Sunday, August 09, 2009

The Things a Man Learns in 25 Years of Life. JAZZ MASTER 7

I spent the first 4 hours of today vomiting sporadically. Drink water. Sit on couch for 15 minutes. Run to toilet. Sppeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwww!! I learnt that I'm quite vocal. On that last wretch when all you are is battery acid and burnt tyres I go "ahhhhhhhhhhhhh" and then probably 'aww jezusssss". I went outside to pat the dog and yacked while wearing sunglasses. I'm pretty sure Bill Clinton did that once. Then he played the sax and boned his secretary. Allegedly.

When you're on your knees in the bathroom or lying on the floorboards looking at the ceiling you wonder what a man learns in 25 years of life.

Not a lot.
Not a lot.

Also, that Vegan Death Cult letter is for real. I didn't forge that shit. I know who did though. And you're going to taste dance floor justice. 100 Demons style.

(Whatever that means)

Also, MAY NOT, actually know who sent that letter but I do know it has to be someone which probably could be you if I thought about it, which, my friends, I have.

Too many commas? They're cheap. I like to sprinkle, them, liberally,. Like, Colin, Barnett, sprinkles Rohypnol, on, his own, breakfast, of goat yoghurt, and , sea, gull, eggs.

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