Month: June 2012

I Remember When I Lost My Mind, There Was Something So Pleasant About That Place

Insane? Once I went insane. They locked me in a room and fed me peanuts and unicorn meat. Then I thought I was a rat and tried to gnaw through the leather straps holding me to the bed. Then they put a microchip in my spine in order to read my mind, and it worked, but luckily my mind was written in a code using animal sounds, Chinese symbols and the knickers Amy Winehouse was buried in. Then I found Jesus in the cupboard and he cured me and they released me. On the way out the giant gay rats came falling out of the sky faster than a foreskin off a Jew. I hate rats. The drive me insane. Insane? Once I went insane. They locked me in a room and fed me-

You’re Dangerous, Cause Your Honest

Today there are 7 billion people on this fucked up planet, and a few more on the way. I grew up believing that every person has the power and potential to change the world for the better, so one day when our children read their history books, they will see how bad it was and how good we made it, but unfortunately these days, people are more interested in deleting their history than changing it.

This was written on the back of a bathroom door in a men’s public toilet. There was a name below, presumably of the author but it was smeared and impossible to read. Strangely, it was written in two shades of lipstick. So either he had no pen or marker on him when inspiration struck and he borrowed his girlfriends or there was a queue for the ladies and she really needed to go or, you know, he is just a dude who likes lipstick, I ain’t judging, in fact I’m all for it. Bring on the lipstick, just keep it away from me, reminds of this joke, what is the purple thing at the end of every man’s cock? Paris Hilton’s lipstick. See what I did there? I…..yeah, you get it. Anyway you have to feel some sort of sympathy (and admiration) for the author whose inspiration is aroused by the smell of their own shit.

This Is The Movie Of The Screenplay Of The Book About A Girl Who Meets A Junkie

Just for once I want to watch a movie where the bomb-maker used a bit of foresight and spray painted the green, blue and red wires black so as to add some real confusion to the bomb disposal person’s face as he stares at the wires struggling to remember whether it is the red, blue or green, only to realise that it doesn’t matter because all the wires are black. Now it’s just dumb luck, which is no real difference as nobody ever seems to remember which fucking wire to pull anyway.