined not to have one.

I'll do what I have to do to survive, then I will help others achieve the same. Until then, if you want the rainbow, you will have to put up with the rain.., the reign of terror that is. Not my terror mind, I'm a lovely guy, wouldn't hurt a fly or force it to wear a novelty tie. I'm talking about somebody else's reign of Terrence, that involves him and his wife - the rein dear. Sleigh bellends are ringing, probably the Prince Albert piercing. But since when did Albert Pierce become a singer? And linger around the music industry like a bad smell... being a tribute act for... another tribute act... surely that is the lowest of the low? The Nietzlawest of them all... He eats slowest, taking an hour to scoff half a pizza... For reals man! As real as Real currency that's covered in currents, currently.. and thyme.. this time and every other single time... This line is lined with rhymes, all inside the mind of a namiac... Namely its survival of the fittest, but I ain't the ittiest bit strong, somewhere along the line I got it wrong like when we played Jenga in Mensa, immense tense occasion like when a doctor penctomised a patient... Impatiently. Ha Ha Hee Hee, laughs and Hoo Ha's, I rue the day that I ever met Barbara, she was always eating rhubarb and watching The Wire... That never happened, its all false, but the depiction of fiction was true... I said it with enough conviction and jurisdiction to follow it through... A mixture of conjecture, so don't let a little Nietzlawe lecture upset you... Strap yourself and your elf in and brace yourself, like your crooked teeth... Let me keep this blog fucking brief, in case some folk shout 'TL:DR' from the rooftops... Ah fuck em, let em on their merry way, we don't need them anyway... We just need the creator and the loyalists to soil this collective pair of underpants that we're all wearing... People probably came here expecting something revolutionary, some people probably just came here... spilling seed... still addicted to copious amounts of weed and other assortments of plant... like Tulips, the only way you can inhale that is through those two lips stuck on your face that do too much talking and nowhere near enough listening and reading... Don't fret this ain't a diss, this is an insecure blog swimming in sweat and piss... Now how about we kiss and makeup? Or wear makeup and then kiss? Or piss all over the fish that wore the O'Ring Gag. And subscribed to Shark Magazine rounds from the tip of a magnum P.I. double the Charlton Heston... How many lessons am I going to teach to out of reach people in order to successfully beat evil? Even though these words are sicker than the darkest [or lightest] recesses of your mind... So you block it all out, paper over the cracks using a picture frame with an image of the cracks, which makes the cracks look like deliberate, delicious art... Yet the real thing is underneath, only really waiting to be discovered after your death... Art is a beautiful ting, said the Irish man, right before he popped his clogs with a sharp needle... And here I am thinking all the hissing was pure scorn for his shit work... You try and do it better, fool! There are a lot of people quick enough to jump to conclusions and become critics, slamming, ridiculing, undermining, yet can't even criticise their own flaws and weaknesses and tributaries that seep out of them. I don't want to be hypothetical anymore, I'd rather just be pathetically poetic, a philosophiser like Boethius. Nietz shoots from the hip equipped with a hundred quips, as quick as the sand that sunk you to your rib... cage. I'm cagey.

Life is full of ups and downs, you only live once, put as much of yourself out there as you can... Why not? Don't die alone and in silence, sound off the sirens, but never once resort to any kind of violence. Except Kind Violence, otherwise known as tough love, tuff luv to the slang enthusiasts.