****, no better hard-on apart from listening to some bruce springsteen and reading something from the book of malachi...

  my name will be great among the nations, from where the sun rises to where it sets: i.e. in english...

         good on y'ah pastor...

                 i admit, oh lord,
distinguishing between the righteous and
the religious folk...
hard to tell the tale of either,
most excruciating is when,
the two congregate...

     malachi (4:6)
he will turn the hearts of the parents to their children,
and the hearts of the children to their parents;
or else i will come and strike the land
   with total destruction.

you know my offering unto my father
this father's days?
the usual...
taking out the *******,
cooking some food,
          watering the flowers
in the garden...
  it wasn't a carboard cut-out
******* of the west...
oh, i'm well versed in bible jargon...

        i'm half a man? i'm not insulted...
because i didn't grow up to be a man
and have children?
  talk about a miracle being
a walking abortion!
      isn't kierkegaard or nietzsche
or kant the hälftemann?
"half" the man?
   so much for the "Übermensch",
more like: parodiemensch these days...
send the teens to the cinema
while the parents stay at home,
when, the inverse was corrected
and the parents went to the cinema
and when kid sitters were required...
like... shirley maclaine: hot as ****...
and the whole gig of trampolines...
or whatever you called them in the 1960s...
elevator operators... ****...
that's what you called them...

****... better start telling the pro-life
movement that,
whenever i ******* into a tissue
i get a sense of being the next
pol ***...
        i guess the ***** was always
dead in me,
   and "magically" became
                             alive in a woman...
well: here's to another genocide...
oh sure...
    having started aged 8,
     castration wouldn't be a problem...
the male sensation of an ******
isn't related to ******* anything as such...
you can experience an ******
as an 8 year old...
   but there's no ***** to be *******...
still...
        prostitutes are pro-life,
but they don't gamble / bribe the argument...
that was the worst time in my life...
   being bribed: the "oops" moment...
there was about as much "oops" in
that moment, as there was kama sutra
in oppenheimer's vedic citation.
or is that somehow related to shooting
out hollow eggs all the time,
              it was one thing to call
me irresponsible,
another: no legal contract,
                "man-up"...
                           ­ that's probably the only
reason i ever went to a *******...
had to check the ground...
  fiddle my way through
some sort of justification
    in order to not be shouted down
by some day-time agony aunt jerry
springer host on t.v.,
            and to be honest?
   once that brothel transaction went through?
and i saw with clear eyes,
what an authentic transaction looks like?
all that pandering, dates,
   clothes shopping...
           n'ah...
             give me a cube:
   i'll put it through the square hole...
give me an sphere,
              i'll put it through the circle hole.

my present for father's day?
my daddy-oh received a letter from
the p.m. of england,
mr. cameron, how he was the goodie-goodie
good-shoe tight left foot bloat
when paying taxes...
    paid them...
                  a regular at the tax olympics...
me? i don't pay taxes,
i don't earn enough...
i have a student loan...
almost halfway through,
once i reach 30+ years it will be written
off...
              i'd pay... if i landed
a chemistry job... since working in
a supermarket is all i'm ever going to get?
**** 'em...
              i'll wait... then i'll take the
dutch youth route of asking for
euthanasia... well... it's not like i will
jive to have a life worth of living
for... just... strangers...

see, i have found release...
   i'm so unterribly unjealous of my father...
he can have all the praises...
he's also an only-child,
abandoned by his mother and father,
raised by his grandparents...
   i'm half a man by not risking
to establish a family, a legacy,
by marrying?
you know... funny that...
i'd rather take my chances
with a grizzly bear than a woman...
at least me and a grizzly is
a 1-on-1 interaction...
no third party bullshitters in-between...
no bureaucratic stalemates,
no bureaucratic no-man's land...
no bureaucratic frustration...
                  me, grizzly:
either i skin the ******,
or? i get mauled... easy-peasy-japanese!
i like that absolute "conundrum"...

oh i still live with my parents...
england, housing shortage...
        this is probably the right time to "love"
your parents...
or at least mind them,
i don't mind them, i do most of the household
chores, then i drink at night...
they don't mind me drinking:
unless... unless i don't shower for more than
2 days... then i start to stink of a brewery...
well... either this or...
the forest floor, or homeless in loon'don...
not much choice... certainly no environment
for a girlfriend...
and, girlfriend, mind you...

    i like listening to all these vollmensch:
the full men...
   so wise, so wise,
with their wife and children,
always with the ideal prescription
for existence!
               taken risk, bounty,
result! boo y'ah!
              yes, when you already have
what you're prescribing others to take...
mind you...
again, to reiterate...
       kant was a bachelor...
                   i like that he completed his
adventure into "manhood" as less
an atheist: in need of people to be listened to
akin to chrissy hitchens...
   and more a solipsist...
              i guess i'm the child
of his thinking...
  so much for ******* i guess...
ugh... the anglophile world and its
fanaticism surrounding darwinism
and the big bang (bang, bang in a vacuum?)...
genes and i.q.,
what dry intellectual debates...
proper suited to a butcher's shop than
a cafe, and... god forbid a brothel!
give me a slab of raw beef meat
and an english tongue and i'll
cut you the same slab of something
worth satiating the hungry palette.

   h'america is still christ crazed,
sitting down congregation in easy armchairs...
armored to the **** with futility after futility
to mar the existence of the atom bomb:
more bullets, more guns, more money...
nuclear is the antithesis of warfare...
one drop, the end... who needs a war akin
to that?

                    i stopped looking toward h'america
a long time ago...
                   england is choking me as it is...
i'm looking toward germany come early 20th century
thought... ****... maybe i should be looking
toward to Moldova, anything but this,
any form of escapism will help...
   Greenland, the Faroe Islands...
          
i'll go as far as to say:
i'd quit drinking...
           if i was contracted a decent ****
from Tehran.