Sunday, 19 March 2017

Jesus Beta 9 "Cuckoo Spit"

Faith is an operating system, so, is Love; not far behind.. it can be used Autonomously, i.e. with "your eyes closed"  by its own acreage of previously built places in your head... and instinctively as a weapon to those expecting no answer... 

When did you last update and upgrade?... isn't it time for a moment of darkness while the "Flash-Ware", not Warez!... hard resets your whole system and state of perception... the Update can be hard to take... some never get the required backup, from helplines, or even friends, coz they got none... except Google...

Google Loves me, Coz it remembers me, every time I; log on up.. to the Clouds of Cyber unity... where I can live a real life in a reflection by the wonderment of semantics and shared experience... in that place, I always feel safe...

Coz, the moving finger writes... and nothing can kill a good idea or even a modest postulation... if you hide the scrolls in a cave..

I wrote "Cuckoo Spit" as a Neural network OS.. but hey.. isn't that you n Me... anybody who reads me will be Free from Trojans, Rootkits, unwanted fingers in your panties... it is self-activating and repairing, You'll never be at a loss for words again..

"Please do not turn off or unplug your Mind till you Hear bells in your ears.."  I am your Engineer from the rear... do not squeeze your pelvic floor too tightly, as you may Rupture your Rectum...

Please help yourself to a free Starbucks and Danish... You won't have to wait for long.. our friendly staff are always on hand to give you relief, to get You better sooner and much happier later...

also help yourself to all the Drugs you may need, free of charge.. here at the Spare body parts and Organ donors Lending Library...

Thank-you it will be worth it.. Eugenics is pain-free for eternity... it's a better way to build a better You... and keep the untermench away from your door.. Because the world is a better place when "every life is a Chosen Life".. 

our Motto is *No more Mongrels*

Thursday, 16 March 2017

there Was a Girl..

there Was a Girl Who used to Love me.. I cant remember her name.. I never met Her.. best Love I never ever had.. Perfect.. just fun and laughs... then it got too serious...

we became self conscious.. and the bubble was Bust.. then we fell to Earth... with a Crunch and a Bump and a Bonk!?.. well virtually.. Fun is better than coming... it lasts longer, and always delights in the refracted old memories relived in moments of Melancholic reverie.. that almost kill you as you remember it.. enough to spill your drink..

too painful to even think it; to retrieve even the bookmark thumbnail, at its memory location, to Bury it in a grave of forgetting... where inner Blood letting and sacrificial tears evaporate like a corpse in a Furnace turns to Ashes.. 

between birth and the Fire.. aspire to be Guilty, and admit your sins.. the Ego is Burnt, only a good intention lives further.. Nobility of the soul is the natural ambition of a humble and eternal Spirit.. where Kindness is the Water it washes in..

Yes: There was a Girl who used to Love me.. it was My Mum..

there is a kind of Masochism in Heartbreak that is Bitter sweet, fun to chew but not eat.. and bordering on a kind of Melancholic Masturbation... sadness is a losers secret gladness.. and excuse to raid the Fridge.. Yet Madness controlled is the highest achievement of consciousnesses.. leads to endless hours on XBOX LIVE and tons of old fashioned Fun Ha ha..'~'

Add me and talk live... my Tag name is in a recent Blog.. like 500 ago.. if you care enough to bother go Look.. dont expect to be spoon fed.. some things you need to work out... from scratch..

Wednesday, 15 March 2017

Binary Transcendence:

01001100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00101100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101000 01101001 01100111 01101000 01100101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 01101101 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101110 01110011 01100011 01101001 01101111 01110101 01110011 01101110 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110101 01101110 01101001 01110110 01100101 01110010 01110011 01100101 00111011 00100000 01000010 01101100 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01100111 01101001 01110110 01100101 01110010 01110011 00101110 00101110

Dreaming beyond your means

buying a Lottery ticket is just like waiting for Heaven to come.. sadly your number will come up way before you win it.. you are helping strangers get rich who dont deserve it.. 

but before it comes up, one thing you do have.. is a Passport to dream.. but beware of dreaming beyond your means.. disappointment is the land of the Loser... your empty little life like a used cigarette in an ashtray filled with burnt out Butt's..

Stogies to Ashes and dust to dust.. but nothing can dash the optimism of a dreamer.. Hope maybe torn to shreds and weather-worn but the feint spark of possibility keeps you ticking over to gasp for another breath, and a mouthful of food..

Melancholy is the only excitement some people know... in a million Bed-sits and Garrets the world over, "all the lonely people, where do they all come from".. where do they all end up..

if your Soul is stillborn with disappointment, into a hell that refuses to let you go.. in a surrogate life that nobody else wanted.. what a good excuse to ask Why.. to the unanswered question, what is the point of existence... Why am I me.. who am I and why.. randomness or predestination... Existence itself is a profound practical Joke.. in the Laboratory of Matter.. a game of metaphysical chess, where most lives are stalemate..

played by a God we can never comprehend the ulterior motives of... dont even ask, just submit to it..

Sunday, 12 March 2017

Old Gal Update

Yet again; I see that Old Gal walking in the Park.. looking slightly flaky and demented.. She saw me, and kept looking back to see if I was gaining on her.. I pretended not to see Her.. She was 300 + yards away.. but My distance vision is very acute.. especially with binoculars..

Poor old thing.. I wonder if Shes Pre-Paid Her funeral.. they sell em hard on TV these days.. Her Daughter aint got long.. mind you they could bury Her in a Shoe box.. as there is so little of Her.. You could do the whole funeral for under a Tenner.. I nearly sent Her an anonymous Valentine card.. which would have read.. something like this; but with more heavily linguistic sculpturing, and distasteful imagery..

Nobody wants You for a valentine, who could want to be involved with a person, who is so deeply and tragically in love with themselves... so cold, mean, and self obsessed... with affected airs and graces, and pulled faces.. who wants a freak for a Lover, who resembles an anatomists donated corpse.. Eat something you vein cow.. get fat for christs sake.. 

Men want Chubby Fanny's not skinny dick grinders, cutting them to shreds with your sharp Pelvic bones!.. get a life and GET FAT you'll never look back.. Fat people may fart a lot.. but they are Happy!.. you miserable dour bitch.. enjoy a Good Shit for a change.. not a squirt of dark matter laced with Laxatives.. you ought to wear Nappies or a Tampon up your anus..

your Panties must look like a Pollock; with a heavy period plus permanent diarrhoea... mind you such things have won the Turner prize..

dont take offence I was just being playful if not brutally honest.. coz you will never be happy till you eat a decent meal, and feel full again... when your fat, Boys will want to shag you again.. coz Fat girls are so desperate for dick they'll fuck anything, even an Alsatian.. a well carved cucumber is every lonely girls friend.. then you can have a salad afterwards..

Yours sincerely quite concerned and somewhat repulsed:

send my good wishes to Your long suffering Mother..

Saturday, 25 February 2017

Empty Years..

Those Empty Broken heart'ed Years.. ''beautiful desolation'' as Neil Armstrong said upon the Moon..

if you can appreciate Desolation.. You are finally Alive.. welcome to the Wasteland.. its full of gems hidden in dirt and tears... the dirt and shit is where all the Art is..

UNFUCK YOURSELF.. equalise and be attuned... dont be Groomed into submission.. release the child inside You and never be Old again...

Fun is.. 
the Active principle 
of consciousnesses..

Om, Amen, etc.. 

You are Loved 
cant feel it yet..

I pity You with my tears:

that Old Gal...

Remember the Old 64 (then) Woman I was interested in DEC b4 last?.. I saw her yesterday and luckily avoided being seen by her.. 

but I still detect She is not really happy and fulfilled, only dragged across the ground by Her Mentally ill Messianic Maniac self obsessed Anorexic fatalistic sacrificial self harming egomaniac.. daughter of Doom and certain Death.. 

How could anybody love someone, who hates them-self so much as to starve to death.. for minor insignificant reasons... such is dysmorphia..

Remember everybody Dies.. just some run to catch it..

She has my sympathy.. and My love..


Wednesday, 22 February 2017


SUCK YOUR BUDS... get high off it more than twice.. Hold gently upon the tongue, like like a Virgins Clitoris.. YEAH; for approx 2 mins MAX.. dont get it too wet.. then put it out on a plate or receptacle to Dry out again... and You will find Mary-jane goes farther than you thought, and you still get a hit when you smoke it..

This message was brought to You by.

A Website that is not yet in Existance.. but check back in a 1000 hours and I will bet My Morning Piss.. it will be Gone.. snapped up by some opportunist logo rapist who thinks it is the coolest name ever invented...

Just remember where you got it from... right now I feel like JIMI HENDRIX just before He touches the side of the Mountain.. Which Song?... Voodoo Chile...

RIP. and be borne again.. just like Jesus..

I'm trying to enjoy myself before I die.. by getting High.. Do you blame me?.. is it a crime to be a User.. Abuser.. we all are; to someone along the crazy paving path of a full life... everybody is bad, try and see a little good in someone.. Duh..

Sunday, 19 February 2017

Expand your communications..

Me not usually a link leech.. but if you want to open channels deeper than you think you already do.. just clock this.. (to Clock slang for 'take notice of this, it, that,')

go Here if you dare.. 
then if your still interested.. 

watch this