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TO CUT A SHORT STORY LONG
I don't want to bring the whole tone down, but we are not here forever on this Earth.
So cherish every day, never forget to laugh, fight for the things you believe in and make your day job something that you genuinely love with all your heart.
Now the gay bit is out of the way, let's crack some mo'fuckin' jokes!!! W00t! P00t! I got shot by the kid with the Golden AK-47, it took 205 bullets just to immobilise me. Think about that for one brief second while I continue to talk gibberish at an alarming rate, that leads people to self-harm and hate.
The mind of a gutter, an operation at birth to skin graft the devil's penis onto my groin. Now I'm cursed and warped and should really have been aborted. Sorry to sound HIV negative, but life can be more difficult than the United Kingdom trying to win Eurovision. What happened to my vision Harry?
Its amazing how quickly the new Newgrounds doesn't feel new any more because New didn't like being touched in that way and got a restraining order.
Move the Pod, no I fucking wont move the pod, its happy and settled in that cosy hotspot, otherwise known as the Red Light Sadistrict, a place to look in shop windows and browse the rows of wimmen that plug the motherfucking gaps man, like me adding in extra words, perhaps I can, there is always room for one more Oh No He Dinner guest, a thinner guest is my guess will turn up in my headspace and criticise me like Dead Space 2. Leaving negative feedback after taking weed and crack, Who Needs Drugs to read 16 Kindle books back-to-back? From cover-to-cover while you sit and suffer a shitty twist, Maybe just maybe, May Beatrix will buy Jimi Hendrix a beer, that's not the ending my Aunt Ticipated. My Auntie is already dead, decimated, but lives on in all of our hearts, which is an Art Form.. An Art Form application you need to fill in and send back to the relevant department. "Am I a member of any secret cults?" What sort of question is that? If its a secret cult I'm not likely to spout, "yeah I'm a 33rd Degree Shacklemason, like WALTTTTTTTT ohh nnooo Disney." I'd hate to be called Walt and spend my whole life pressing CTRL+WALT+DELETE... My reserves of energy are depleting, I'm fatigued, self-deprecating my shelf life deteriorating... Apparently. You'll never keep a good retard down, I know what you're asking, just what makes this spastic Spaz Tick? all the right boxes. His words are toxic, yet intoxicating, interchanging, Proxicating, literally making, new words up, people looking at you like you were nuts. But we're not, both of us, we're sane as the Sanex WTA Tour with lots of Goddess-like female tennis players... I'm a Playa I'm a Playa said Tech9ne to Lech8 who was always lusting after Untouchable women... But they are not untouchable, just unattainable, in fact they are not even there, they are just a fable and Nietzlawe either picks on the disabled or uses his words to diss able-minded people. Its a kind of magic apparently, a gift some said, who those people were I'll never know, but it will forever gnaw away at me until I do know.. now! Like trying to solve when Noun Town was built, the only information I have is what the Historians have given me... absolutely nothing! The bastards, They baste hard people with marinade on the Dart Marina and throw darts sharp enough to give them aids. Who in the world wants aids? All I want is a ID card. Instinctively Destructive. I'm proactive, sorry I'm lying.. me is lazy, in fact it took all my strength just to raise suspicion, while all the guilty parties crawled underneath it.
I've been sitting on my ideas so long, they are getting squashed down there. Better squashed than quashed like rumours that this shit will never see the light of daye, spelt with an e for dramatic effect. But even that's not as dramatic as the drug addict in my attic with sciatic nerve pain. Never mind that, he has a nerve being up there in the first place. So that's Eric's new hideout eh.. I doubt, that very much. He couldn't find it, not since I gauged his eyes out. He managed to take one of mine, which explains the eyepatch, which I used to patch up our differences... which were in actuality quite similar. We were fighting for the same cause.. Why? Cause we just were, no need for an explanation, no need to get my Ex to explain the situation. What does she have to do with anything? Me and Eric go back a longgg sodding way, in a Collaborative Contortionist Dance... with the Get Ya Freak On tune playing in the background. Dancing on the Dance Floor wearing pants and nothing more, trying to chat up some fucking whores. Horses bucking, run! Thai Hens clucking as they got squeezed by the Marquis. Irrelevant relevance, but I like to play with the things I say, widen my wings and stray, broaden my horizons and play mine games like Minesweeper. Feel more pain than nine beekeepers weeping because they were stung several hundred times by the IRS man.. Ah, thought I would say bees didn't you? Go on, bee honest, you did didn't you? NeverMind my Meta Mindset, in hindsight I should have invented a new oxymoron called blindsight. But I'm not one for stealing the limelight, its worthless to me, I'd rather keep my small gathering of fans slavering rather than satiate the mass market. I'd rather sit and hate the mass market, then do myself in just to see what dying's like. Final I imagine. I'd rather stay living for now and invent my own music group called the Putang Clan.. or the Putang Clean, just for reassurance. So as I was saying a little whle ago before my mind started straying, me and Eric were on the dance floor trying to Boogie, rudely, in the nude, we, were trying to pull prudely women. Fat chance.. of pulling fat women. They were more likely to pull us down, under their superior voluptuous weight. Our dating hopes had been crushed.. and so had our bodies. Broken limbs were strewn all over place, mainly still inside the skin, but loose and free. It made our Contortionist Dance more relevant, Contorturism. Get ya Fat Fuckin' Freak On. I wish we had stayed at home and ate pots of yoghurt in bed [not in the same bed obviously.. seperate houses seperate beds like Thomas Cruise and Katherine Holmes] I didn't know Thetans were so fucking picky! Except when picking oranges off of trees.. sticky. There is the Priory of Sion, but I've no idea what the Priority of Scien--tology is supposed to be about. What is the purpose? Making money? Religions are more like businesses these days. If I was on the Apprentice, I'd say, "Alan, let's start up a new religion, brainwash people to join and convince them that giving us their assets is the right thing to do." You'll do well to top the Vatican though, what with all those riches inside. FORBES Magazine wish to interview the Chairman, The Pope!! But what does Pope Benedict do when he gets ill? Drink Pope Benylin? Drink pop with a e tablet dissolved? Fuck em all, its better than whack a mole, or reacting when your back's against the wall. Firing squad. Its not fair, My Mummy brought me into this world, who gives the firing squad the right to take the gift of life away from me? Wah! I hate society, I'm going to live in the jungle.
Eating Dorito Salsa Dip was a big mistake, it tasted like cold pasta with a bit of tang. And my Jalapeno Fire Doritos? Average at best. They are still lying dormant in the bag, waiting for me to get desperate that there is a food shortage so I will get back to them. But its simply not going to happen... Today. Not until I've finished drinking my bottle of Southern Discomfort. But what's so comfortable about sitting on Discs? Many of them at any one time. Occasions like these don't come along that often, so you have to make the most of every opportunity by satiating those aches by mating with moist holes, she's draining this boy's balls. Where was I? We switched off there temporarily, suffered a blackout while playing the Flash game Psychout, or maybe someone just cut the lights out. I was bored, looking for something to do, I sought adventure and thought that video games were the answer to my problems. Not true. The only cure was to let out a Fuhrer's Fury of words, so I did, and said terribly cruel things without even batting an eyelid.. or two. I rid this head of its lice, some of it creepy, some of it nice, but it was easy to say, and pleased me in ways I dare not discloseth to the massive masses who congregate to play Kongregate flash games, and Greg gets angry when he gets conned, it was a scandal though known as The Con Greg Gate scandal and a silhouette witness said that Erik Chandelsen was involved, a Norwegian who had stolen the real Eric's identity and gone around the world maxing out credit cards and running up substantial amounts of debts without thinking of the Conniving Sequences that were being undertaken. Then while on the run, he joined the Foreign Legion where he developed lots of skin lesions and passed away... boxes of pasta to sell to other countries. Thought he had died? Not for another 47.54 years.
I just found Higgs Boson, it was in my back pocket and now scientists are sending me death threats. Death threats? Or definitely threatened? By a Nord? Or a Breton? Don't know why, I've not even met em, but it seems I've upset em. And they want Higgs Boson back, but I will only give it to them if they send me a hundred grams of crack and some horse shoes that go Clickety Clack.