Mailed myself back to the light as a bundle of old records, unsold, packaged by a friend, destined for the ashes of grandmothers’ only village. Wrong flag, braw times, royally shafted. Together, legions, we drones play shepherds by voodoo’s smoke. 5XgmTV, aye but, how the why, asked Jojo yo-yo the fighter pilot.
Quality assurance, I guarantee thee, non-compliant sheep, perfidious dog, lie down, crown of crowded cornrows; fuckkk farming, croft yer ane Bristol crème, cunts run countries. Six counties doth not a coalition conceive, but criminality. Duco fucked a monk foetus to save children of Israel in Catalonia catacombs.
Tradesmen, ocean grown. Hollywood’s greatest directors worship idolatrous illustrations o’ Ben Hur, evolutionary biology heretical, your supremacy, I swear upon thy burning cross. Ken, the one ye nailed the sun to, bathing satanic majesty in da Nile. The greatest Reich, Einsenhower, shuffles Roosevelt’s tarot.
Iron man, DC aye? Celtic Unity, hysteria. Gallus frog marches Pepe, misunderstood existentially; Scratchy, Big Mo, Homer; sketched before disappearing wisdom fell acidic allies down Eric’s forked tongue, towards ska-punk gallows. Fascism fears paella not, olive oil drown my illusion, omertà shit.
How many fukkkin times, chef? Insubordination, old school, meant plank meet posture. Some-necked giraffes ken karate; pencils, untrained, snap aforementioned ligaments. Excuse me, violence, reality burled. Feel bad ye what, shat yersel? Maestro called, call him bounced cheque, mate.
Wake, bake, ye walking wake’n’wank, this is yer conscious speaking. No sunbirds, statistics, post-match analysis necessary, take aw yer pull, grind them. Queensferry rules, bring yer ane bombs, bullshit battalions bail before “bad boys” bully bullies, armed with voice, bass, guitar, skateboard. Cake?
Toots, listen, Brad’s an archetype; the Joe Rogan with insight, if ye insist, yet resist. Psychic linguistic Pictish cider, no brain damage on this, Mike. Roy, the wee or big wan. Fuck roundabouts, Zebedee, real magic is Bungle’s pain in stereo silence. Broken speakers. Tell no lord, lies commander.
Smitty? Saw him wes’on glock over flock street, UZIfied fishing, TECKLE. Karl, Ash nipped off themsel, why bother rushing? Greed, meet Envy in Zionist hate, almighty me squire, what jolly spiffing flasks full of falafel, yessir. Three bags, indeed, sir. Bargains for big baws, wee Johnny Part Time, count yer jaws.
Ken fine I kick it, cunto, ken? If in doubt, spit it out, forever friends, GISM. Poker. Malt liquor. Salt lakes. Suck my dildo, van heeder. Pounded fist in ham peace, guggit, barkers, honkin’, ye reeking maggot jam tart bar steward walking union street queen. A mole.
Offend me in GCHQ magazine, full frontal, beamed in, Scotty Boy, too hot for TV, paid with Kaufman’s unscripted credit card removal company, pissed on by carer’s deserving means but lacking production. Kippers, nae per diem. Did it, done it, lined it up, snorted, burnt doon. Straw men? Chip rappers.
Flood windmills with Steve Bannon. Information overload; chessboard overlords of the annihilated sewers, all roads lead to broken promises, land theft, Rome. Picked it up, irish irony, in the north, karma west of white cliffs, Nelson. Port and lemonade indulgence, Dennis. A river.
Denial is potent. 0141.com
For eighty eight zombie corpses
Dragged through the streets
To hang their heads off.
Sweet. Sweet papaya.