PRIME

I feel I am fast approaching my prime. Primeval that is.

This blog is going to be a short piece. I only want to say that 2009 will be a different set of days. The beginning of a series of steps that will lead down a path to a bookshop. It all ends at the bookshop! Its destiny! I believe in destiny! We are destined to do things! I like exclamation marks!

Seriously though! Its funny how meaningless this blog is right now, and how meaningful it will become. I can't help but laugh at the swarm of flies that gather around a piece of shit. In this case, I'm the piece of shit. I have to be, its worth being this piece of shit though, nothing like leaving a lasting legacy on a deflating Earth. I may as well give one last spark of true creative genius before it disintegrates.

THE PROLIFIC SERIAL BLOGGER

Or should that be "The pathetic serial blogger", *blows dust off the book*. "No I was definitely right, it does definitely say prolific, how did this 1910 bible manage to predict that I would be a serial blogger? or should I say a serial blagger, I like to sit at a table and tell this shit to my Rice Krispies and Corn Flakes."

I am not up there with the most evil bloggers in history just yet, as some of them cunts have a good few hundred blogs to their funny little alias names. I am only on Blog 42, but it is getting to the point where I will write freely and cause an earthquake that will swallow the entire globe, and not just the earlobe. Even the Spies of Algeria aka the GoodBads wont survive this nasty fall.

This shit is music to my ears. There is more than just this little community and it will all fall. As you can see, from number 10 aka the cochlea aka the curly turd.

THE PURSUIT OF CRAPPINESS

Life is all about cheap thrills, little moments of pure unbridled joy. I call this experience "the pursuit of crappiness" because even though they are life's good moments, they are banded about as life's crap moments. Some folks work so hard that they actually surpass their own expectations and forget what it feels like to enjoy the raw stuff.

These folks are in pursuit of happiness so much, that they detract the pleasure part from their job and become drones that have high expectations to live up to, until they have drained the enjoyment out of what they do. Once you have achieved everything, what is there to achieve? You have the money, you have the wife, you have the house, you have the car, you have the career. But so what? Those things are what an omni-present society says you must have. As a good friend of mine once said, "it is down to the PS2 effect, no matter how much you have, you always want more, human beings are greedy by name and greedy by nature to the point where it consumes them unhealthily."

The better option though...... the pursuit of crappiness is a much better road to go on. It is a pursuit where you don't get railroaded into the wrong lifestyle, it is a pursuit where you take things steadily and pick and choose the things you want. But only the crappy things that will make you happy, not the overhyped things that will make you unhappy.

This may come across as total and utter bonkers, it will only make itself more clearer when you stop and stand still, if you don't stop and stand still, you lose the ability to think slowly and you make panicky decisions that you didn't really want to make.

I hope this gibberish didn't make you question your own life.

Be warned though, when you reach 50 years old, it becomes The Pursuit Of Craggyness.

DISCLAIMER SPOKEN REALLY QUICKLY AT THE END

Sarcasm and generalisations not to be taken literally.

BINAURAL

Nothing literal, its a root metaphor to amuse my own warped sense of observation and a desperate attempt to draw in the viewing figures. The hay balls are still rolling around in the wind, but my audience has increased as of late from one person to about four persons, which is enough motivation for me to continue the work that I have started. The work being done in this place is very important, but it is under threat from unseen forces.

Sporadic thoughts are manipulated at will, it comes across as cutting edge, but when its being shaped and sculpted to a particular fashion, there is no ingenuity behind it. Maybe I am wrong and it is truly all stemming from individuality and free will. I would like to believe that concept, but I am not a brain surgeon, and even the cleverest brain surgeons are not overly familiar with the mysterious workings of the brain.

How do you go from being a "something switched on" to "something totally switched off"? Where does it come from? Binaural beats are the blueprint for brainwave synchronisation, especially when certain sounds are introduced to my brain. If a sound is slow and gentle, the brain will create binaural beats so that the frequency levels synchronise with the slow and gentle sounds I hear. It is this synchronisation which fascinates me and allows me to create these blogs, the binaural beats create a mood and a mindset, the more the sound becomes aggressive, the more the blog becomes aggressive, the sadder the sound, the sadder the blog.

I feel like these binaural beats are a medicine to me, without them I would literally lose my mind and would not be able to evoke an emotional response in direct correlation to what I hear. This technique is like meditation, which is an indication of why I am such a fan of drone music or instrumental sounds, vocals are very spoiling for me and I am not able to concentrate on the binaural frequencies.

I honestly believe that every person could utilise extra portions of their brain by mastering binaural beats, it is more powerful than anybody can really take in. When you listen to a sound, concentrate and fine tune your brain frequencies into those imitating the sound you are listening to.

To discover binaural beats, you need to free yourself mentally and alienate your brain.

I MET MARKY SPARK

It was the kind of thing you read about in books or magazines, you see him on tv, but you never believe you will ever get the chance to ever meet the guy. So when it finally happened, I didn't know what to do, I became kind of starstruck, dumbfounded and confused with words. They said to me, they said, "you're going to meet Marky Spark, you're actually going to be spending the full day in his company and going around the city with him and enjoying it."

I thought, "HOLY SHIT!!! This is Marky Spark! He's untouchable, a living legend, you feel you've met the guy just by listening to his music! So his physical presence in your own personal limelight is bound to be an immense occasion!"

This was Marky Spark, the same guy who could compose Beethoven's Symphony out of a worn crisp packet and create miracles on a shoestring budget, but we had this thing called cash these days and didn't need shoestrings any more. Shoestrings remained popular though and I'm not just talking about the BBC television show... Or maybe I am? But I'm definitely not. Shoestrings were good for shoes, to keep them tight and secure and to stop them from slipping off the feet.

Anyways, I was stood there and this limo pulled up in front of me with blacked out windows. A voice said "Don't worry about that, some kids just pissing around with black ink." It was an incredible voice, a voice of aura and I thought "WHOA, THIS MUST BE HIM!!!" and I looked at the figure and saw Ted Robbins. He said "are you waiting for somebody?" I said "yes, I'm waiting to meet Marky Spark" and he said "good lad that Mark, got his head screwed on... was a bit pissed off with him sending me on errands though to the Spar and ASDA."

But I waited a bit longer to meet my idol, no not Billy Idol or that idol doll from Egyptian mythology, but the real deal, the kind of guy who makes music from the heart with pure passion and raw energy. A philosopher called "Plato" once said, "If a man can make musical fusion out of a piece of turd and an egg cup, you know you can trust him."

Marky Spark doesn't make music for himself, he makes it for others. It is this selfless attitude which has earned him my gratitude and I listen to his songs while eating fatty chews... Usually black jacks and fruit salads... but not listening to fruity ballads. He can create a mountain out of a molehill, and I can tell you right now, the moles were pissed off. Each song he makes has an incredible sound. The concept of sound is simply sound molecules travelling in a direction, Marky Spark has sculpted those sound molecules like some Leonardo Da Vinci creation. The guy is beyond words, he simply and literally lives, breathes and eats music... well I say that, he does use his lungs and digests food from time to time... because even though he is eating and breathing music, it wont put food in his gob will it? Or keep him alive..... Even us mere mortals have to eat more than morsels.

As I was saying, I was here to meet Marky Spark. He'd kept me waiting, but it was for a good cause, because I know he is a busy man. He wakes up at 5.00am and then begins writing a new song immediately with no breaks in between, and it can be midnight before he stops for five minutes rest and then he is back at the Yamaha keyboard, hammering out another classic by artists such as Mozart, Beethoven, Tchaikovsky and Wagner. Sometimes he will take requests... usually the Eastenders theme tune or Coronation Street theme tune... Classics in their own right.... to old fogies that is... muahahahahahahahha...

Anyways, I want to meet my idol, where the fuck is he??!?!?!

I thought "shit, what if he doesn't turn up? It'll be dark here and I'm in a rough street here, I'll get twatted to death." Then I saw a Mitsubishi car arrive and a guy climbed out and uttered words that will stay with me forever:

"FUCKING HELL LAD, GET OUT OF THE ROAD, NEARLY KNOCKED YOU THE FUCK DOWN IN MY CAR!!!"

And then he got back in his car and drove on.......

Then I thought to myself, 'what if this Marky Spark guy is not real? He's just a mysterious alias who happens to just post great songs on newgrounds and he doesn't let anyone meet him ever. He could be a serial killer, how could I want to meet someone willing and pre-meditated enough to stab my Coco Pops, Shredded Wheat and Corn Flakes all in the space of a minute."

I had all Marky's albums - Farting In The Wind, Best Of Shite Part I, The Classics, The Jugganaut, Janetized, Live At Massala, Live At Trishna's. He had done it all, everything you can think of, he'd done it all, simultaneously released 1,000 songs per week, which totally dominated all the genres of the music charts, kicking the arses of many fellow competitors.

I had been waiting for ages to meet Marky Spark. It did finally happen though... Until a pedestrian slapped me over the head for daydreaming. "C'mon dude, why don't you turn up?"

3 HOURS LATER

"Hey sorry man, sorry I kept you waiting so long!! I've just been stuck in traffic for hours!"

A figure got out of the car.

"Hi Dad."

"Has that Marky Spark still not got here?"

"No he said he'd turn up."

"C'mon son, let's go home. I'll be writing him a letter of a complaint soon."

TIME PASSED

I went outside late at night to stick one of those brown handled curry bags in the bin... only to have someone pull a knife to my throat.

"Make one noise and you will D.I.E." So I made two noises.. and got away with it.

Anyways, to cut a long story short... I got abducted, got taken to a giant music studio built underground in Clayton, blah blah blah... The knife incident was quickly forgotten and Marky Spark spent many an hour showing me musical techniques that were beyond anything I had ever seen on Earth before. We were using Alien music equipment.

We started making songs together and had 176 songs recorded in 1 minute. He is a good guy, he did pull a knife on me, but apart from that we got on well, there was a real rapport and he managed to help me get past loopholes to claim income support and avoiding tax evasion. The guy doesn't have a good bone in his body, he has 206.

SMALL PRINT:
This has been a Marky Spark promotion. Bribes were used in this promotion. Listening to his songs are free at the moment, but after three months, prices will rise to £5 per listen. Terms and Conditions will definitely apply.

AMBITION

Should I keep on living at the bottom of a crisp packet? Or should I fight for my right to partttttttt-tayyyyyy... Ugh I don't even like the Beastie Boys, so I don't know why I had to use their little lyrics.

I'm just wondering what is going to happen to me in the next 15 years. The one thing we can't do is turn back time. I wanted to get more out of my existance, but I don't know how long I can go on for now. I feel like the candle is about to be extinguished. Have you ever looked down the barrel of a gun?

There are worser troubled folks out there in the world, so I'm being a bit of a softie in comparison. I only hope I can resolve my restless ambitions and be more than a spare battery part. Time waits for no man, unless you're immortal. I am mortally wounded. Can I give it another go?

It is time to start fitting pieces of the puzzle in.

WORMHOLE

Before I ventured into the wormhole, I looked around me one last time and examined if there was anything that would change my mind. Surely something would stop me from jumping into this portal, something that would remind me that the Earth is a worthy home, telling me that I would be too stupid to jump and leave everything behind.

If I jump now, what if I want to change my mind on the way down? I can't. If I jump, am I just essentially giving up the fight? Surrendering the war?

Isn't life supposed to be a huge challenge? Being the underdog?

I came to the conclusion that 'life is one big difficult computer game' and each day offers a new obstacle, a new challenge, but with penalties and rewards. Life is the ultimate game because small decisions can mean the difference between living and dying.

I would like to participate in the game a little longer yet......

THE KEVAN11TWENTY7 DEDICATION

I promised my good friend I would write a huge blog here just for him and fill it with some of the most fucked up shit you have ever bore witness to and I don't care how many witnesses are present, you're all going to get a double barrel in the neck.

I present to you "The Sicc Buuk Part I"

I am in the mood to bring you this blog because if I don't I'm going to explode and my guts will splatter the rooftops of The Four Tops and deny me clemency. Fuck the human rights act, I am just about through with all that imagery and shit, I want a ready steady fuck chicken, that's what I need right now... I hope you're listening to these words God, you made me ill, you designed me. I am your wallpaper bitch, what the fuck am I going on about? Maybe I just go and live in the jungle alone and draw a circle around myself and never step out of it and then I'll cut all the corners and run Newgrounds from a pit beneath the ground. Then I will start with the word then and start having fun again, by master berating with a group of female berets in Spanish chalets wearing Burnley tops... I have had my day in the sun, maybe I should go to Russia or China and get run over by tanks or bask in the Siberian snow with no clothes on...

Do you like to sit in the dark room sniffing Vicky Vapour Pussy Rub? Aye we do, man do you bleed like a leech when your stuck to its skin.... That would be revenge for ya... I am hopefully gonna grow old with dignity and Dig my own grave and laugh while they play the Art Attack music at my funeral... Abba Dabba doo, sometimes monkeys like to poo, sometimes The Music Band The Monkees like to ride scooters down the street while screaming obscenitys at any paperboy. This blog is the worst yet, it isnt coming together like soundclick bullshit where shit like Ozone Beatz songs are always at the top... Newgrounds is the best site in the world and Davebot is a little punk bitch for hating a site that he constantly writes on and contributes his little shitty half-arsed flash programs to... Attention seeking money grabbing kid who doesn't get money or attention, so why does he bother?

I've no idea why I want to work at IKEA with a knife here to stab the first guy that tries to fight me without fear with a white spear... That shit rhymed, now that's a bar.... electric six made a song called "We're gonna take you to a Rhyme Bar" and they lived up to their promise and salvaged the wreckage of the vessel and beat up those cockles and mussels singing dead dead ohh.. I am going to get some paper towel because I forgot to buy toilet rolls, so I will cut it in two and wipe my ass on the pieces and set them alight and then do nothing but laugh at the misfortune of myself because I had to eat that cake and die without a cause.... Tell me Kevan? What Can I Do To Salvage this vessell, otherwise known as a dysfunctional blog that works at DFS and does really cringey dancing to Shitty Nickelback Stickleback Fish songs.... I think we are all part of a design and were designed to design mosaics and patterns and then die out like the slave trade, but what about the world trade center? that died out too, all of us will die, everything and everyone will die out, so I say try to get as much shit in as you can because it will come to an end one day, no matter who you are....

Imagine if the NWO and Illuminati members spend their entire lives creating a system of Big Brother and slavery and evil atrosities, but before they can revel in it, they die and then get reincarnated as citizens, and the citizens get reincarnated as the Government, they would live in the system they have created and we'd be the rulers of the system they have created.... So my message is.... let's hope there is a reincarnation, you heard it first... from the horses mouth.... Well I aint an horse, but I am an atheist, I met Uswain Bolt last week and said what are you, he said "athletic" and I thought he said atheist.... but that is down to my terrible hearing capacity, I have ears like my gran.... not really my hearing range is fantastic and let me tell the deaf people, "hearing is brill, you should try it sometime!!!" *Sorry the exclamation marks are there to rub it in more, like salt in the wounds of Mother Teresa's corpse.*

I am currently in the midst of a duel with 28,402 characters.... I think I might win because I have unlimited energy in these mediterranean salad fingers... I can write forever, no cramps, no pain no gain and no wayne... I'd hate to be called wayne, its an incredibly weak name undeserving of a capital letter....

Man I need new headphones, but I've had them such a long time that I've become attached to them..... that's because they are stuck on my head....hahahahahahahaha what a great joke that really was and nobody was even around to hear it..... I am so glad that noone heard that great joke and yet everyone inthe entire world will hear my shit jokes.... CO-INKIDENKCE IN THE MIGGUW... where the fuck did that one come from, its stored in the brain somewhere for some reason... Everything I say is freely dripping out of my subconscious, all these blogs are a collection of thoughts that have built up like sperm in the balls and needs to be unleashed in a none-pre-cum John fashanu.... These thoughts opinions and feelings are like a giant ball of grey matter that doesn't matter, nothing I say will ever be appreciated except by deviants called Dev and Ian T. If you read the names and put one and one together, you will understand that little play on words, which wasn't really a stage play like in gay London theatres....

My good buddy Sir Kevan Twenty was knighted last week, he was made a Sir by the Queen.... Well that is what that tranvestite said anyway to my mate Kev... he said he liked to be called The Queen and then he gave my mate a hood..... A KNIGHTHOOD.... Ewww... man, is this what my blogs have cum down to? Pure Filth and Hilarity Mixed Into One Giant Snotball Bogie? I hate the degenerating topics of hell and misery and endless burning in hell.... Why would Satan live in an environment with shitloads of fire around him? I mean what is the point? Why would God live in an environment with shitloads of clouds and really foggy environments around him? I mean what is the point? God could create the best looking female human being and give it a brain where she really fancies him, it would be awesome having that power...... But maybe he would go mad with power and go to Mad Magazine and turn into that funny kid who is always on Simpson episodes who has freckles and says "new kids on the blurrk"....

I would give this blog a 4/10 so far, improvements are being made as we go along... I promised Kev it would be fucking funny, but instead I am under pressure to provide the entertainment he so sorely craves... I know how to make him laugh.... "Nietzlawe is a fucking cunt who like to Hunt With Mike Cunt... I mean Mike Hunt." I have been writing this shit for what seems like ever, and am getting tired of seeing that same shitty Evil Happens advertisement with the speech bubble saying "You all saw it, that orphanage attacked me." Well you shouldn't have given those kids such shitty upbringings then you cunts!

Did anyone know that New York tramps make Ben and Jerry's ice cream? Nice to know that the greatest ice cream ever is in safe hands..... Well shit stained dirty hands to be more accurate..... They have shit hands and say "Yes I will volunteer to make the Chocolate Brownie Fudge one..." and then in a really gay voice they will say "and I will add my own special ingredient... then do a Rigby laugh."

25,000 characters remaining.... makes it seem as though I'm bored doesnt it? constantly reminding myself how many words I have left.... I'm not bored, I never get bored writing.... there is always something to be said when I have this memory card in my head and its filled with save games that I don't want to be stored anymore, so I got to share them before I delete them.... I don't want depleted energy, I want to keep in high spirits like floating souls.... muahahahahahahha..... The puns, the satire, the metaphores, the metalicWhores.. or more accurately the MetHerPhwwwoarrssss..... I need to eat and get some energy back before I proceed to hell up an esculator that breaks down when I am on the very last step.... Man do you think we were put on Earth for a greater purpose? I don't think so because those who have the power to change the world, only change the world to suit their own needs and devices, which brings me to the Marquis de Sade, who was an incredible, dare I say philosopher.... He did write some really interesting true things.. Not just that, but he was incredibly Sad.... He was always on a constant downer and regularly did Acid and LSD and created Flash movies, even though the Flash program wasn't invented yet, so how did he do that? Magic is how....... Philosophers are brilliant, I love them so much, all of them.... they just sit in some room somewhere, write a really witty clever quote or many witty and clever quotes and then sort of leak them to the public world somehow and they spread around like giant octopus testicles.. I mean tenticles and before long, everyone is saying "wow look at Nietzsche or look at Locke.. what he said was so profound and life changing." The beauty of philosophy is that anybody can be a philosopher, one of my favourite quotes is from a guy called Bear Grylls who said... *Quote put into Italic to make it seem more profound for some reason*

'Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, covered in scars, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming 'yahoo!', what a ride.'

Okay I'm talking again now, so the italics and profoundness has to end now....

Here is a joke I've just written myself now in about 5 seconds based on always dissing myself... that's how fast my brain works, the joke goes:

This girl said to me, she said "why do you always put yourself down all the time?" and I said, "Coz I'm tryna give you oral sex."

This girl said to me that Jokes come naturally to her, she just has to fondle them for a while.

We only have to spend the end of our lives on our death bed, but deaf people get to spend every day on theirs.. its crazy..

I rain jokes, jokes pour out of my brain like a waterfall of blood. Its like unintentional braggy poetry and genius that is misunderstood and unheard in large areas... I guess you could say my blogs are unchartered like the dense jungles of well... dense jungley areas..... Only Kevan Gage Sellier Twenty can understand how many brick walls I ran through to produce this shit for his birthday treat, even though it is probably not his birthday yet.... Talks silently so Kevan can't hear, "hey Geoff take those strippers back, its not his birthday yet." AHEEMMMM...... Cough Cough, you didn't hear that.... especially if you are deaf..... They are definitely deaf there is no defying it... I mean denying it.... The Silence is deafening, no Jumping Jacks and Heaven and Hell subwoofers are deafening... silence is golden bitch, don't let anyone else tell you otherwise, you deaf fuckers..... Please don't take my deaf jokes as serious hatred, its only jokes and humour, I believe that everyone should be the butt of jokes, including myself, so go ahead and make really nasty evil jokes about me, I don't care, honestly, as long as its in joke form and there is no intentional aggression, its all fair in War.

All is fair in warfare, even blowing up countries with no weapons is fair is it? What about organising a Summer Fair in Iraq and having walzer rides and bouncy castles and rifle shooting and stuff, no bombs needed, all battles can be disputed fairly and without bloodshed....... See if I was the leader of the world, I could get world peace. I would also sell World Peas... Peas for everybody, the exact same brand.... This blog is borderline boredom and psychotic, its really just a practice run before the real fuel starts being unloaded from the cannon and that will come in Flash Movie Format, so if nobody reads these, there will be an animation version for those of you who can't read and need to be spoonfed everything in nice colours and animation.... only joking, its not literal, I'm just joking... My fan base is the absent minded, why would I diss them? I love the absent minded, the more retards I can get under my belt the better... eww that sounded sinister......... Overtones are funny like William's Overture..... I love classical music, it is like higher level shit.. Its like an uneven boxing match.... in the red corner you've got really well constructed and compositioned classical music and in the blue corner you've got a bass drum going "dum dum dum dum" really fast over and over but appreciated very much by deprived scruff families and chavs...

AND ITS A KNOCKOUT FOR THE CLASSICAL CORNER!!!!!!

As much as I like to write and write and write, I think that 19,000 more characters is beyond even my power.... It is like trying to get higher and higher into the sky to see how long space lasts for.... But it never ends, like these blogs..... I suppose I could write the same word over and over and over and over again for ages, but that would be boring... I would much rather have to think on my feet really quickly even though I'm sat down writing these blogs of Genius from a sematic Genus with a prosthetic pathetic penis... not really... But boy oh boy are these blogs underappreciated!!!!!! Its like if you don't read them, and then on your death bed someone gives you a snippet of this blog, it is like "look at what you could have won." and the curtains open and the prize of what they could have won is revealed, "A HEART TRANSPLANT"... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!!! THE CRUELTY AND BARBARITY IS BEYOND WORDS..... BUT IT ISNT THOUGH, NOTHING IS BEYOND WORDS BECAUSE WORDS CAN BE USED TO EXPRESS ANYTHING CONCEIVABLE... AND MAYBE I'M BEING PHILANDGRANTSOPHICAL BUT THE CREATIVE FIRE WILL NEVER END... LIKE THE FIRE ON THAT SATELLITE CHANNEL THAT WE WATCHED IN MY HOUSE TRYING TO HOLD OUR LAUGHTER IN BECAUSE SCOTT WAS THERE..... EVEN THOUGH HE FOUND IT REALLY FUNNY AS WELL.....!

18,000 more characters remaining.... I am unfazed, this is where I really Excel.... In Microsoft Excel designing spreadshits, I mean bedsheets.... I know I can write forever and ever and create fresh variation jokes and never be stopped, its like the guy who always came back with new shit and proved himself over a 30 year period. Man I wish I was that guy who did that.... P'Tisshhhhhh drum roll...... I know if I can get to the end of this blog, I will be able to look back on this and think, "What a fucking great big waste of time because only KevanTwenty will respond on it and he will say something really small like "so what now?" or "what does this mean?" I hope not.... you had better spend the rest of your life reviewing this blog, if it kills you.... even if you're on a drip in the hospital bed commenting this shit....

I'm a bit worried because the brain seems to be having a dry rot period where I have got Brain Block and can't think of anything witty to say other than Hi...... I need to get back into the Riddem and continue the madness by driving a pedalo into the Black Sea until I fall in and drown after drinking 36 cans of Stella Artois in The Malt and Hops after playing a Quiz Machine game for 15 hours non stop and spending 3 thousand quid on it.... and winning 30 quid back.....

Totally random, who will guard the guards.... I think Remi Garde might do it... Who will guard Remi Garde? A good defender! Muahahahahahahhahahha...... No my powers are dying!!! I'm useless without them!!!! *I'm useless with em*...... this show must go on, but every show has to end at some point.... Chubby Brown was funny at King George's, but it had to end eventually..... Blackburn winning the premiership celebrations were good, but they had to end at some point... my point is that everything good comes to an end.... So my philosophy is "Make Sure YOU HAVE A REALLY SHIT LIFE, SO THAT YOU DON'T HAVE ANY GOOD TIMES AND THEY'LL NEVER HAVE TO COME TO AN END".... But then the saying will be "The shit times will have to come to an end eventually".... so you would have to have absolutely awful times and it would go on and on until eventually you're just a little crumb being picked up by a Dyson Hoover and spending the rest of eternity inside a Vacuum of Vortexs and Wormholes and listening to some funny guy saying "Ballistic Presents" over and over again.....

I think my run is over now, but I want to carry on because I said to Gage that I'd write a blog of such magnitude that his head would explode from all the statistical information he has to take in from reading this blog.... these are not your average joes... or more accurately average blogs... they are words of wizardry, weapons of mass confusion.....

""""""""""""Each letter is merely a shape, but those mere shapes form letters, those letters form words, and those words form an alphabet, that alphabet forms a whole human language... a whole human language forms communication... communication forms ideas, concepts.... ideas and concepts that create buildings, food, clothing, vehicles, science and the list goes on and on....."""""""""" Until we have created a world of perfection. Philosophy Quote By Me Nietzlawe.

Like I said, the show goes on... we never end, we never stop until we cease breathing... and when we cease breathing the show still goes on because what we leave behind is remembered and implemented by others who keep your spirit alive... that is why it is imperitive that I carry on writing these scripts for Flash projects, because I want to leave a lasting legacy on the world, I don't want to be remembered as the guy who worked in a 9 to 5 for eternity and did nothing.... I want to be remembered for someone who did what he wanted, wasn't rushed, wasn't forced, he did everything of his own free will and testament.... and I will die trying to do what I love to do, which is writing craziness...... I want to work on The Simpsons, I would decapitate my own balls for an opportunity to work on The Simpsons, but it wont happen because they have the team in place now and probably don't need any extra writers... but I get insanely and obsessively jealous when I listen to Simpson commentaries on the DVDs because I totally understand their sense of humour and know I could contribute something heavy towards it, but it just wont happen..... GAH!!

Anyways, must move on... Try and create our own animation series and leave our own legacy, I know we can do it, I feel this is the time to step up onto the pedestal and achieve great things..... But I have Down Syndrome, I always bring myself down... Oops I'm not representing the illness correctly...... Who cares? I do... Why? Because I do. Why? Shut up and just keep typing those 13,594 characters dude!!!!! Okay I will.... who are you even talking to? My conscience..... You've got so many split personalities I have to wonder who dropped ya brain on the floor.... I have so many split personalities that my brain is like a jigsaw puzzle now.... Oh Oh I'm tired and letting my mind wonder, and that is not a good thing because RoadRunnerFingers likes to take over the keys and type so much jargon with an hard on eating sardine sandwiches.....

Give me the fuel and I will give you the fire..... Give Gage a DS and he'll give you a gaming freak..... Hey that chainsaw maid video was top notch, really funny and demented, but just wait until you see the characters in our project "Sicc Buuk" even David Firth might be offended.... I'm only joking Mr. Firth, you've got my utter respect... I love your work.. Now will you do the Flash movie for my Script??!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?! "what do you mean NO?!!!!!!!"""" Are you saying you wont help a pal? "What? you're kicking me out? what have I done!!!!!""" "Please Mr Firth, just listen...!!""" "I didn't steal your acid, it was on the table all night... I didn't fuckin take it man!!!"" "OOW, stop punching me man!!" "Hey David... No, No, Nooo... put that knife away now!!""" "ARHHGHGGHHH, SOMEONE HELP, HE'S STABBING THE FUCK OUT OF ME!!!!""

12,000 character what can I do? I know, I'll just type some dots for a while.................................
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................ Nah that's cheating in a way, I want to do this test as a challenge to my own endurance... By writing a Fat Juicy Blog like I promised to my NG Buddy. Actually now I think about it, there was a serial killer in real life, his name was Charles NG! I wonder if he ever visited here in between slaughters?!?!?! I have Charles NG's diary right here:

12.00pm - "Have Lunch With Dave"

1.00pm - GYM.

2.00pm - Go to the cinema to watch Righteous Kill.

5.00pm Tea time.

8.00pm Look for someone to kill and brutally murder.

10.00pm Cozy night in with the missus

He's quite the busy guy that one.

On a totally unrelated and random subject. I have been reviewing a Flash Movie called Angry Dog and was very surprised to see it receiving mass props and 10 ratings. I was even more horrified to see that it was making the Front Page!!! Don't get me wrong, the animation, lip moving and all that stuff is great, really brilliant.... But the writing is all over the place, its such a muddle, its as if the writer has spent all his life trapped in a basement with nobody but two old grandads for company I'm serious.... I want to know why he deliberately writes really boring dialogue, it doesn't make sense to me, why doesn't he go out on a limb to make it as funny as possible without detracting from the plot.... Its meant to be plot driven, but there is no plot.... without a plot, there is no building.... So we've got this great animation, this talented guy with great animating skills with his talent wasting away because he is stubborn and wont work on the plot.... I love animation, so its frustrating more than anything else to see some guy having the skill to animate, but not having the skill to write... I can't animate to save my life, and would give anything to be able to do it.... I hope one day he discovers you need to make the writing punchy, stand out, it needs to be given an X Factor, something that says "My flash is different and better than the rest" and that could happen because his animation is fucking brill...

Angry Dog has a reasonable fanbase now, so I guess all that matters is winning trophies and adulating in the false praise. Whatever happened to writing for the simple pleasure and joy of it? The test of being able to make someone else laugh or evoke an emotion or reaction? It should be about the great feeling of making something unique and wonderous.... like these blogs.. AHEMM!!!!

Ok, that is my thought on that over with. I wish the guy the best of luck with his Flash.

When you get down to 9,500 characters you start thinking "hmm, the finishing line is in sight, can I really make it? Or will I run out of breath before I get there?" Maybe I should carry on and steal the limelight and finish on a high by getting high at Junior High.... Damn I have a small spot on my nose, maybe I have a deviated septum after all.... Talk about never ending, these blogs go on for an eternity and I question my sanity at every checkpoint. Hey I just realised that you only have to type in "face" into google and facebook will still come up as the first link.... By finding that out, I have made myself 1% lazier... Until eventually I will be so lazy that other people will be typing my blogs up for me as I say the words.... But I will kill myself before I let others speak for me, or become embroiled in the 1984 world of George WhoreWell.... Or his wife Geri Halliwell.... I want to have total freedom of mind, everyone is entitled to that..... check out the Citizen's Bureau, they have a Freedom of Mind Benefit Allowance.... It doesn't pay in actual money, it pays in the sense of joy and release of thoughts.. and that way doesnt everybody win! Yeah...... "No wait we don't win do we...!!!!!!"

How do you feel Gage about what it must take to write something this big? Do you think its madness writing a blog of this size and not getting anything in return except maybe a tiny tiny one word comment such as "lol" or "coollll".... that kind of response would really piss me off.... so you had better write a big comment when you do, or I will hunt you down with a Tommy Gun.... Its actually Tommy's Gun, he owns it, named it after himself.... One thing you need to realise is that any facet of the human language can be bent or twisted, shaped or interpreted into infinite meanings that linger until the end of time... I always say that life is a slider bar of infinite possibilities.... Some people might say "Nietzlawe, that is the quote of a boring bastard like you." But I will say "That's your opinion" and they will say "What's opinion mean?" and I will laugh out loud.... How come folks only laugh out loud on the computer, but when you're with them in person, they never laugh out loud once..... Its getting to that stage where my brain is just freezing up now and dying from the dry barren wasteland because I have used up all my creative liquids... eww that sounds pervy, even though it was completely unintentional... I just want to write until the end of time, and if I'm alive at the end of time, I want to keep writing past the end of time... but then if I did, it couldn't be the end of time could it? So that was bullshit.....

This is the fattest blog you ever saw in ya life. Even fatter than that 30 stone guy who came on Jerry Springer Show a long time ago and ate a massive sandwich..... Man I am weird, I mean really fuckin weird and bizarre and eerie and scary and fucked up and insane... all the stereotypical words you use to symbolise weirdness.

I know someone who loves to listen to audio books as opposed to reading them.... I just thought how blaggy this bloggy would sound as an audio book... it would be totally insane.... I mean really messed up.... Man I need to eat some Monster Munch Flaming Hot crisps now, or I will die of starvation, even though I am at a totally comfortable weight and everything....

I think I am going to give up and not finish writing the last 6,104 characters of this blog, I want to be known as the guy who walked through the desert and fell down dead inches away from the water... If I could think of something really interesting to say, I'd be more motivated and the characters remaining tally would fly down really quickly..... I know what I'll do, I'll get some caffeine in me and then come back and finish off this blog....

LOADING... GETTING A CAN OF COKE.... LOADING.... LOADING....

Ted Robbins [Not to be confused with the guy from Shawshank Redemption, its the guy from who played Den Perry in Phoenix Nights] is at the Massala in Accrington on Friday, it would be great to go there again, even though we sort of got kicked out for turning up too early, I mean late... I mean early.... They closed fifteen minutes early!!!

Random again, how come fighting is programmed into the majority of human brains... What sort of God would programme fighting into humans? I'll tell you what sort of God.... A fucked up, twisted, evil, nasty prick of a cunt who has made the world wrong. I can get away with saying this shit because he/it/that thing doesn't exist, us Atheists and Agnostics are united in our intelligence levels and we never get into arguments about religion, because religion is like a wet fart.

I will finish with an encore now, that will end the characters remaining and propel me into the record books...... The Record Book For Losers.. muahahahahahahahahahaha....... Why must I continue to write nothingness for nobodies in a Hadron Collider and eat six Milky Ways and then manage to drink 65 cans of cola and lucozade without having a gastric reaction the size of Turkey. The time sponsored by accurist is not 11.43pm.... Who are accurist? Are they really accurate perfectionists who are always sweating beads and nervous because they have an image to protect and want to do everything perfectly like efficient Germans..? Maybe.

Imagine if all the ifs and buts in the world were put into a single audio file. It would sound weird, it would be like putting loads of Homer Doh's into a single file. You can tell I'm running out of material when I'm resorting to ifs and but gags.... Who is that Joke In Here? he's just taken over Newcastle. Would be funny if his name was Far Tinnear.... or Dea Finnear... We need to proceed and pass the buck and talk absolute shit for five years and then a sudden death...... Remember that story I told about a guy who took 17 bullets, just to immobilise him? Well I sneaked into the hospital and put a listening bug under his bed and heard the true story of what happened to him? He said they were paper bullets, that's why it took 17 bullets just to immobilse him... and he also said he tried reasoning with the shooters, but they were sickos who didn't care what he had to say for himself... they just shot him with paper over and over until he had paper cuts all over his body....

UGHHH, I hate TV Sitcoms with canned laughter, it is disgusting. Especially if you're in a room with other people and they laugh at the parts with the canned laughter rather than the parts they found funny. EWWWW, it is nasty like shit Channel 4 sitcoms like Frasier, Everybody Loves Raymond, Seinfeld, Friends, My Name Is Earl. They should be called Shitcoms. These are low-common-denominator comedies with no punchlines or humour involved whatsoever. Us English dudes have our fair share of shit comedy too, such as Little Britain, otherwise known as Little Shitain, The Peep Show, Bo Selecta, Absolutely Fabulous, The Vicar of Dibley and the list goes on.

I don't like how serious and sane this blog has become, so its time to sink it down into madness territory again and read a murder mystery as a bedtime story and go to sleep scared of closing your eyes.. and when you are asleep, you are afraid of opening your eyes again... even though you are dreaming and have no control whatsoever once asleep..... I have had such good dreams before, that I have woken up in the middle of them and tried to fall back asleep so that I can continue the dream and choose the ending that I want.. When that happens I feel as though I can control the ending, but I rarely succeed in changing the outcome... Damn you Sigmund Freud...... I also have really scary nightmare dreams, where when I wake up, I am so relieved it was only a dream..... But then I will try to fall asleep again on purpose so I can carry on scaring myself with the nightmare, simply because I have now reassured myself it is only a dream...

Did you hear the one about that guy who could talk shit for hours at a time?
"Yeah I'm listening to him right now."

Okay, I will finish by saying thank you very much for taking the time to read this whole blog Kevan Twenty. I hope you learned some valuable lessons, such as don't turn into Nietzlawe or listen to his advice. I would like to finish by saying "Get off my premises now before I shoot you." I know you've been stalking me for 25 years, but you will never get to me, I have 4 bouncers who guard the door 24 hours a day, even when they are sleeping somehow!! There are 55 guard dogs, 1,492 padlocks on all the doors.... I keep myself chained in a small box so that you can't assasinate me. It is not much of an existance, but at least I am safe..... I have also squeezed a keyboard and monitor into this small box too and am writing this final blog right now, before I blow my fucking brains out with this shotgun... that I have also managed to squeeze inside this box... I have also managed to squeeze in a toilet, shower, all my clothes, x-box 360, games, food, supplies, books, magazines, music, cd player and plenty of drugs and porn..... Now I think about it, THIS IS A PRETTY BIG FUCKING BOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

333 characters left.... Can you believe it? I fucking achieved it!!!!!!! But you know what? I don't feel better or happy for reaching the end..... I feel kind of sad that this bullshit has to end now and I have to click POST IT.... I hope you enjoy this blog Kevan, I dedicate this to you, and long may you smile like a down syndrome victim.....

BUS 152

Up in the Scotland Highlands, the snow was overpoweringly thick. It was like navigating through a blizzard in the Antarctica. The three local hikers had been on this journey now for three days and none of them had ever experienced weather like this before. It was incredible to think that it had been 30 degrees when they had set off from home. Now the exhausted trio had nearly completed another steep climb, from the top of this hill, it would have been a beautiful sight, if the fog wasn't so overpoweringly thick.

Iain was the first man to reach the top; he was an adrenaline junkie and possessed a very high intensity when it came to fitness and exercise. He loved nature and there was nothing he loved more than fighting fire with fire against the harsh elements. He believed he was stronger than the Earth, wind, fire or water and would revel in difficult terrain. When he reached the top of the hill he didn't pause for a breath, instead he stood at the edge of the mountain with his arms held aloft in the air, then he shouted out, 'beautiful freedom' as he let the cold snow drop down on his cheeks. Being this high gave him goose bumps, being at one with nature like this seemed to give him a feeling of great power and energy. Instead of drinking from his water bottle, he took off his jumper and T-shirt and poured the contents over his head and then carried on shouting in sheer delight.

Dalziel was the second man to ascend to the peak of the hill, when he reached the top, he fell down onto the flat ground in satisfaction, but mostly because he was exhausted and he needed to regain some of his energy. Once he had taken a few seconds to capture the moment, he sat up and began to drink from a Buxton water bottle.

The Third man Colin seemed to be in a lot of trouble, when he did reach the peak, he simply rolled over the edge and lay panting for breath on the flat snow. It looked like he was going to have an asthma attack, but he just about managed to control himself. Colin was overweight and he certainly didn't want to be here, he didn't possess self-motivation or energy and he despised cold harsh weather. He drunk from a bottle of coke so quickly that it burnt his throat and he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his lungs.

"I don't know why you drink that crap Colin man, you should drink this stuff - water." He pointed at his half filled bottle.

"This stuff is supposed to be in your body Colin my friend, hell our bodies are mostly made up of this stuff anyways."

"I don't like the taste."

"Ahh, but its not always about taste Colin, sometimes it's about maintenance."

THE CLOWN FACTORY

I am currently working on a script for an upcoming Flash Series called The Clown Factory, well I say upcoming, but I am still in the process of finding a good Flash artist, who is interested in my idea and is willing to work as part of a team on this concept. The genre is black comedy.

The series is about a mysterious group of travelling circus clowns. They are cannibalistic and they work, entertain and kill while on their journey.

This is one of my main characters, he is called Testos: