All my pwoblems,
who knows, maybe evwybody’s pwoblems
is due to da fact, due to da awful twuth
dat I am SPIDERMAN.

I know, I know. All da dumb jokes:
No flies on you, ha ha,
and da ones about what do I do wit all
doze extwa legs in bed. Well, dat’s funny yeah.
But you twy being
SPIDERMAN for a month or two. Go ahead.

You get doze cwazy calls fwom da
Gubbener askin you to twap some booglar who’s
only twying to wip off color T.V. sets.
Now, what do I cawre about T.V. sets?
But I pull on da suit, da stinkin suit,
wit da sucker cups on da fingers,
and get my wopes and wittle bundle of
equipment and den I go flying like cwazy
acwoss da town fwom woof top to woof top.
Till der he is. Some poor dumb color T.V. slob
and I fall on him and we westle a widdle
until I get him all woped. So big deal.

You tink when you SPIDERMAN
der’s sometin big going to happen to you.
Well, I tell you what. It don’t happen dat way.
Nuttin happens. Gubbener calls, I go.
Bwing him to powice, Gubbener calls again,
like dat over and over.

I tink I twy sometin diffunt. I tink I twy
sometin excitin like wacing cawrs. Sometin to make
my heart beat at a difwent wate.
But den you just can’t quit being sometin like
SPIDERMAN.
You SPIDERMAN for life. Fowever. I can’t even
buin my suit. It won’t buin. It’s fwame wesistent.
So maybe dat’s youwr pwoblem too, who knows.
Maybe dat’s da whole pwoblem wif evwytin.
Nobody can buin der suits, dey all fwame wesistent.
Who knows?
--JIM HALL

oh sorry...

    great movie review...

   paul-keel paul-kee,

another day
  in a never-ending
tomorrow,

  i must be either assimilant
or neither of the proper sense,
being lied to,
  told: you threw a pint
glass across the pub floor...
****** pub mind you...

  fowever much i find i find
your daughters fascinating,
i hope they end up
like your daughters of rotherham,
you pigs you
            bulldogs of slobbering
conscience...
   not fit for either the army
or the police force!

             i leave you with only
one, only one ultimatum:
              you have no excuses!
        degenarates! ****** fascists!
stop imitating arabs and *******
your cousins!
one ultimatum!
   only one ultimatum!
                  you have no excuses!
and that's the ultimatum!

you better do likewise akin to
the picts,
  start deep-frying mars candy bars,
and pretending to look ugly...
to ward off those who might
bite into a 'aggis neeps & tatties
for a better worth of a christian
trinity!

           send an irishman with a sentence
of heritage to scotland
to learn of the celt... and the gaelic!
         send the scoot
to reeshland...
                      and tell him the same fabble
of the gael!
then tire, of tomorrow.
  
and those pompous **** ways  
of the english...
   their pretentiousness
and their manners,
          and their good-attempting-tough
pair of shoes...
        no, these *******
were no match in their
angevin days...
            overcome by one sickly
augustus...
                  christened philip...
              
  let's agree, at least their daughters
are becoming bilingual,
in the most unsophisticated way...
     but who am i to avenge?
     well, not me,
   apparently i threw a pint glass
across the pub floor...
  apparently i was the invader!
   sometimes invading a place
can be the most passive act of self-assertion...

question the irish, question the picts,
question the longbowmen
that the welsh are...
              and then ask:
    are you sure you have a daughter,
and not mere alimony?
oh, that's right... a pakistani go-free card,
well, who could blame you for your
grand-grand-grandfather's colonial past...
who could blame you!?
   who could blame you
like you blame the neo-fascists for
the holocaust?!

minority report ***** and *****.