Hey hipster! Hey con-man! Hey there, mister corruption, gnawing on a bone, spittin' and hoicking and lapping up the public funds, hey there, hey there, hey there.
Oh discourse, where to now? Meaning? Art? Music? Peace?
Life - day to day life? Trams? Work? Death? Slavery? Paying off a mortgage?
Shariah law coming soon to Melbourne? Yes? No? Who gives? Give-a-shit? Yabba dabba do?
Oh be-jeesus, life is boring. The daily round. The grind, the weft and pucker and putsch ov it all.
Its boring, Jackie, boring, boring boring. But its the only way we gets to pay back the banks.
Flip! The banks own it all! I'm Rothchilds slave - forever amen!
Blog for the sake of a blog. Reading Middleton for the sake of the alchemic high you get off the meter and linguo-acoustic pseudo-incantational effect? The contact high? You baby, you. You. You - you could be oh so close to Middleton if you wanted. Wanna vomit? Go for it! Lately my previous 20 years of being a truly open minded free-thinker have been rudely disregarded with the manifestation of a strange inner drive to ender myself a slave of Saudi's very own Allah, or some sort of gnani renunciate following the absolute monism of Adi Sankaracarya. What gives? God? I was brought up secular to the core! Ive been a drinker and a low-class member of the chemical avant garde. God is (an)alien to me. I find it so....so hard to believe, to believe the stories. Logic would suggest these philosophies are human inventions...human drives, human creations....I guess i just enjoy experimenting with and contemplating other systems of thought, to live for a while 'as if' i was a follower of such and such. Oh, on 'judgement day' a person like me will have the least excuse. Because i studied it all and rejected it all. I will not have the excuse of being born in greenland and not being near a muslim community centre. Woe is me. woe, woe, woe.
Why are you here. Sap on a dong, juicy juicy juice.
Pick a pack of pipers porker billy bob thornton