Dedicated to the Internet.

My behaviour offends my political acquaintance, you tie your noose tighter to the tune of my every sentence, no need for violence, I commit my vice in pitch black silence, but if you wanna step up like aerobics, make sure you bring your Zumbaa! sticks.

Start popping New York Dolls - Private World and The Weathermen - Dead Disnee.

VENTOLIN.

Wanna know why I haven't written any contrived, self loathing details about anything in a while?
It's because shit like that goes on probably every day in some countries.

Not just America.
And probably worse.

We were sickened by all these images of happy interrogators and female man haters but what got me the most is that behind closed doors, anything is possible.
Deals done, wars won.
All behind the iron curtains and glass ceilings,
they seal the deal over Campari and Vodka.

There was once a child so deprived he was sent to a place to live,
a dwelling, an abode, some digs he carried a shiv,
up all night and he'd sleep all day,
another naive victim to what they all say,
'cos the devil in a blue dress sometimes wears a red one,
and sometimes the beef you squashed, was never forgotten, son.

The forgotten son picked up his parcels and made for the door. There was only chance at redemption and the plot from Dogma suddenly made an appearance in his mindbox.
All lymphatic production was shutting down.
He needed that door to stay ajar, just to get the fuck out.

But he couldn't leave yet, the game needs him.
So just a few pointers here to leave you on.

PEOPLE, DYE YOUR HAIR, YOU MIGHT BECOME A DIFFERENT PERSON.

PEOPLE, DIE. YOU ARE NOT PEOPLE.

PERSECUTION IS THE TOOL OF THE OPPRESSOR, TO CAST A STONE MEANS MORE THAN JUST THROWING A BRICK AT A PADDY WAGON. RESISTANCE MIGHT BE FUTILE BUT IT'S ALL WE HAVE LEFT.

FREE MUMIA, EVEN THOUGH HE ADMITTED TO DOING IT.
HE'S DONE ENOUGH.

BUY SUNKIST.

AND CONSTABLE MONARCH IS OVER AND OUT.

Eshaylayde part ii

The things you take as reality are just lost causes of cancer for medicinal marijuana. Grow up or act your shoe size, it's just the same seats in the back of a rage cage.



































Nothings really different, 'cos all governments the same.

Eshaylayde.

Spent my university break forgetting a week.
I was in South Australia sorting things out.

Mischief was achieved.

I timetravelled.

2 hours forward,

then an extra hour for Daylight Savings.

Then came back 3 hours. After partaking in the morning Big Day's Out ritual I found invisible student houses, bags of soap, the back of a Paddy Van, Waygu Beef Sausages, Presshafruit bewgs, grifters and invincible train yards.

Add that to my behaviour, photos and stories will be uploaded when I can be fucked.

I incriminate myself with a self destructive fate, the silent echos of my mind only take time to unravel.

Things I Hate In Two Thousand And Ate by Jimmy Hats is now available.

Please contact me by email for details, if there is enough hype I might have a launch party in my backyard. So get hyping. I need a bewg.

20 pages of mind fudging acidic brain melt sludge that will have stainer ink dripping through the pores of your porous empty pockets.

If you miss out on this limited edition signed run then you are a fuckwit scenster pig fuck who sits in the rain and crywanks over pictures of Phar Lap. I think the girl watching me type this is attractive but kazam in about 15 minutes she bailed on me. I thought we really had something.

Jimmy Hats Esquire,

until I get my shit together,

signing off.

I'm slipping again. I can taste that bitter feeling of resentment. I need to go to the pub.