Against The Odds?

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Life begins with us being dragged, kicking and screaming from our mothers vagina, and then it's all downhill from there. Some people are born stupid and will spend most of their lives shoving junk food into their mouths and trying not to bump into any obstacles that don't have the corresponding genitals. For those of you who weren't blessed with stupidity then there are some magical herbs that will help to defend you from your own piece of shit mind. I won't name them but they're famously available in Amsterdam, parts of America, and from a bloke in Liverpool called Billy Baggy. I'm an over-thinker, which means that as soon as it gets dark, my brain likes to torment me to the point that if I worked in a motel, I'd probably be dressing up as it and killing people as they shower. With the magical herbs however, the world is a beautiful place to behold. There's no stress, everything tastes nicer, and things are incredibly entertaining to simply stare at. I once spent about fifteen minutes looking at a door handle because it was just so god-damn fucking shiny and white.

The Bear Necessities

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Is it just me or is Obi-Wan Kenobi a bit of a titty-twat? From a certain point of view, I mean! Consider that he's fully aware that Luke's dad is an asthmatic black dildo and yet rather than tell him the truth he instead throws him a load of bullshit and then buggers off to die. Just think about that for one second! He actually sent someones son to unknowingly kill his own father by saying “Hey, that evil guy killed your dad! Now go and stab him in his fucking head”. I mean surely that's a bit much, isn't it? And this whole lie was just because he preferred to paint the truth with metaphors over simply admitting that he'd been a bit of a shit teacher to Anakin. I mean, to be fair, if I was training somebody to protect the universe and then they turned into a kill-crazy dictator, I'd probably hush it up too. I suppose that's got to be like being a human-biology teacher and then finding out that your star pupil is Josef Mengele. It's not that it's your fault but you'd definitely refrain from mentioning it in future job interviews. My point is that, where poetic license is concerned, there's a time and place. Everybody will have a different opinion on when you can get creative with the truth although surely we have to agree that patricide isn't one of them!  

I Know That I Know Nothing

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I know that when I meet new people I ask a lot of questions, but what's so bad about that? Oh look, there was a question! But are questions really so bad? Oh- there was another! People criticise me for asking pointless questions but if you're talking to another human for the first time then I think there's a lot of important things that need to be asked. Do you believe in God? Do you like cartoons? These are decisive factors regarding whether or not I think we can be friends. For me the answer to both of those big questions is of course not, I'm not a fucking child... just kidding, I love cartoons! Also, for the record, if I am asking too many questions then maybe it's because you're not pulling your weight in whatever shit conversation I'm being forced to have with you. If I don't know you then the odds are I don't want to be talking to you and so have ended up in the situation against my will. So you know... do your bit, dickhead!  

Whatever Floats Your Boat

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I think that a persons obsessions tells you a lot about who they are. Are you obsessed with football, fashion or kiddie porn? Meh... Then fuck it- we probably wouldn't get along. For me it has to be films with one particular highlight of my life being the year I spent alone watching three or four of them a night... anything to break up the crying and wanking I suppose. Anyway, during this time I basically face planted the world of cinema and learned as much shit as I could to help distract me from the great depression that is my life. As a result I learnt about a chap called Werner Herzog whose bleak outlook made my own darkness look like a warm puddle of piss in a vast ocean of grim. To be frank, I think that the guy is a fucking genius. For anybody unaware of who he is, I'll explain a bit more in a second but to set him up I have a little quote. You know the sheer beauty of the exotic jungle? Well, during the making of his film Fitzcarraldo, Herzog saw it a little differently, “Of course, there's a lot of misery. But it is the same misery that is all around us. The trees here are in misery, and the birds are in misery. I don't think they- they sing. They just screech in pain.” There is nothing that I want more than for Herzog to develop a second career as a zoo tour guide. Can you imagine it? “The Lion is suffering in his rusty man-made cage while the Kangaroo hops about with an ecstatic insanity... And the Orang-utan? Well he just stares into the abyss like a great ginger cunt”. Ah... A boy can dream.