hey! i don't mind the dodo! i don't have some neuroticism encompassing vitriol to continue: but sure as ****, you do. what happens when the white ladies die off? **** a monkey?! i accept my fate, like you accept your being bound to heavenly graces of continuum inexhausted with death being a lost concept of compensation... it only takes 2 generations to revise the piglet race... so... where's the competing element of nervosity? really? really?! existential blackmail?! is this how low it has to be grounded in? look at me, do i look like i actually give, a ****?! maybe you do, but this existential blackmail in the anglophone world of puritanical darwinism is not for more... i already find it hard raising jerking off in this world, let alone a pair of tadpoles... honest to god, it's already hard raising a pristine jerking off, let alone a pair of children.

i'm still trying to figure out this existential anglophone
blackmail... it's been bothering me for
ages... i simply can't fathom it...
i really can't stop seeing it as an existential blackmail...
that i somehow need to reproduce...
   that i'm somehow needed, my genes are speaking
to the darwinistic affection
of keeping "form"... can i just say that i don't
get it?! can i just cite that
darwinism has a negative impetus strategy for
invoking existentialism?
    can i just say that darwinism belongs on
the isles, and existentialism
belongs on the continent, and that the two never
are allowed to mingle?
no? so why do i feel blackmailed
into "needing" to reproduce?
besides the point, i never intended,
i was one of the one child state policy of china,
we were always the weirdos -
but the english have half a wits' worth
of understanding of existentialism,
they kept **** *******
darwinism, sorry, but they did...
an ex-girlfriend's father once asked
me: what are the famous poles?
i forgot to reply...
copernicus, marie curie,
          chopin?
   no, doesn't ring a bell in your
paddy sodden brain? **** me,
i'm always late when it comes to
insulting someone, it usually takes me
years upon years to reply an insult...
which makes everything a really bad joke.
but i hate how english existentialism
took off,
   just as bad as my late reaction to
an insult's worth of joke...
     existentialism & darwinism do not exactly
mingle...
        come on, you have to be kidding me...
when it comes to english existentialism
(covert darwinism): i am being blackmailed...
i am literally being blackmailed into
some form of apartheid...
some sort of quasi: apartheid...
no, i'm not equipping myself
with misnomer tactics -
         i'm being blackmailed to: "continue"
my "species"...
  last time i checked,
i couldn't give two ***** of concern
for *queen sheeba's prophecy
of the world being populated by
the copper skinned peoples...
i.e. cuprum populus...
                 somehow darwinism,
existentialism and populism and the general
of competition, have created a toxic affair
of: a complete lack of competing energisation;
sure! the jews will win their "prize"
of recanting their jewel prize of ten diadem
rules...
     among the choccies and the copper skins;
don't you think the jews look a bit
odd, a bit out of place, given that they're
so white, in the middle east?
         oh right, no i remember:
stating the obvious huh? is now considered
a hate speech;
so the fact that the jews returned to the middle
east: kinda bleached, is not, "a bit" weird?
can i have those magic mushrooms now?

i am the one who makes up my owm axi,
rather than be man, in talk of repast,
and fake, and metaphor, and the need for
sleuth... ordeals and godly stature, but only with
orff's carmina burana, we are to dine?!
oh jew, oh arab... why whiff that stink so far
north? familial affairs? concerns? psychiatrists?!
how about an ode to dates
to break the month of ramadam?!
no, you tell me, at, what, point,
am, i, to, understand, you,
before, i, stop, selling, you,
apples, at, the greengrocers?
you gonna fake it and turn all turk
on me? i kinda hope you did,
the time i mentioned henry viii's wives
in a rhyme: charles the first goit the chop,
charles the second managed a harem
but primarily a poet,
charlie ****** the third?
    probably a plush stuffed bunny...
so i tell this homeless person my rhyme...
****! she runs off screaming...
next time i talk to homeless people
i'm brining a monopoly fake of a house
to surround and let the hounds loose on them...
but it's kinda nice... living in a society
that still believes in monarchy...
  i get to talk silly rhymes, just about names,
wives of henry buffon and...
that brothel disease: syphilis and sisyphus!
and that rhyme about 'enry... the 'andy man...
the one that could put up a shelf...
  yeah, that rhyming Olaf...
could get a homeless woman... running...
to fear rhyme...
    just when Otto was in power in germany,
and there was no vogue concerning baptising
babies with that failed name...
you know women, premonitions about
the zodiac and ****... magic...
          crying about the stone cold heart
of men in labs...
   yep, that story, it's boring,
it's history, tried and tested, proofs in pi...
and take to making up
names.
then again, the turks are prettily civil,
they can allow housewives,
and those housewife soaps.. i.e.
operas... i.e. melodrama that doesn't happen
in real life... the turks can stomach that...
ask an arab to provide the same when women
age... he starts a vanity project akin to
a pyramid that is the dubai glass-glacier...
   i know, and many other people
know where the Everest mountain belongs...
should that glass monstrosity belong where it's
currently placed? i'm looking at it and going all
Loci to say the most perfect joke...
   hyper-*****?
     ask the people that built it, the Bangladeshi...
why ask a ******* ****?
     they're bothered by Hindu...
i will add: -stan -stan, never mind Stanley
and why pole is never bothersome
you valentine crisp day-care centre worth of emotion...
  i don't get bothered whether you smack your
head against a pole, polejump, and polish
a wooden table... ****... get along with it...
english says don't when it says do not...
**** is acronym, ever heard of those?
     -        do i look like a queen Sheeba prediction
of copper skinned waiting for vitamin D
like i might wait for a suntan?!
yeah, i probably do...
but can you grow mushrooms on the tip of everest
from a horse's ****, giving there's so little atmosphere?
can fungi grow in zero oxygen environments?
  next, i'll say: i feel like growing one on my toe...
and be called an athlete...
     hail Olympus! ooh... hail 'eno... z...
    harp and snore... the anti clues given to both
orchestras...
apparently life was so very different back then,
thankfully my nostalgia only goes as far back
as the 1990s (nineteen nine tee offs)...
  before zeitgeist piracy and when your bought music.
i just find it funny how people get offended
by someone's spelling accuracy,
it's like people want people to become dyslexic...
no one seems offended when a triangle isn't
drawn...  ******! draw a triangle!
  a bit like: write something that doesn't require
spell-check!
              i always believed in people and literacy,
evidently people these days don't believe in either...
and yes, the Japanese really did write better cartoons
than the Mc Disney brigade...
they acutally invoked *** in their cartoons...
you know, once you learn english
you learn alice, the "wonderland" and the inherent
joke that the english language can't rub off,
namely paedohpilia...
           *** aware once able to take ***-invoking selfies
and posting them online?
  huh?
          you've been giving the status of a global
sprechen, and it's the internet, so apparently it's not real,
apparently the matrix metaphor can last for
30 more years...
of course the internet isn't real,
what with internet banking, hacking, politics,
the death of 20th century concept of window shopping...
the internet isn't real... what with
online dating... brothel services...
   THE INTERNET IS IN ITS INFANCY,
DO YOU EXPECT PEOPLE TO TELL YOU
ANYTHING APART FROM TRYING TO CALM YOU?!
   i too wished i wasn't the lab rat... evidently
the lab came before i realised i was a rat in it...
          they tell you it isn't real,
they tell you all that *******...
and sure, i buy it...
       it's just one thing,
they tell you the internet isn't real
when they accepted that the phonebook was real...
and yet they do their banking, on, the internet...
  what is and what isn't real... kinda happened...
and is already pointless to talk about.

even wording an intellectual debate
focusing on the word: warrior,
is, to me, something of a ****-in-your-underwear
and then swing it around like a missile
and hope that the other monkey is dead...

what do i find in terms of persistent Darwinism?
media akin to Groundhog day replication,
a distrust of media and politics
doesn't go anywhere akin to El Dorado,
it goes to areas of grey and thistles, and weeds,
and trying to defend a political system
that monopolises on the media? e.g. Iraq.

what's the modern trait of the **** sapiens?
he's not intimidated by the advertisement
industry to spend, he saves his buck...
modern **** sapiens feels no regret at not
having the chance to procreate with neanderthal
women who shout rather than moan,
modern **** sapiens isn't wooed by the ooh's and
the ah's of a modern public audience,
modern **** sapiens man isn't ready to turn
women into butchers in Afghanistan,
or what Sappho called: butch, butch, butchy, butch-butch,
      target practice for the *****:
   now your chance to shoot a machinegun.

the **** sapiens doesn't get the Coliseum,
in whatever shape or form as the modern solution
to what would otherwise be: watching paint dry,
    there's no football Sunday over brunch to
holler and cheer and get things done.

the **** sapiens man will not mate with a neanderthal
woman of these times... he has no need to lose
his integrity to mate with these over-sexualised creatures...
modern **** sapiens lives in a time when
science has lost its mojo,
and became arrogant like a chef cooking up
Sicilian pasta in Chuckle Street...
   modern **** sapiens man does not grace procreating
with the mannequins of neanderthal women...
oversexualised and almost Somali in caricature,
which is hardly 5 brats running around for the stately
                 feeding...

modern **** sapiens isn't interested in how offensive you
sound, or how uninteresting you actually are,
the 26 digits on your tongue will never quill a
woodpecker readied for carpentry...
you have physicists for that and that ancient gauge
of sclera iris and pupil: which kinda looks
like clouds, green, brown, blue, grey,
              pupil and to whatever necessary telescope
for the constellations / twinkle in the eye...

     the modern **** sapiens doesn't want to procreate
with modern neanderthal women because
he thinks his feces will smell of mustard...
          he's ashamed about the way sport has
replaced national identity,
              and that watching ***** do the exodus from
a ******* and assimilate into a genesis of an ****
has become magnified into 22 wankers kicking
a ball between two fishnet stocking pair of legs...
              neanderthal women get it,
**** sapiens man doesn't... he's wondering why
there haven't been many drunk intellectuals...
                to state this case.

**** sapiens man is wondering why this isn't even
an insult... by a version of a continuum
best addressed when worded, rather than
    chess-chanced on a board of fixations and
cheap-labour and psychiatrically guised excuses
that are in concerto: lethargy etiam propus.

   **** sapiens is wondering why history froze,
and this be the new ice age...
and why only one day gets a mention,
he's wondering why there's no media sabbath...
         i.e.: when no news happens.

**** sapiens is bewildered by this fresh zeitgeist
of having a need to speak...
  **** sapiens is wondering: why Ned the Destroyer?
**** sapiens is asking: what about the think?
       **** sapiens says of neanderthals:
i guess they really need to talk
because they cannot accept the monotheistic concept
of thought, and stress the democratic: blah blah brechen
to protest, stitch placards and walk a lot and do
cathedral bells a justice of repeating chants: kneel
to pray! tramps aren't trump! etc.

**** sapiens says: they once imagined telepathic
with telekinetic and then they said no to Marxism...
now there don't seem to be that many individuals around
apart from those in suicidal succor.

all in all, **** sapiens simply says:
i will not fornicate with these neanderthal women!
i don't care what my genetic prenup would look like,
    it might look ugly, it might look pretty...
            if we're going down this route...
there's me: exit,
                and then these women:
            lamenting what queen Sheeba said to
king Solomon:
                          the copper skinned will rule the world.

well, here's me and my automated reliance on
extinction...
                           i'm taking a bow...
i'm bowing out...
                                i find only one sensual solace in
this world...
                    music...
                           ­         i'm bowing out of the rest
that comes like a Mongolian revival of a horde...
          and even if there was a love for a woman worth
defending... i already declassified it as
neanderthal... so much for Darwinism when uncoupled
from theology and coupled to history;
evidently my mind is a bit blank when i try to go beyond
the written records... nice gallery by the way...
sure, the shrunken coccyx gave it away...
and i wish i was... doing acrobatics on trees, still;

**** sapiens said of neanderthals:
if only you had an immune system built to
                                        not succumb to advertisement!

but **** sapiens man said: poach the ivory,
but the elephant will play you a trumpet underwater,
      and you'll ask: why?
              because if the elephant farted you'd
get a methane jacuzzi, and not a quasi-jazz concert...
that wasn't even meant to be funny.