i don't really have a life that is worthy of being prescribed:
keeping up appearances... brute talk isn't exactly brute action,
which is why Aristotle survived
in the influential sphere up to the Middle
Ages... culminating in what
lacking in dialectics enabled us to be:
pets of social facts, regurgitation apostles
of Beelzebub... oh wait... should
i only use "sensible" words to plagiarise
the serenity of an English landscape?
well, the Normans surely did,
serenity of the Domesday Book...
i'm investing... the day when your little
Colonial subjects become nothing to us...
the day when they realise your little trick
to have the Rolling Stones and the Beatles
will be erased on the word: snap!
you can have you little white-on-white
moment now, you can even subscribe the Irish
for your cause... please, have a moment...
i'm in need of entertainment -
i need something to amuse me...
i'd be bored if i didn't start to feed off ridicule...
once i was offended by it, hated it,
now i feed off it, soothing words, aren't
they, replacing the high-society philosophers'
master (host) with parasite (slave) -
meaning the master does all the work,
which is what your people became: nanny nanny!
i cut my finger! nanny nanny! i ******* my underwear!
good, you little ******... and they said
familial ties were never better...
try exporting western values into Syria...
what do you get back? a beheading... ha ha.
look at yourselves... this tendency to keep
lying and keeping sausages is just bearable...
if i were a Muslim? sign me up to Shia Islam...
and what that gave: Sufism...
if i were a Muslim i'd be in the Shia faction...
cos they like a bit of drink and a bit of poetry, oi oi!
nudge nudge: do a Houdini with a woodpecker.
honest to god, you're breeding them...
you're breeding the providers of this nation
with an adamant hatred bitterer than those
you once colonised, you're breeding a slaughterhouse
of egoism... never mind the battle of Britain
and the polish fighters defeding this jolly gooey land...
they have already tasted the seed, now
they're burrowing... your little, ahem, "special"
relationship with America has gone, a bit sour,
hasn't it? i love deniers more than blatant liars...
wait... 2066... that's what? **** me! 50 years from now...
well... given Darwinism that's about as much as
a sneeze of waiting time...
it'll soon turn into: where's the Empire? where's the
Empire? i swear you sent criminals to Australia,
and i swear you'll get ****** over while
America tries to reinvent itself... but it won't...
i'll get sequels of movies that should have ended with
the first one... i'll great brain damaged every time
i try to switch on the t.v.,
but fair enough: hotel Transylvania 2 was funny...
but it just shows me how un-expressive humanity
became... oh right... milton jones is funny
with the twitchy eyebrows... is he? i don't know;
what i do know is that every time i listen to the radio
i press the rewind button when the grand
opportunity comes... then i'm like: d'uh...
mmnnn (some sort of chin expression): window-licker!
how did i find the comic's name? google:
comic with long hair and Hawaiian shirt...
that's how i remembered him... i'm too young to
get the Aristophanes treatment - why?
the civilised man said: but i'm wearing spectacles!
the barbarian just said: and i'm wearing knuckle-dusters,
what's your point? i'm picking plums,
i'll leave your gums invigorated by having no fewer than
two bony sycophants: cheese!
or unless i do grow old and frail, and the greatest
punch i'll ever throw will be a **** into my underwear
while i do a jacuzzi with it whenever i **** after
i ******* myself in a care home... hence the 1 billion Chinese
and Indians. or just like today, the supermarket cashier talks some
tribal tongue, i say: what language is that?
she says some name... then adds: i speak several
languages. then i think: aren't you supposed to
be a translator at the U.N. rather than a supermarket
cashier? i know that life's cruel, but this is just
insanity. well, we'll know by 2066 whether i was wrong
or whether i was just imagining things.