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FAT FUCKING CHUNKS OF WORDS FROM THE HEART
Someone once said, 'when you write, do you think about what your writing beforehand or do you just wing it?' and I replied quicker than he finished the sentence, 'shabbadakabbadeboodydeewop'... No I didn't, I'm not Scatman or into Scat man, I'll leave that to the fat Dutch dude from Amsterdayumm... Right, its 2.30am precisely right now, so let's play and see where we go from here, to the end of the street, a motorbike accident, not pretty, like this blog, straight from the heart, or head, as we just randomly clash cymbals symbolically, but diabolical like Dire Straits who fired eight members of their band for teh lulz... Nah, they didne said the Scottish caber tosser who threw it so high it hit a cable that was unstable and it fell on his hateful wife Mable.. Nah, that's a fable.. Straight from the Nietz Vaultz... Now pass me the salt while I throw it over my right shoulder into someone's hot coffee and they get a scold on their left shoulder... Again, not deliberate, like when I killed somebody with the axe, even that was an hackcident. *Groans* Give me a chance guys! I'm a new comic! Give my material a chance to flourish, if Michael McIntyredandcliched can become a comedian then anyone can do it. They say comedians are some of the saddest people behind closed doors... That's why I always leave my doors wide open like Sharon Stone's legs or when Ariel Sharon stoned someone's legs for thieving. Leave me alone I'm grieving, like a sad comedian visiting a medium, but I was too skeptical to speak to them... Mediums can't predict our futures, they know very little and take so much, bunce, taking money from the dunce. Stupid shitty cunts! Fuck mediums up the ass, they didn't see that one coming... But they will feel it. Why the hell were we talking about mediums?!?! Talk about unscripted. Off the Cuff. Unshackled. Unbridled. Live from the Household Arena. Its a sell out tour, or more like selling out to torture sessions and being knocked over the head with an oil lamp by a camp genie who has pitched his tent who has made you his bitch and turned you into a prized possession. Weird set of words. Sometimes the rail cart has no choice, it could go to Beijing or Illinois, just to annoy people like me who are also unemployed.. but enjoy it. I'm living like I've got six months to live, like someone who has got six blunts lit, simultaneously smoking them and getting high off his titsacs. The invention of a new word as I gather up a new herd of followers that devour this shit instead of cowering in the corner frightened to avoid the Fight with Ten Reefer Smokers. I passively provoke smokers into walking through a line of hoola hoops then into a burning fire then shout oopsa daisy. I'm not lackadaisical I just lack the daisies to give to Ada and Daisy because I'm a lazy sadist spiralling 'into' control, actually using a spirograph in the process. I've no cess so this nonsense can't be blamed on drugs or the undead draugrs who shoot me with Rutger Hauer's Lex Lugers metal forearm. I want to disappear forever and live on a farm and train my own farmy of animals to fight battles against... leukaemia, cancer and spina bifida. All diseases and illnesses are cruel, I blame the man upstairs.. no not God, the guy that broke into my house. Its all his fault, especially when he couldn't serve at tennis, his spot as a menace has been reserved. Like being on the guest list, I'd rather be on the guess list, you have to guess if you made it on the guess list... What about being on the breast list? Then going on Embarrassing Bodies, to be honest, I should go on Embarrassing Embodiment, my whole being is a waste of skin, bone and tissue. Sexy Bits O' Meat? You're having a laugh aren't you? If I get reincarnated, I'll probably just end up coming back as myself... The Ultimate Punishment. Life can grind you down but when you are down, you find what kind of man you are. A literal living joke, so walking around stoking the flames until they singe the clouds, while we act like fucking clowns on a permanent downer. Drowning our sorrows in the Vue bar, good times, mostly intoxicated, even the X Factor looked like good television. Four years ago.. really? Yezzir, four years in the making, harrowing, like when Clay was Aching from temporomandibular joint disorder. Don't get it twisted, I bear no ill will on anyone except William who is already ill and better off out of his misery. As a rememberance monument we made a willy out of a yam, covered it in jam then all of us at the funeral jumped in the air at the same time and shouted DAMN! For no reason other than to be random, like that day we were on the Tandem adventure in Blog #261. Like recanting old comic book issues eh!! Not really Nietz, you can't really compare this...... 'drivel'.. to legendary comic books that were loved by millions. Remind me how many fans you have Nietz? - "Erm, but, er.. what are fans.. really? Who needs fans. Except when you need to cool down. Besides I do have lots of fans." - "Fans really? Where are they?" - "They all live in the ghost towns." You can't see them but they are there, yeah fans are like hemorrhoids. Sometimes they can be a pain in the backside. Or backshide as Sean Connery might say. But who is to say what Sean Connery might say? Why must we all speculate on what Sean Connery might say, only he knows what he would say at any given moment. We shouldn't put words in his mouth, which ironically may be the reason for making him talk with a lisp.
I'm spinning out of control into this hypersonic word mode, like hot squirting fumes from out the inferno. Its not fair though, on the victims, or the victims sick twins, who sit and whip twinks and make them eat twinkies. There's probably a eupahemahemism in there somewhere. Don't blame me for words being crass. I didn't invent the language, I didn't say that fuck and cunt were swear words, if the person who said they were swear words hadn't pinned them as swear words, we could all say fuck and cunt with a high degree of comfort. Swearing and insults were deliberately invented to cause division and disharmony between otherwise harmonious people. Its a shame really because words are really sounds emitted from elastic tissue vibrating in the larynx. People get offended from my Larynx sounds? Fuck you. People get offended by letters that are banded together and shaped in a specific way. Again.. fuck you. Sue me, grow up, man up man, grow some balls! Too many people are offended these days, ooh I'm offended and hurt, you'd be more offended if I blinded you with my fingers, believe me. Too much political correctness in the world, too many imperfect people trying to make the world perfect just doesn't work in my book. You can't get everyone holding hands and singing Ring a Ring of Roses, its just too damn impossible, all you can do is accept that the world is brutal and the only means of survival is to squirt Brut aftershave in people's eyes. Its every man for himself Freckles! Little reference there. Survival of the Fittest, even Spencer said it himself, ironically the most dominant people on our planet are not fit, they are out of shape, the phrase should be Survival of the Fattest, intelligence rules the world nowadays rather than brute aftershave strenght [slang]. Hopefully strenght will become a phenomenon like the phenomenal quote teh lulz which is like a sexual pheromone and aphrodisiac to thine ears. I'd hate to have Thine ears while reading Mark Twain poetry. then shave off my sideburns with battery acid... For teh lulz like when I read a Charles Schulz comic, it was comical, made me laugr like when I slaughtered the daughtrs of sixty six drugged draugrs. Of course I didn't slaughter them! Geez I actually had to clear that up. Everything is becoming more like 1984, even though the technology in 1984 was shockingly bad and incapable of monitoring a populace while playing the game Populous. I was never a Populous fan, more of a Broken Sword man, more of a broken man in general to be more accurate. My acumen is high enough to know that one. I also accuse men of stealing my bitumen, I don't want to come across as being bitchy man, I'd rather cum across the bitches hands. Swollen glands and jizz shots land into your shot glass like a goldfish landing in water. Picture the image, live it, dream it, wake up from it. Reality, the world is messy like Lionel, but its been made that way on purpose in order to create civil wars which are anything but civil and pussy riots. I'm not sane either and think I'm a lost cause, I might pay a visit to the Patron Saint of Lost Causes, and he could give me a long rope to climb out of this black hole we call Everyday Life. Personally I think we are better off than half of the population of the world, when you take into consideration all the starvation, war-torn countries, exploitation. We are quite high up the ladder, but it's still not enough. I reckon even multi-millionaires whinge and complain despite being top of the ladder. I bet even fucking God complains about being top of the NBA 2k13 Online Rankings Chart after being undefeated for 2000 years. God can keep his fucking big gob shut, if God complains I'm going to slap him and tell him to quit his whining. Satan, I'm going to take him on in a bare-knuckle boxing match and try to break his nose while avoiding his pitchfork. But what chance do I have against the CEO of Hell?
No chance in hell, that's what. But what if I fight him somewhere neutral, outside of hell.. Will I have a chance then?
Find out nex......... at my funeral. *Play us out with the bassoon Roger.*