a bit different, i have to admit...
       i don't know why i sat on
the toilet for so long,
  maybe it was to do with the ginger maine
**** that jumped on the bathoom
windowsill and was teasing me to
insert a need to be petted...
don't know, i was relaxing my ****
muscles stretched on the throne of thrones,
took a dump and started fascinating
about this ****** cat...
ginger, hair extensions on its ear
like a lynx, weighing in at about 10 kg,
i mean: hear meat of a *******...
we spend out days on a windowsill,
he's in the bathoom looking
at the vicinity going huh? and i'm also
dart-throwing with my eyes
trying to pick something up...
    like a revision to the prologue
of the movie... kiss kiss, bang bang
i really did have an over-due end to a toilet
session...
  i just sat there stretching my ****
like some samurai weightlifting and figuring out
why the ears of cats are so sensitive...
no, really, i want this **** out so i can
get my ego back...
          given we're going to be so *******
um um hum cry-baby nuanced...
       i'm talking a fox-sized cat...
           and he's like: love the stink, tease me some
more...
            cats are nuance...
                            sometime i don't know what
to do with them...
                  this ginger one likes my **** perfumes
that i lied about not having derived them from
Parisian sewege...
well i can't exactly say that val kilmer
was badass in that kiss kiss, bang bang movie,
because he was...
   a terrible thing happened to me when i went
to university,
          this girl approached me, we watched
the lion king and then for a walk and she was
asking me to "break down the walls" later,
which i didn't... oh **** me, ******* virgins is
rare i'm trying to forget that i did once...
that internal excess of skin you need to puncture,
while at the same time faking the possession
of a circumcised phallus?
      a flock of sheep sheered, a fork that isn't
a trident, and attempting to fake having a sized
               4inch *****...
                 ever open up a ******?
           clearly i'd tell you to go to a brothel before
attempting to unravel that question...
               better still, try that walking brothel
of a saudi niqab woman... tear that **** off
and you're bound to enter a hiatus in some public
space feeding a horde of pigeons, being "weird".
that existentialist "quote"... **** needs a pause,
akin to against: quote?
why did i even write about this?
   i guess simply for the same reasons albert camus
wrote the stranger...
                 i'm sitting on the "throne of thrones"
(the toilet), and i'm petting a cat...
               a cat more like a fox *******,
and i'm exfoliating his response to owning ears,
and there's this bald-patch worth of cranium
i smear with my index tip (of finger)...
   then the dab on the nose to suggest that i know
where his "knees" are bound to fold on the hind
when crouching...
                        doesn't that mean that existentialism
was a philosophical movement counter thesaurus?
isn't that what you call anti-thesaurus?
     as in faking an excess of vocab?
   peacock **** to me, insert gucci to add emphasis,
alongside: i own a flat in venice...
                              ******* bound to congregate.
i really don't know why i'm writing about
sitting on a toilet and petting a cat on a windowsill...
i really overstayed my welcome
   on the throne of thrones...
                         but i managed to find this
as compensation... the feline sensitivity of possessing
ears... all of them are naturally doberman slit...
  am i to blame the japanese for creating this
bonsai monstrosity?
  no! i blame the egyptians!
                                clearly the term bonsai
can be extended beyond the thought of carpentry...
this **** has to be absurdity phase 2...
    is it odd that i petted a cat on a windowsill
    before wiping my ***?
          everyone demands to hear the 3rd tier of
feminism, there's no 2nd phase of albert camus
and the anti-existentialist movement...
           mind you: i did just write about taking a ****
and petting a cat that enjoyed both my
rigour in a gentle hand over its cranium and base
of skeleton and "excess" of tail (a bit like a ******,
or what's commonly known as
the coccyx); evidently and the artwork in the depths
of a toilet protruding to give itself a case
of an iceberg comparison...
         i mean... does owning dogs come to
such ******* as owning cats them
                     forcing themselves into the toilet while
you want to concentrate on taking a ****
in privacy?