after watching half an hour's worth of
a, "debate" between
                tucker carlson vs.
                 cenk uygur
i start to experience: custard head...
like i some Scottish ******* working
on a Royal Mile in Edinburgh
candy-shop...
it's not exactly a headache,
but it's something...
                           jeez... what is this ****?
was i reborn while drowning?
blah blah blah... blah blah blah...
blah blah blah... and blah blah blah some more...
paradigm shifts...
yet still the pompous unmovable
status quo...
                what a load of crock-****...
i just can't believe i wasted half an hour
listening to these guys...
dialectics...
  back in the olden days, of Ancient Greece...
the only mediator between two
contesting sides was...
a ******* bench...
           why do you need a mediator?
why not... something you can share,
and subsequently, sit on?!
that's how i talk to old men in parks...
bicycles (Raleigh - green, military green,
pristine *******), grandchildren,
the ethics of drinking in public...
you know, the usual with old men...
**** into the wind, **** against it...
headache... all this political *******...
it's like having to do the alex
in clockwork orange...
           eyes wide open, reformed...
or on my way... while watching a *******
snooker match...
please! but they won't shoot you...
no... like that line i wrote a while ago...
concerning andrei chikatilo...
  his execution and
bane: or perhaps he's wondering why
someone would shoot a man before
throwing him out of a plane?!
so why would the Ukrainian authorities
require... a prison cell,
to shoot a man?
             oh... that's right...
the movies lied to you...
the only death that's "instantaneous"?
in your sleep...
   just look up christine chubbuck,
sure as **** she didn't die on the spot...
it's like people orientate themselves
with or without a soul around
the brain...
  like: you **** that first: up to heaven
in a matter of milliseconds...
that urban myth: a cockroach can live
up to 2 weeks without its head,
before it dies from starvation,
                                     is that true?
i don't know why i keep coming back
to this scene... a single shot through the back
of the head...
              i'm crouching, somehow
attached to like a spider to the Y point
of a cell... curious...
          just curious at how long...
well... the heart can turn off the brain...
but the brain can't turn off the heart...
                   what a fascinating style of execution...
too bad for Curt Kobain...
    Kafka wrote about it spot on:
first the heart... last the brain...
           i can't even begin to fathom...
how slowly that poor schmuck had to take
to bleed out through his head...
i always return to: how long do you think
it would take...
   being brain dead, with the body still
functioning... like...
oh you know... a brain in a pickle jar,
but rather... a damaged brain...
   and a slowly decomposing body from
a lack of nutrients?
you think that after several days
they plugged him into a hospital drip,
and kept him in the cell for years?
well... one's mind sometimes drifts...
ha ha... to unexpected scenarios...
on a lighter not... i went wild today...
two bottles, one a standard whiskey,
the other? wild turkey...
Kentucky bourbon...
****... there's a story...
        expertly crafted by Kentucky bourbon
hall of Famer Eddie Russell...
we age our bourbon longer -
    up to five or eight years -
in number four "alligator char"
     H'american oak barrels...
**** me...
         with notes of sweet vanilla,
  pear, and hints of spice:

so the Irish have Boston,
while the Polacks have Chicago
over there?
   just wondering...
             it's not like i ever want to visit
America...
           my dream...
hmm...                  the Faroe Islands.