Someone
stop the director before he makes a fool out of another helium balloon on its
way to a coat and tail show off the South Pacific. In fact, why not someone
shoot the bastard before he can finish this bum of a film for the thrush
demographic he so ardently tries to vitrify. Yes, I vindicate murder when it is
necessary and when I’m necessarily drunk and off my medication. Don’t worry, it’s
not exactly prescription and my wife is just as much of a wallow as I am. Okay
so she isn’t my wife but she is my common house partner and, in being such, is
open to all regulations and cutlery finance options. I am kind, much as that
would shock you. I do myself an honour by breathing every day and make sure
that I leave behind a few tips for the peasant children to carry back to my
funeral parlour. The frazzle is just leading me on and I won’t be having it on
my filing cabinet. Some would turn the hose on me but I know that Erasmus would
sooner save my brackish skin from the inherent tentacles. He’s a good lad is
Erasmus, provided you don’t attend one of his cocktail mixers. They can turn
you to stone with a flick of an amp.
This
is certainty they told me, this is certainty they keep telling me while I’m
busy fishing out the key rings of abandoned school projects and my rubbers are curling
the hairs like scimitars and I suppose there’s stuff to be done whilst I’m
still vacant and trespassing on my own hairless flesh. This might be a good
problem for better men to solve but I am half-Irish so I’ll settle for that and
wear my most iron-worthy shirt, the one with the pinstripe pockets and silken
cufflinks. The day will be saved by shaving cavemen and I will run amok in a
town straight out of a comic book because I can and I’m surreally poor by today’s
austere standards. This is the word that tunes out your ears and I know you can’t
stand to keep them from twitching. So twitch. Just do this for me, while they’re
out fetch me a pail of vials and I’ll fill them with my specimens until the day
that farts issue forth from the
undergrowth without animal consumption and conjunctivitis. As of today I am
growing my own twinkle toes and then I will file down the nails to a perfect
prick and sell each of them on to different threads of government. This is
exactly the shit they need to end all the dastardly scheming going on within
their own four colour walls. The war on platforms will end soon enough and on a
plinth no less, I imagine that it will be black and shined in places and spots
where the fingers fall. The thumbs are fine though, they just let off a few
fumes and that’s all good in the hood.
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