Oct 2017
between a bottle, and a woman... i'd always take to the bottle quicker than might suggest a care for a wife, and had i the mind to mind, i'd think quicker: but then again thinking was never a "mind-game" worth of sprinting to a horizon of known oblivion.
a response to intelligent response:
seems hard then the audience are forced
to laugh...
how hard to bully an audience into
laughter, how staggeringly similar and
the thrown into the argument:
you're as imperfect as all all of us!
perhaps:
but not as ******-up as you'd like
me to be, akin to you.
i still hold unto the stronghold of
a two parent family: you?!
a disregard in the convention of
the bootsales of divorce: hope you're well:
in that magic act of making your
grandparents your parents,
and leave me in custard foam
to attest the mud... of a fool's fair share
of cradling the auschwitz innocents.
the auschwitz survivors seem not to matter,
only those who make the image:
the ones mingling the friction of reality:
with the smothering of fiction...
the unsaid being said,
the said being unsaid...
i am the perfect forged from the thought
of being perfect...
the response to "intelligent" comedy
in response = a nervous laugh...
the result of a nervous laugh:
truancy of authentic laughter -
comedy is unto laughter what
tragedy is unto crying...
true comedy comes
with uninhibited laughter: it doesn't
come with canned laughter...
that's cheap... that's really cheap,
and sad... sad beyond wanting to cry...
the comedy you speak of
is that of inhibited laughter:
a one of a doubled-up nervousness -
smart comedies and intricacies of
drama spell out the same conclusive
columbo diagnostic;
oh **** me, have the *****,
i have as much attachment to it like
i have to acknowledging
a tissue...
take this ******* near me and
i'll tell of your "motherhood"...
no, i don't acknowledge
an "intelligent" comedy...
drag me back into the rabble...
the mob rule, the theocratic dream of"
man has no law above the quake,
no law above the wave, no law
above airy twirl dance, no law above
the forest fire, man is included to state
his sensual distaste, but with
the elemental per se: cower my dear,
into a pill shaped box...
the response of
intelligent comedy = a nervous laugh...
the laugh of the inhibited -
never the laugh of the free-fall uninhibited...
and such a shame...
that it should be excused as comic -
to riffle nerves and somehow "laugh"
is no laughter at all...
a man ought to laugh uncontrollably -
but to make joke into nuance
so that he might laugh controllably -
what's the point of telling the joke,
in the first place?!
i want to laugh uncontrollably -
than nervously -
because even though there's a "joke",
i'm half as serious about the "joke"
being a joke, as i am in attesting:
this is worth more a nervousness
in choking on a laugh,
with attempt, than
the uncontrollable lack of effort
that leaves me in paralysis...
i'm not supposed to excuse myself
at this point, but i am apparently
having to muster up an apology
for comedy, and the comic strip of
of *lee evans doing the goose strutting...
it's still comedy, but not really,
monty python was clarity in
pig-head ******* cameron phelatio
in eton: outside?
can't be smart: you're not an insider:
it's an insider's joke:
they're not funny, they're eton.
next time i find them funny
i'll be making the most perfect:
poached egg.
americans take the **** out
of ***,
the english take the **** out of ***:
the subject matters of:
either - we have enough of the former
and lack of the latter,
or we, have enough of the latter
and lack of the former...
to say that english humour is
funny is to also say that shakespeare didn't
exist, like jesus!
who knows,
give it enough time, enough
*****-akin historiological define-
(definitive moment) -
and that being?
is history a convict in the prison of space -
or is time a convict in the same space?
by comparison, is history a medium of
artefacts, with history the one owning a fingerprint,
and time, without one?
it's silly to talk of an afterlife,
given that we live our lives with the same
impetus of *****: a tsunami barrage of
constant refraction and reflection -
man in a microcosmos is the totality
of man,
man exists in a microcosmos -
what man is in the macrocosmos is what
we deal in terms of the misnomer attache akin
to god...
it's good to have forgotten
one's original point, having written
such dribble...
time is only linear in history -
but what are the truer dimensions of time?
if space has its 3...
then as einstein suggested:
time be squared -
i only wanted the first
few words...
nervous laughter is the response to
"intelligent" comedy...
but saying that:
i'd prefer "dumb" comedy
and allow myself uninhibited laughter
than "smart" comedy,
and only allow myself *inhibited" laughter;
as i'd prefer imagining ***** flicks
than imagining myself welsh,
counting sheep:
does arithmetic really beat insomnia,
**** me, too bad for the efforts of
the chemists:
so we did all these experiments
to craft the pills, for general practitioners
to reach for the tarot cards of
astrological readings?!
**** it, sign me up for a cave.
a response to intelligent response:
seems hard then the audience are forced
to laugh...
how hard to bully an audience into
laughter, how staggeringly similar and
the thrown into the argument:
you're as imperfect as all all of us!
perhaps:
but not as ******-up as you'd like
me to be, akin to you.
i still hold unto the stronghold of
a two parent family: you?!
a disregard in the convention of
the bootsales of divorce: hope you're well:
in that magic act of making your
grandparents your parents,
and leave me in custard foam
to attest the mud... of a fool's fair share
of cradling the auschwitz innocents.
the auschwitz survivors seem not to matter,
only those who make the image:
the ones mingling the friction of reality:
with the smothering of fiction...
the unsaid being said,
the said being unsaid...
i am the perfect forged from the thought
of being perfect...
the response to "intelligent" comedy
in response = a nervous laugh...
the result of a nervous laugh:
truancy of authentic laughter -
comedy is unto laughter what
tragedy is unto crying...
true comedy comes
with uninhibited laughter: it doesn't
come with canned laughter...
that's cheap... that's really cheap,
and sad... sad beyond wanting to cry...
the comedy you speak of
is that of inhibited laughter:
a one of a doubled-up nervousness -
smart comedies and intricacies of
drama spell out the same conclusive
columbo diagnostic;
oh **** me, have the *****,
i have as much attachment to it like
i have to acknowledging
a tissue...
take this ******* near me and
i'll tell of your "motherhood"...
no, i don't acknowledge
an "intelligent" comedy...
drag me back into the rabble...
the mob rule, the theocratic dream of"
man has no law above the quake,
no law above the wave, no law
above airy twirl dance, no law above
the forest fire, man is included to state
his sensual distaste, but with
the elemental per se: cower my dear,
into a pill shaped box...
the response of
intelligent comedy = a nervous laugh...
the laugh of the inhibited -
never the laugh of the free-fall uninhibited...
and such a shame...
that it should be excused as comic -
to riffle nerves and somehow "laugh"
is no laughter at all...
a man ought to laugh uncontrollably -
but to make joke into nuance
so that he might laugh controllably -
what's the point of telling the joke,
in the first place?!
i want to laugh uncontrollably -
than nervously -
because even though there's a "joke",
i'm half as serious about the "joke"
being a joke, as i am in attesting:
this is worth more a nervousness
in choking on a laugh,
with attempt, than
the uncontrollable lack of effort
that leaves me in paralysis...
i'm not supposed to excuse myself
at this point, but i am apparently
having to muster up an apology
for comedy, and the comic strip of
of *lee evans doing the goose strutting...
it's still comedy, but not really,
monty python was clarity in
pig-head ******* cameron phelatio
in eton: outside?
can't be smart: you're not an insider:
it's an insider's joke:
they're not funny, they're eton.
next time i find them funny
i'll be making the most perfect:
poached egg.
americans take the **** out
of ***,
the english take the **** out of ***:
the subject matters of:
either - we have enough of the former
and lack of the latter,
or we, have enough of the latter
and lack of the former...
to say that english humour is
funny is to also say that shakespeare didn't
exist, like jesus!
who knows,
give it enough time, enough
*****-akin historiological define-
(definitive moment) -
and that being?
is history a convict in the prison of space -
or is time a convict in the same space?
by comparison, is history a medium of
artefacts, with history the one owning a fingerprint,
and time, without one?
it's silly to talk of an afterlife,
given that we live our lives with the same
impetus of *****: a tsunami barrage of
constant refraction and reflection -
man in a microcosmos is the totality
of man,
man exists in a microcosmos -
what man is in the macrocosmos is what
we deal in terms of the misnomer attache akin
to god...
it's good to have forgotten
one's original point, having written
such dribble...
time is only linear in history -
but what are the truer dimensions of time?
if space has its 3...
then as einstein suggested:
time be squared -
i only wanted the first
few words...
nervous laughter is the response to
"intelligent" comedy...
but saying that:
i'd prefer "dumb" comedy
and allow myself uninhibited laughter
than "smart" comedy,
and only allow myself *inhibited" laughter;
as i'd prefer imagining ***** flicks
than imagining myself welsh,
counting sheep:
does arithmetic really beat insomnia,
**** me, too bad for the efforts of
the chemists:
so we did all these experiments
to craft the pills, for general practitioners
to reach for the tarot cards of
astrological readings?!
**** it, sign me up for a cave.
