Saturday, October 02, 2004

ooh baby, you know what that's worth

do you know where you're going to? do you like the things that life is showing you? are you going to? do you know?
you know, everything has a beginning, a middle and an end. cliched,yes i am fuck you, but it's goddamn true.
look at your dead grandparents for example.
they are dead.
you are not dead.
see the difference?
being dead is fucking lame. i mean, dead people can't help being lame. because they're dead.
but shit, being alive rocks. i might as well do it as long as i can. remember the swiss cake rolls? things will be different once we have an extravaganza for all. and remember to shove that turtledove out, lest we may perish.
so sayeth the shepherd, so sayeth the flock.
fuck your grandma's favorite vase. she didn't know what was up anyway. did she really?
i'm sorry if your grandmammy is still kicking it and shit, cuz i don't mean to bug ya, like the edge, but still, grandmammy likes to kick that shit togethah. don't you know. you do. and you shall. buttress of creme de brulele plus cheese and gravy.
fuck chinese passenger trains.

you know what i'm saying. damn. and shit.
fudge pucking mud rucking for the lame at ill.
you know, things will be different once we reach the land of canaan. fuck childhood. the coat of many colors belongs to me, not joseph. your life is all a lie, based on false pretenses.
you also know that america is afraid of tom t. hall. suck that down and chew on it before biting.

so sayeth the shepherd.
so sayeth the flock.

go go go autocratic society!
go go go martial law!
go go go cabaret license enforcement!
go go go naked pygmie love!

shovels are available for those tho have completed passforms that are no longer part of the system. but if you ask don in hrfuckddrucker, you will killl him and his skills in short time. ah, if only i weren't so ham handed, i might miss my hyphenated cue.
fuck america.
fuck chocolate syrup dripping chocolate number atop tits is good. no more extraterrestrial soap.

thanks for being dead for awhile. don't worry you'll die again.
and again and again and again.
i begat bernard sumner, who begat alfred hotchkiss, who begat pater punter, who begat america.
thank you lovely children of the seefeel chocolate factory. based in britain, no doubt.
fudge is better than children.
the future does NOT belong to the children.
the future belongs to my pacifist leanings.
nor are you a member of my societal basis.
take that chatham!
maybe you had sex with the spinster.
she didn't tell me, for she is not with us.
nor is she with child.
even if she did have sex.
one does not begat the other, don't you know?
i thought you could tell me the name of my bicep purchaser.
i suppose not.
for you don't have bacon or children that are baked.
at least from my perspective.
pimps for damnation. start the debate.

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