What's The frequency Kenneth?

What the fuck is up with everybody?

Do this. Do that. Move this. Kill That. End Life. Buy (bigger,better) hat.

It's all gogogogogogogoing and knowing how to get there, why you want to get there and (what seems the most important) knowing that there is where you're supposed to be.

It's all bullshit, from the day I entered secondary school I've been expected to know what I want to do. I have no idea how. Teachers exepect you to know what you want to do and I don't blame them for it to be honest. Look at it like this; teachers are teachers...in schools, they're in schools because they're teachers...when they were learing things themslves they saw and experienced the world of acadamia for a full fucking fourteen years in full time education before they even stepped inside the door of a college and all the while they were thinking ''This teaching business is the life for me''. Well done them, they chose never to leave school. They knew what they wanted to be so the expect it of their students...you with me?

I've lost you haven't I?

Anyway, it's all a scheme to kill polar bears with knife-shooting cannon (that's the plural of cannon, you look it up).

Festering Jelly Palace

It's a depressing sight when you see a man scrape his own melted flesh off the pot-holed road and move on after his 'Burning Man' exhibition is a failure. It's a depressing thought of having no swine for the festive dinner this annum. It's incredibly depressing that it's Christmas...again, I can swear the last one was only a couple of days ago. It's depressing that there's Swedish pornstars fornicating in my garden but they're men, and their sex is on fire. It's incredibly depressing that I can't feel my feet because of the anit-heat which has taken over the country. It's similarily depressing when you realise that the woman isn't as attractive as she appeared in the thumbnail but you save it anyway. It's depressing when all you're family are murdered and haunt your for years after, claiming that it's your fault that they're dead, even though they murdered themselves....

Good Gawd!

I've recently come to the conclusion that grown ups are complete bastards.
Things do not get better when you get older, people do not grow up.
People who are bastards now will just be bigger bastards.
People who are nice now will be dead.
They'll have all been killed by the bastards.

Godfrey Humberwaste

HELLO ROBERT
HELLOREBERT
MARRIA FAMAGUEUSTAS?
TERRIBLE, I KNOW
YOU'RE A GIRL AND I'M NOT
SO, LET'S, LIKE...Y'KNOW...


SCRABBLE?

I've gone mad

I'm pleased to tell you that a watermelon has successfully climbed to the peak of the political world.

It has reached the polling station on Mount Everest.

Tom Hanks

It's been a very bad week. The druids have decided to remove me from the Instatubes Club of Supremer Beings for cheating on last Dreadlock Holiday's bingo exam. My feet have mutatated ants constantly gnawing on them and I'm getting a little bit pissed off with them. An Indian man is in my house as we speak, systematically killing eveything I have ever known. He'll be here in a minute, this may well be the last thing I ever type.

Or not.
Y'see, the thing is you're too demanding, I don't like writing and (most importantly) fuck you.

The Oddessy

Rather than bore you I'm going to kill you.


With words...


KNIFE!

STAB!

EXPLOSION!

GUNSHOT TO BONE MARROW!

BARBED FUCKING FIRE!!

Still here?
You're a tough one...

I'm being made write this by several thousand miscroscopic monkeys on my back. The weid hatchets and they're incredibly resistant to fire. In fact, they've lit themselves on fire and have started to jizz the results of the gasoline orgy they're having all over my back.

I suppose you could say a peer is putting pressure on me to do this.
Another way to say it would be ''Pierre is putting pressure on me to do his''
I doubt this possibility as Pierres 'puter has been stolen by buccaneers of the Anglo-Hatian Merchant Navey.

But then it's not all the monkeys fault.
It is mostly their fault but I'm here because I want to be.

I think I'm here because I've got something to say. Something monumental that will change everything; your perception, your bigotry, your name,age and phone number will all be changed because of the words I type. I am the new literary messiah, I am the Jesus of the second Millienium, I'm you're uncle Paul and I fucked your mother.

I didn't regret it either.

I live in an imprenitrable frotress on the isle of Your Mind.
I'm the fucking neo-Christ
I'm a parasite, I'm in and staying.
There's no 'if', there's complete certainty in every single thing I do.


Get used to it.
Enjoy the blog.

:)