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Wednesday, March 15, 2006
say these phrases out loud and change your lifeHere is the deal.
I want YOU, dear reader, to choose one or more of these
phrases writ here below.
I want you to go out and drop one of them into
a conversation or just blurt it out randomly
in the bus queue or wherever.
Try to add a little expresiveness when you say it.
Why, you may ask, should I want to do a daft thing like that?
Well, I would reply, because it could crack a hole in the mundane
shell and allow Blakean reveries safe passage into our realm
where they can practice great Karmic magic, help to raise
conciousness of our higher purpose , that being
to feed our collective godhead through sublime fits of ecstatic hysteria.
This is the antidote to war.
Come on do it!!
You might have fun too ;-)
1. I couldn't give a nun's crispy cunt what you think.
2. I'd rather eat a wet sandwich.
3. Would you like to see my collection of butchers hooks?
4. I'd trot a pony up Highbury Fields for ha'penny.
5. We sent blind Alf Hang-gliding.
6. Twenny kilo of copper bolts for the pressure cooker please luv.
7. Howz about a drizzling o' hot suet in yer furry leotard?
8. I'd swap a dozen hairlip albinos for a cucumber.
9. I'd slide a fiver through the gates of Timbuktu for that.
sketched by dweller at 10:47 pm4 comments
Here is my Rap I am writing on the spot,
Universal lines spreading from the one dot,
Clean out your cupboards lads I can't stand the grot,
If you turn around I find your hips quite hot,
Or do you have the shapely thighs your mother lent you
Do you have the laddered tights your aunty dreamt you
Do you have the bits of apple clinging to your teeth
Do you have an old marks and sparks voucher from 1981
In your mother's leather purse in that tray of old papers,
Smells of stale consulate and solicitors office dust,
Claim I never knew whats happening
Claim I never knew whats happening,
Dirty dirty filth slag hate bitch whine,
Your arse their cunt all in the passage of time,.
I remember the days of Earth Wind and Fire,
Nasty gold costumes and the music was so dire,
But even then the clogs of kellogs boxes in the bins,
Read the back and listen to Wogan mornings of hidden sin,
The throat is quiet words are notably absent,
All the lies are stacking up and telepathy gates are opened,
A child has an eye to replace the ears that cannot comprehend,
But now this child he has no eye for it let far too much in,
Switch out the sun what do you expect a pleasant dawning?
Get real ya monkeys,
its a crackerjack cabbage in your hands forever!!!!!!!
sketched by dweller at 1:18 pm0 comments
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