atin lay ig pay uck fay

I BET YOU THOUGHT I WAS DEAD

2011-02-18T07:52:00.000-08:00

BUT I'M NOT
I WROTE A REALLY LONG ANGRY FOR THE SAKE OF ANGRY POST
BUT I DELETED IT
YOU WANNA KNOW WHY
WELL FIGURE IT OUT AND TELL ME YO
JB OUT.

HAVENT EVEN HAD A COMPUTER HEY

2011-01-08T06:40:00.000-08:00

FACE IT
FACEBOOK FAKE KIDS
SPREADING SYPHILLLIS
SOCIAL NETWORKING SATAN SPAWN
SO APATHETIC WHEN YOU POST ALL FORLORN
NOT JUST A CURE BUT A REASON YOU FAIL
SO PULL BACK A MAST
AND LET THE TRUEMAN CAST SET SAIL
EVEN REX HUNT THREW THEM BACK MUDDALOVERS.

ON TOUR PART FIVE STILL ALIVE

2010-12-23T21:07:00.001-08:00

ON TOUR WAR FOUR FOR SURE

2010-12-23T20:47:00.000-08:00

"We do what we want, you do what you can."

ON TOUR PART THREE

2010-12-23T20:38:00.001-08:00

I just told every cunt I was in a band. It's the same fucking thing.

ON TOUR PART TWO

2010-12-23T20:29:00.001-08:00

"You're gonna get everything you wanted, and noones gonna stop you from taking it"

ON TOUR PART ONE

2010-12-23T20:21:00.001-08:00

I'm a fucking wanderer.
The Big Dirty Lucky Cashie Spendie Money Tour 2010. I finally smashed my iPhone.

On the 79 to Richmond.

2010-12-16T00:10:00.001-08:00

Your crew all fools, no chancers, second rate interest, you look like your family practices incest, so as the beat slows and the music collides, remember to reconcile, an inch or a mile, the style? Wild.
I cross state borders racking and hording from Borders, so don't look me in the eye when it's obvious you cut corners.
Go cut your wrist or something, do us a favour, about to smoke some Hellburn kush, how's that for a fresh flavour?
But all things aside I came to bring the walking dead alive, all the while pepetuating mass genocide with cyanide laced verses and voodoo laced curses. You can't hurt this, or my squad, cos when we kick down ya door, poles and truncheons leave you more than sore.

"C4 TO YA DOOR NO BEEF NO MORE."
.

On the 78 to High St.

2010-12-15T19:43:00.000-08:00

The clinic is where I'm headed, this is it, the sedatives got me deaded, leaving critics critcally molested by the double breasted, balling? I own the rights to the broadcast, and all I see is you sinking, flag at half mast. I'll send in a girl to milk ya pole correct, all the while she's giving me half ya dole cheque! So how you feel 'bout that, girls play guys, but I fire straight back.

Polo Sport.

2010-12-14T07:15:00.000-08:00

And there's gotta be an easier way to stop the pain
When the red worm spits sadistic rain into a cold vein
Decipher this, get dissected
Like a medical cadaver, you'se just practice.
Fact is,
You speak with no thought, pretext or clarity,
So harden the fuck up, all the girls wanna marry me?
I'm a misogynistic bastard with a heart of gold,
Associating with kids who kick doors and girls who dance with poles,
But the irrelevant shit you bit from me is always given back, you twice as wack as when you first picked up a Flat Black, didn't even know how to rock a stock cap, fancy that, little chap, wanna rap battle? Pick a word and I be burning you herbs like a stoner resorting to a candle, the style you can't handle,
It's like a broken suitcase, your one strap short of a sandal. And I be fucking bored of all this fancy shit, gimme a few cones, a feed and a fuck, all my dead mates back and when I gamble, better luck.

It's been a year and you're still rocking. Love you Kristian.

BULLET AND A BRACELET.

2010-12-10T16:22:00.001-08:00

If I lost some heavy weight, I'd be sad, you'd be glad, they said Punk was just a fad, but that crank you spin got you flipping mad. And I ain't talking about that fixed gear shit, it's that put this in ya pipe and smoke that shit.
I be ready to squirt up the skirt, the only thing you got pulled was ya chain, face down in the dirt.

I need to find a peep show.

YOU SIT DOWN TO PISS

2010-12-03T07:34:00.000-08:00

I won't remember, but you'll never forget THIS.
You big dirty greasy fucky outgunned toys, wake up.
AIN'T SHOOK.
HKSA TAKING OVER.

You should of shot me when you had the chance.

HKSA DAY ONE

2010-12-01T05:31:00.001-08:00

METE DZE SKORCH DONE SWOB DIPSA THORT
YOU ALREADY KNEW
ESTABLISHED CHAPTERS, IM SIR, YOU PAGE, LIKE BOOKS IN THE PRE PRINTING STAGE.
UNDRESS IT, GET TESTED DEPRESSED KIDS GET DEADED WHEN DREADLOCKS ARE THREADED SO DONT GET ATTACHED THERES TOO MANY ISSUES AT STAKE WHO IS GONNA CRY AND WHOSE GONNA BANG AT YA WAKE?
HANDING YOURSELF IN IS LIKE GETTING ARRESTED TWICE
YOU KNOW WHATS COMING.
EVEN IF I GET REMANDED IN CUSTODY, ESHLAYDE IS GETTING FUCKED AND ALREADY IS. AIN'T SHOOK. NEVER WILL BE. YOU SCARED TO BOMB YOUR POSTAL, WE'VE SHAKEN MORE IMPORTANT HANDS, INTERNATIONAL AND COAST TO COSTAL.
Don't know when I can be able to post next so here's some guy in a Hell Kimono looking relaxed waiting for HONEY KHICKEN.
WE ON THAT STANDARD ISSUE KIMONO SON STRIPES ALREADY EARNT WE GOT OUR CLICK TIGHTER THAN ME ON A DATE
BITCH WE GOING FOR A WALK
FUCK BITCHES GET MONEY
OH I LOVE THIS TOWN FOR THE APPROACHABLE FEMALE ROBOT SUBIACO GIRLS. IT'S LIKE, CALL OF DUTY ZOMBIES LAD.

TOYS BEST PREPARE HERE COMES THE PAIN

HOME OF THE HCP

KOBANE DELVES PIER SNOBE SKALE BYLE EKLS HCP

Spice from Sydney, Endo from Perth, Barney from Perth, Link from Perth, Pzor from Melbourne, Gosep from Perth, Torcha and Baizer from P Town and five urr it to whoever can post who that tag above the Link bottom right sticker says.
Five lad.

YOUSE TOYS 'N LAMES,
BROTHER OF JESUS WITH A LARGE INHEIRITANCE, SO .22, BWAP, SMOKE MARY. I SQUIRT DAMES, PAINT TRAINS AND STILL HAVE TIME TO PLAY COMPUTER GAMES.
Fuck this, I got a red velvet sheet,
LARGE.
Talk to you suckers when the city gets swapped.
YOUR TEAM WEAK, LET ME SPEAK.

FUCK YA DEMANDS

2010-11-28T03:27:00.001-08:00

I FUCKING STONE WOMEN LIKE THE TALIBAN
WHO GIVES A RATS VAGINA WHAT YOUR CUNT OF A BRAIN THINKS
IT'S THE RATS IN YOUR VAGINA THAT MAKE YOUR FUCKING CUNT STINK
BODE CHARACTER, STILL LAUGHING AT YA,
FAKE FOES TRED ONYA TOE AND STILL YOU STAND THERE LIKE A BITCH, DONT YA KNOW?
FUCKING HELLS KIDDZ, STREET FAMOUS, YOU KNOW THE NAMES OF US MATE, JUST ASK OUR FAVOURITE DUTY LAWYERS AND MAGISTRATES.
BEEN ON SOMETHING NASTY OR SICKENING NARCOTICS EVER SINCE TORCH SHOWED ME THE LIGHT, I DROP PHONICS, IN STEREOSONIC, YOU BACKPACKER, WHILE I STATE MY HATE FOR POLICE STATIONS, YOU JUST A FASHION STATEMENT TALKING TO THE POLICE MAKING ACCUSATIONS.

This is where I buried a cat. It got hit by a car really badly. I thought I'd have to hit it in the head with the shovel, but it had bled out. I don't think the sound of bones breaking, regardless of what species it is, is the most arousing sound. The cat belonged to my neighbours in the Homeswest commisions. I had already gone about five foot deep when a guy comes up, hat nearly falling off his head, that it was his aunty's cat, and she'd want to bury it herself. So I left him with it next to the grave I had dug.
As I walked away with my bloody shovel all I could think about was how I'd started a Pet Semetary.

Three days later I found another cat, about seven blocks away, laying exactly the same, with a trickle of blood running out of it's mouth.
I had taken a photo but I ended up deleting it.

Speaking of death, it doesn't stop.
Rest in Peace Rzolt. I wish you weren't so smashed when you got off the train at Perth Station the other week, I could of said goodbye.

YOUR LEFT, LEFT, LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT.

2010-11-27T06:59:00.001-08:00

Late night, kicking back by myself, if you want beef I offer up the dopest cuts, like I was selling stomped on packets out the back of my truck, so shut the fuck up, get in line, hate away cos tommorow becomes yesterday, nothing more to say, nothing more to do, trust no bitch and fear no crew, stuck in a rut, sick like a dog, and I ain't no problem pretending crime is a job.

My DJ is in Canada carving powder, damn, and I ain't talking about just snowboarding man. I put this out for my city, I come harder then I go, I do this for the love, you do it for show. Show respect where due, fuck you. Shapeshifters got me lifted like an elevator, catch me pissing on your Lacoste alligator, like they say, worse to blow up early than later.

So I kick it blind in my Dior robe, no need to get baptised, I'm already stoned, just like Sunday dinner I'm roasting when it comes to beef, leading lambs into wolves teeth, I wield a weapon with a rubber handle, and best bet they ain't fucking stilletto sandals, it's that time of year again, it turned the crew from boys to men.

We might be reckless, I'll rather pick a brick up rather than ya dress, dresses can't smash shop fronts, but the cunt beneath can open doors without stunts.

My confidence high, tolerance low.

2 CENT COIN

2010-11-27T06:37:00.000-08:00

If there is only Four Horsemen, then why do you follow the Norsemen?

STOP.

2010-11-24T08:24:00.000-08:00

Another retirement home sent back from the brink,
another night with my head in the fucking sink,
I wish I could kick the curse but maybe i'm just blessed,
the test, pfft, i passed it when i couldn't be fucked getting dressed,
I'd sit in the dark with a bong and a pen,
wank in my own filth and laugh at Two and Half Men,
the days of my life pass in the blink of an eye,
but I sit with a longneck cursing my pigsty,
a man's home is castle, this much is true,
but what's a guy to do when the stains stay black and your mates stay blue.

I don't double check what I write,
I leave the drips for you toys to decipher right,
so turn right,
you left her with a pair of ripped tights.

PREACH TO THE CHOIR

2010-11-23T22:55:00.001-08:00

"Who win the lottery and who meet death?"
Buket TKO.

With all due respect, you ain't an architect, you misdiagnosed, I must correct, you drink tap water in designer bottles devil, I design slaughter for your declining respect level. There ain't no I in team but there's definately a MEAT, and where there's meat, you know there's beef, and where's there's beef there's beef getting meted out, with the money machine yardimean.

You'll all be kissing their feet tommorow,
Fake mother lovers.
Mother motherfucking lovers.

"You want some beef?
(Toomer hits a gronk twice to the nose)
Anyone else?
Next time mind your own fucking business.
I love when people interfere in other peoples business.
Is that ya sister, ya brother, ya cousin, your roommate?
Then why don't you just shut, the, fuck, up."

Toomer TKO.

YOU DIDNT RAISE ME YOU CRAZY

2010-11-21T22:48:00.000-08:00

LOOK AT ME NOW.

REMEMBER WHEN I WAS JUST A LONER
HANGING ON THE CORNER
LOOK AT ME NOW STEADY STACKING CHIPS
NEVER THOUGHT ID LIVE TO SEE THIS SHIT.

I deal with the stress of these streets, and see what I see, I do what you wish you could, but don't, so don't be suprised when the razors at your throat.

Now what I do doesn't seem right at all.

2010-11-08T12:22:00.001-08:00

An everyday thing. When you pop, you best pop.
Get down on this like Limbo.
FREE SENZA FREE DOWN FREE SHUFLE.
Fuck this blog.
LOOK OUTSIDE. THERE'S A REALITY TV SHOW GOING ON, QUICK, PHOTOBOMB IT.
Pfft.

YOU EVER HAVE SEX WITH A PHAROAH?

2010-11-06T15:21:00.001-07:00

YOU ALL ARE FUCKING PRETENTIOUS FAKE FUCKS WITH NO GUTS/
WHILE YOU WERE ON THE NET GETTING YA GEEK ON/ I WAS ON THE STREET/
GETTING MY FREAK ON

THE LOSER SUCKS THREE DICKS THE WINNER SUCKS FOUR

2010-10-27T03:58:00.001-07:00

Get the fuck off yr face and off yr arse and get amongst it.

DIE HARD WITH A VEGANANCE

2010-10-23T03:57:00.000-07:00

WHAT DO YOU KETAMEAN

2010-10-20T08:13:00.000-07:00

WHICH IS THE RAINFOREST
IT ISNT THE BIG CONSCIENCE WE PROVOKE INDEED
YET ANOTHER ROAD TRIP ON THE BRINK OF MENTALITY
REALITY
YOU'RE ABOUT TO CREDIT ME WITH EVERYTHING YOU DID
YES GRACEY, IT'S A DOUBLE CHEESEBURGER.
CHEESEBURGERS ARE LIKE FEMALE ORGASMS.
ASHTRAY PAYDAY BUMPER RUN WEDNESDAY
NO MONEY FOR SMOKES BUT MONEY FOR KETAMINE
AINT NEEDED FOR CEMENTING A CONCEPTUAL SCENE
DEFEAT THE FEEN
THE BURNING OF THE MASSES AS THEY PARTAKE IN THE SAME CHEMICAL BURN I PUT UP MY NOSE.
STUPID MONKEYS WILL ALWAYS PAY YOU BACK, UNLESS YOU TAKE SEPTUM STRUGGLE, OR CHOOSE TO INJECT ON THE TRACKS.
ZEK HAS A HABIT AFTER HE HAS BILLS, HE RUBS HIS LEGS.
AS IF YOU ARE SALIENT, WAYNES WORLD ENDS, IT ALL DEPENDS ON THE SIZE OF HER HEADS.
MAKE ME AN ALCOHOLIC DRINK.
RIDE YOUR HOUSE, HOME AND HEROIN INTO THE NEXT TOWN, NEXT TIME BRING A PACKET OF BISCUITS. SHOOT TO KILL, AIM TO THRILL, THE SIGHTS I'VE SEEN WILL MAKE US ETERNAL,
SPEAK YOUR MILEY CYRUS VIRUS WHILE I WATCH LINDSAY LOHAN DO A STRIPTEASE.
LIKE CLACK.
CLICK.
YOU TOYS WILL CATCH A FAIR ONE, AN INSANE SICKO AFTER THE ONE YOU SON.

BEEF WITH ME AND THEN TURN VEGAN.
FLICKS WHEN I CAN BE FUCKED.

ONE/

"WE'LL BRING GUNS WHEN THEY BRING KNIVES, THEY'LL MAKE US STRUGGLE TO SURVIVE, SO THERE'S NOT MUCH WE CAN DO WITH OUR LIVES, BUT JUST WAIT 'TIL TWENTY TWELVE, THE YOUTH ARE GONNA RISE"
AMZEK

ONE SIZE FITS ALL

2010-10-18T04:26:00.001-07:00

I need to cap that with a full colour of full cans not just scraps, that wall deserves more. HIGH DANNII!!

Congratulations, You're pregnant.

2010-10-15T02:54:00.000-07:00

Like I give a fuck. See nang, huff mang, you ain't from the same fam, I'll sell you a stomped gram, nuts since they made crunchy cereal, and if you get a heater off of me it's gonna be missing the serial. I ain't going nowhere, so keep ya toasters tucked tight, pawn takes rook when you hear a bump in the night. So say it takes two, one plus one equals a window, into your soul, sneaker sole seizures, if the shoe fits, blade to your features, wanna impress me, bring your whole posse, line em up, then sit em down quietly, cos BANG YOU'RE DEAD, the self destructive society react violently, and I don't care about my reputation, drag it through the mud, cos' I burn you all day, everything you heard is TRUE BLUD.

HKSF UTBP XD BAS
SCARY FREAKS AND STAUNCH GEEKS LURKING THESE STREETS WITH TRICKS NOT TREATS.

It's called Wednesday. Where you going? To get your stupid pills.

PANORAMA

2010-10-14T02:36:00.001-07:00

I'm
Not
Nic
Cage.

KEEP REAL HOMIES FOR LIFE.

EVERYTIME IM IN THE CITY I KEEP A DUTCH WITH ME

2010-10-07T06:35:00.001-07:00

EVERYONE IS GIVEN A THIRD EYE AT BIRTH
GIVE ME YOUR MONEY
FUCK YOU ARE A SELFISH CUNT
NO SMACK TALK
FOR THAT BITCHES SAKE I HOPE YOUR PARROT OF A PROTEGE STEPS THE CORRECT WAY.

"ITS OK I MAKE 'EM LOOK THE OTHER WAY
I ALMOST CAUGHT A CASE ABOUT THAT THE OTHER DAY"

Frankenberry junkie for the mop, back when I was a pincushion for the peon trade, she was a flower, a vagina on display. Fronting on a king, I flipped it once, that drug haze got toned down, that white girl ain't a white girl. So get back on it, stop trying to fund your phony photographic prescriptions. You were born premie, I'm too high, you can't see me.

Word placement.

I got a right hook for you to feel,
It ain't a big deal,
I wasn't born with a heart,
So apart from your girlfriend, what else to steal?

NOTHING

2010-10-06T09:06:00.001-07:00

I've got heaps of flicks but I can't be fucked uploading them. I feel possessed by the points of possession, a transgression from depression, the spark that flint that starts the new session. Bacteria poisoning, you are your new car smell, depths of heaven to the heights of hell, it will cure ailments from AIDS to that morning breath smell, try poking a dot and end up with ya dick lopped off, suck an egg or die laying it.

SMACKING ROOKIES

2010-10-04T20:17:00.001-07:00

Some say it was the eyes, some said it was the accent,
Alotta' guys wonder were there wallets went.

Don't call her wifey if you met her at a freak show.

DOWNTOWN SATISFACTION

2010-10-02T22:58:00.000-07:00

So last night Billie Jean, D Banga and I hit up An Intimate night with Petula Clarke. Thanks for the tickets Vinka and Billie, the seats were INSANE.

The lighting was fucked for an iPhone camera. I kept making Billie wolf whistle, cos I can't wolf whistle. Fucking roll my R's either.
After an AMAZING show, with great old mate old boys and ladies spinning yarns in intermission, I saw a sign. Well, I didn't see it until I had waited for an usher to look the other way and had jumped on stage.

I took this after I nearly got sprung for being backstage because the sound dude knew I was on the lurrrk. Just fed him a Big Mac of bullcrap and jetted up stairs, BJ and DBanga in tow.
Wrong way.
Then we found a way into a meet and greet.
We were quickly sheparded out with the rest of the punters trying to get a signature. But it's me man.
I spun some wool and 15 minutes later, Feen, Dan and I were backstage.
The VIP meet and greet.
No sandwiches though, or rider either. Disappointed P'toolz.

I was wearing shorts and a hoody. I felt, different.

You know he would of fed the ducks over her when he was young. Jesus Christ. Look at him.

I even got a one question interview with her about the REAL meaning of Downtown. ONLY THING IS THAT FUCKING IPHONE NOTE DICTAPHONE DIDNT WORK AND HER NAZI MANAGER WAS A DOG.
I did dictate it to Dan when we went got zooted afterwards, so i'm sure it was feasible.

Feen copped a 20 dollar program.

I just got this signed. Fuck your whole crew homie, I'm more hated, even my mums uterus wanted to disown me.

Was a good night.

REAL SHIT FOR YA DOME PIECE COLOURING IN BOOK FUCKERS

2010-10-01T19:41:00.000-07:00

Nah I honestly love you Tony. Like, reacharound kinda love. Yeah baby. Hold me closer Tony Danza.
WHO WANTS TO HAVE INTERCOURSE
VERBAL FIRST
HETERO HERO
ON WITH THE INANE SHOW
DOWN WITH THE LINGO YET
IM THAT DOWNRIGHT DIRTY DINGO TRYING TO STEAL YA CIGARETTES

If you can't read it, you ain't a writer. Answers will be taken.

iPhone photo of some shit where the old fit exchange was. RIP. Long live the Labor Party.
Machete.

Not the best flick. So don't steal it dickheads. Go down and get me an SLR shot. That whole production is blown up, talk about Short Fuzes. Didn't get a flick of the Asio.

Work in progress.

Laxatives lack effect.

2010-09-30T07:21:00.001-07:00

I want to disembowel myself. Spell check nation, cross bred hate we get fed to perpertrate, stand firm or stand corrected, every time you fed me a line, hook, it sunk, stunk and got disinfected, it ain't sicker than me, more fluent, congruent, and as angry as me, I could set myself free and let myself go, like I was the warden locking myself up for show, so all you donkey looking ponies need to neck the fuck up, cos it's tough on these streets and mate, you dead wrong 'bout luck.
Cos if it's your lucky day punk, you'll be walking away with ya wallet, but not after ya girlfriends guzzed it down like an alcoholic, frolic, piss in the breeze, wave ya dick around so it hits both knees, and please, can I get an encore already, your shit, it stinks, the smell lingers, we be Freddy Kruger, while you be Freddy getting Fingered.

For you, and you.

2010-09-27T04:23:00.001-07:00

I would of stuck my neck out on the block.
I went and ran around and around the block.
I hoped you would give a fuck,
But you just stared.
Your eyes they never close,

Your life changed mine, but my life changed yours.
I would of let you chain me down, but all I would of told you was to let me go.
I've been places you never would want to see, but I showed you places I'd never be.
You made me, and you, made me crazy.

Neglect?

2010-09-26T02:39:00.000-07:00

What a concept. The indirect, yet subjective behaviour when exposed to a mass mentality, that transcends all class and caste. If one person stood atop the Stirling Ranges and cried "SHOUT ME A SESH" and noone was there to here him, would C.Y O'Connor be alive today? Probably not, due to tuberclulosis or some such palsy which befell his generation.

I warned you cunts about this YEARS AGO.

We bomb with a Short Fuze.

The Mega Mac with four McChicken patties instead. Filling.

That guys back.

I want an iPad.

Mete; verb. To dole out punishment.

When I rip scripts it's a job like the pharmacist, and I dispense nothing but name brand dope, so jog on ya fucking joke, ya big girls blouses, you ain't fucking nothing like you supa glued ya trousers.

I won't remember this week so do it for me.
You better take my picture.
Yours,
Jimmy Juilo Hatzis.

THEY STILL HAVENT GOT ME

2010-09-22T12:14:00.001-07:00

Life the blur everyone knows song 2
How many spellings of too can you do?
Diabetic flow, insulin dependant,
I got a goldmine in my head,
So fuck your gold plated pendant.

The Chauffer

2010-08-19T02:51:00.000-07:00

What do you see?

2010-08-18T11:22:00.000-07:00

How is your depression related to the above?
The new New York City.
Real representation retaliation regards roaring over ramjets,
I'd stick my self to prove a point to these toy pets.
Wanna act like that your strip, you can't control a playstation, let alone a patch, we bare pimp, air blimp, sipping on something pink, purple, end up walking round the hood like Urkel.
You pay the price for the perks through personality perverts pissing on your stupidly stunning sensuality.
Can you imagine a beautiful day?
I can't. I got a problem with the smell of burning oil and urban decay, fuck Louie V, rather rep Perth City, nothing left to believe, the degrees earnt point to perfection and precise splices of spicy chicken. Deep fried like a crackhead on a bender, who got the juice, who needs the boost? This shit doesn't sell itself. You boring fucks need something to idolize. Something to autocorrect. Something to hate, something to believe in, an idealogly seperate from the seven sins or the Muslims. Selling dreams under the bridge near Meltham station, when I ride Transperth I make sure I tag on.
Spooky motherfuckers hide a ringtone in your beat, flip the flunkie to a junkie to get milked like a cow now, I smear blood above your eyebrow. If this is this, and this is the place, the bitch, I smeared her face with piss. So now I'm gonna spit in it.
Demeaning feening, never cleaning and always on that greener mean without the median, middle of the food chain, lean toward carnivorous, catch me devouring the vegan. Fuck your big man laughter, we'll
see who's laughing when I'm sticking ya mothers daughter. Cos I taught ya. So shit ya pants and do what ya 'oughta.

MOTHERFUCKERS
EAT
THIS
EYESORE.

REAL TALKING

2010-08-09T04:52:00.000-07:00

Spiritually, I conquer verbally, ya hearda me, not ya average, love colcanon cos I love chewing threw bacon and cabbage, and noone cares about your words, you out of order, like the broken turnstile you dropped a handstyle on, CCTV recording ya.

You can't come up dissing us down, that's like Michael Jackson doing a set at my 13 year old daughters party dressed as a clown.
Ya see fake, I ain't coming through with no weakness, you see the crew and I roll by, you run and youse weepses. Close your eyes but open your peepers, I got a penknife pointed at your weakness. So sleepless, every night I lay awake in bed, dreaming dreams about something that someone else said, so I wink with all eyes open, always above with a select few chosen, none of your talk for now, I've chewed too many Endone's, it's giving me itchy bones, and all I wanna do us stay at home alone, with benzos and cones.

The Good News.

2010-07-31T07:36:00.001-07:00

What a last few weeks months whatever.
I've had toys, chompers, gotten done and done stompers.
Back to the grind, in all ways, shapes and forms,
Invading the girls dorms through laptop storms.
Dear John,
Do not ever, come home.

Fucking, what a life.
Life is like a box of chocolates. If you get too hot you meltdown, into a weird marbled chocolate lump of rehardened cocoa and milk.

These cats creep around like they got the crown, forlorn when feens feign the reign,
At least make it legal to marry your cousins.
COS IT 'APPENS ANYWAY ESHAY.

And that's the good news.

Four Minutes.

2010-07-29T09:39:00.001-07:00

Dingbats be on some fairy tale dream shit,
It's all good mate, you've been greenlit.
It's all crocodile smiles and metaphor denials from masters of manipulation. Vocabulary based self worth justifiers of self taught paced liars.

A soul ain't a soul without one.
The decible level hit homebaked homebase, the crowd watched as the only runner came second place.
Your shit seems so forced, so unviable,
There might be a market, but you selling out,
It's undeniable.
Presenting free proof to all troops regardless of caste, colour, crew or creed,
So brace yourself in for your fifteen seconds,
Ride dick, ride fixies, ride coat tails,
Ya reckon?

I GOT A HATER

2010-07-27T03:52:00.001-07:00

You like a butterfingered second hand shop employee, dropping the donations like names, your play for fame,
Lame.
All the hard knocks you say you got, I have to reiterate son, you just losing the plot, to a reality TV show you ain't even on, so what the fucks going on?
Your paranoia made your brain go walkabout,
Real talk, real strong, raised on Brussel Sprouts,
So be like the ninties band and have No Doubt,
When I swag through town it's plain to see clout,
So you shoulda thought about that before you opened ya mouth, I don't care what you are, who your friends know or who's ya familia,
I got a crate full of hate and a freestyle abilty that will kill ya.
I make claims like insurance but it wasn't a spinal injury so I can back them up, so neck up parrot,
You like Rabbit,
I'm like snatch it and grab it then dack it.
No competition,
No definition, go back to the kitchen.

Smoke more herbs, and when I say herb I mean it like a diss, like the fakery and trickery you tend to see, the forged mirroredl mask of true identity, I got crew who make beats, I got crew who make beatings, let me know next time you want beef, I'll buy them front row seating, cos I ball while you fall, you fell from Grace now you fallen flat, and you coming at me with some I take more drugs than you crap?

You ain't enlightened, you just frightened, while I be balling like a drop punt, I'll even pay to fly Billie Jean back from Melbourne just to watch her stomp your cunt.
So what gives?
I can be rude like that and give you plenty of ammo to fire back,
I shouldn't even retaliate, your shit was keyboard warrior wack, played out like an OG NES controller, So I got a Duck Hunt gun ready to make your pixels fold over.

"Insults are the best compliments."
AND ITS NOT AS IF I GIVE TWO FIFTHS OF A WHOLE FUCK, try ya luck, I engage the viewer of the page, you just rage and pine for centre stage.

I said I wouldn't but I did.
Let's see how far this goes.
Hopefully to Hell and back.
Then there might be a bit of an understanding.

Trinity Old Kunts Association 04.

Love Me Sexy by Jackie Moon.

2010-07-26T04:58:00.001-07:00

My wrist no watch, just a reminder,
Drugs aren't the answer but they make people seem kinder,
If you got something to say lad, say it to my frilly lace,
And if you don't comprehend my slang then you won't be keeping up the pace,
Like the kid from the Smoking ads, you be outside of the party, try step inside, get a sideswipe from Marty,
Cos he's just one of the members of the cult and boy, we got plenty more, established from Perth, migrated to Adelaide, Melbourne, London and Singapore.
I know a guy who knows a guy who can get me something on the cheap,
Can't blame a guy for just trying to eat,
Feed whatever habit you got, like stuffed nuns and potatoes, migrate upwards like scrolling back in Halo.

My Eyes Bleed.

2010-07-22T08:58:00.000-07:00

Diabetic kids stare out windows of grey death, atop skylines of haze created by plastic silverware using cigarette smokers.
Eyes need drops, names don't. I never wanna be like you. I never fake the funk, I just prefer the junk.
I'm not as ill as a cancerous cyst but you still get the jist, decipher the wordplay, end up with a cryptic crossword clenched fist.
We can drop the car at the airport after we've done over the servo, no disguise, and be on a plane overseas sipping Jose Cuevo before they realise, what a trip, let me express my shit a little bit.
So you roll with phony friends turned feens, so what, I'll drop a globe on the carpet and watch 'em scarper, you lost the plot.
Cos when you hooked on the crystal, you done for,
You'll end up 50, buying a bead shop, on the foreshore.

Typical.

2010-07-20T07:16:00.001-07:00

Cooperate or diet. We will surrender all foreign plant material to the airport bins, and the virus capsule you just got off gave everyone the next Swine Flu. The sheep farmer needs a wife, and not to massacre INXS.
Wanna choke while we fuck?
Why not try your luck?
The celebrity culture you revel in,
The slit you poke the devil in,
Touched by an angel or touched by a priest,
What are YOU thinking, is it beyond belief?
Beyond deceit with no receipt, talk turkey like Sarah Palin, ain't no choice bit repeat cadence no failing, blur my face and recognize me even after, this ain't The Warriors, your crew cause laughter.
I run the block, you laughing stock, you gamble away your profit, I'm taking it straight out your pocket.
You give head to the head of state, I stand in the Oval Office and masturbate, have another vodka comrade, you won't feel a thing, except when I run up on you and you feel a sting, sing, sing the fuck along, because at the end of the day it's just another hit from the bong.

TV Dinner Sinner.

2010-07-19T08:31:00.001-07:00

Transformer tenure on the tedium of the medium,
Unscrupulous foals ridden by unfocused jockeys,
Ivan Milat and the end game of Ice Hockey,
None of the Bullwinkle, stop giving it the big un',
Cos' even after I've unleashed the beast it ain't begun,
Started? I ain't never finished, you, the quality has diminished. Consult your therapist if you need a helping hand,
The ends to a mean means I'm ending you out,
Pimping, your shout, balls out so bitch pout.
Got an aerial shit shooter pulling clay pigeons,
Shooting NERF guns at your incredibly bad decisions,
It's a horrible idea, bitch you leave me nausous,
Fuck your life, mine's a movie, debaucherous.

COS LIKE BUFFY I SLAY YA, FAILURE

2010-07-17T08:55:00.000-07:00

You might think you floss, that you paid a cost to be the boss,
But all your mouth play ain't meaning shit,
When every word you spray is bit.

I roll up on you, no plates, masked face,
Outsmarted on the street, bwap BWAP, no amount of faith,
Cos the only thing you run is the human race,
Into the ground, to the scene, YOU DISGRACE.

Your wack throwback shit died for a reason, look,
Get a handstyle, not a graffiti colouring in book.
Botched up Botox bitches hang on my every word,
Like my dictation of the dictionary became a dirty deity and the bi-dykey dimes keep on chasing me.

An accident is hate, and hate is divided evil,
Thus emotions are a minus,
Plus, you will never be considered equal.

Hold your breathe for the sequel.

My Patch.

2010-07-15T23:46:00.001-07:00

Like a smoking jacket, I got some patches,
Some I farm, some are protected with hatchets.
Ego self love mutilated razor masturbation,
Cos the last identification I recieved from the boys at Flinders Station, it's obvious to the culture you are the laughing stock of the nation.
Cause for elation, a cause for effect, affected by the titanic ritual, I rocked hand me downs that didn't fit me well.
Straight From Hells Kitchen,
Unstoppable Posse.

Execute.

2010-07-15T23:45:00.001-07:00

Up in the lab, no need for pre fab.
Swallow the truth and a handful of Xanax.
You know what time it is.
Welcome to the shrine, the delete button.
The drop, wait for it, it's coming soon, to a theatre near you.
Breed all over my sheets, sex is just for bleeding.
Let me tie your conciousness down to the bed with cable ties I bought from Cable Ski.

In the shade, the knight looked like it had been through a gay pride parade.
Go kill yourself already.

I'M OUT AND I'M GONE.

Toys built the Pyramids.

2010-07-09T12:03:00.001-07:00

Next time get it right, put the http at the front,
Thanks for the free promo.

The surviving text is jibberish.

2010-07-08T09:30:00.000-07:00

Blood sucking vampire needle carrying night crawlers,
Sprawled on city streets drinking longies zombie speaking fight talkers. Rats, learn. You ain't on my level, escalate while you regulate, I machine and devestate while you make statements, your gen are snitches, your whole crew front but deep down bitches, you make me nauseous and your cell mate pitches,
I'm digging dirt while your pissing Gatorade, I made no time for your lines cos people get sick of your old times.
You scene hoppers, go shopping get yourself a gun,
Cos rap in the trap, cunt, it's back to 1991.

Spin wheels and photocopy my style, shit be obvious,
And all I do is hit keys when I'm high as helicopters,
A gift east you see, the evolutionary key,
But if you keep fucking with me, I got you penned as incorrect, mentally.

By the way, it's a present for a friend of mine,
More boat people, more police funerals.

NO TITLE.

2010-07-07T09:59:00.000-07:00

Defecate on the midget, look what you've gone and done now. The favourite weapon was wordplay and the scythe you brought can't bring pain, stop trying to claim fame, we operate on different planes, different tanks and different cranes,
Because after today,
The Internet is never the same.

The DVD plays in the background.
Dear Diary.
Voyueristic, let's make this simplistic, I love candy, I eat it with a dipstick.
No heater, no job, no reason, pure slob.
Fantastic like cup noodles, so put the kettle on love,
I saw what you did and I'm still one step above.
Nine years with a cat of nine tails, epic wins and epic fails.

EMPHASIS ON THE E
NO PITY
NO LUCK
JUST ANOTHER CREW OF TEENAGE EGOS
TALKIN' THAT SHIT, LIKE WHO CARES, WE KNOW,
COMPARED TO NAPOLEON AND CONFUCIOUS SON,
I KILLED THE INTERNET AND BROUGHT IT BACK JUST TO SEE WHAT I'D BECOME, MY NAME MEANS BROTHER OF JESUS, GOD'S SON.

I AM GUILTY OF NOTHING SARGE.

Some Bitches are Feens.

2010-06-29T08:56:00.000-07:00

Fuck explaining this beautiful vulgarity.
Very powerful viewing, EVEN WITH A DECK OF FIFTY ONE.
Go on, orgasm.

Now, I haven't written anything in a while because, well, fuck, maybe I can't be fucked.
You and the computer you logged in on can fuck off back where you came from.
What the fuck you think?
I got a roach motel in my ashtray and I'm now a responsible adult.
Well, a couple of years late never hurt anyone, except maybe in World War II.

Pagan Fagin's are leading the kids joined at the hip to become vegan heathens. I keep my feelings bottled up, just to ejaculate onto your mirror.
DO YOU FIND YOURSELF IN THE TEXT, DO YOU RESENT THE HEX PLACED UPON YOU WHEN YOU WERE DRUNK?
IS IT NECESSARY FOR SOMETHING TO OF HAPPENED ON A TV SHOW OR A MOVIE OR IN A BOOK FOR IT TO BE REFLECTED IN YOUR OWN CONSCIOUS LIFE OR CAN YOU JUST EXPERIENCE YOUR LIFE AND THEN DENOTE IT LATER?
Slamdance to it.
DO YOU CHOOSE TO FOLLOW YOUR OWN FACIAL EXPRESSIONS TO THE ARROW POINT OF THE STORY?
ZOOT IN YOUR SPACESUIT, DUSTED ON PLANET CUSTARD.
He didn't even know who he was, he came on with no face, mouth leaking toothpaste, well at least that's what I thought it was, technically suffice, loaded dice, dynamite placed precise.
HOW CAN I MAKE PROPER AND CLEAR DECISIONS?
I CAN'T.

You're all fucking suspect when I puff the ism.
"You thought I was weak? Ha, let me speak."

I got recognised from something once. I was there. I did things I can't really consider memorable but others do. I perform a circus parody of The Truman Show for you all.

"God sent me to piss the world off."

Who?
I was only 15, chasing kids for all day tickets.
Let's just be friends!

The World Cup has me pretty hooked lately. So does Words With Friends.
I KNOW WHY I DON'T WRITE ON THIS FUCKING THING ANYMORE.
NO, NOW I FORGOT.

BECAUSE I ALWAYS END UP BERATING THE SAME SUBJECTS IN AN ENDLESS TIRADE OF HATE AND PAIN AND DRUG INDUCED DEPRESSION.

I can't believe I actually forgot that. Early onset?
I did used to smoke with an alfoil conepiece alot.
Fuck.

"But you don't understand my point of view, I guess there's nothing I can do."

No way.
I was at The Moon the other night, and to the dude who ripped off The Doors - People are Strange, DON'T PLAY THE HARMONICA EVER FUCKING AGAIN, AND I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF YOU JUST BOUGHT IT AND YOU AREN'T USED TO IT YET, PUT IT IN IT'S BOX AND PUT IT TO SLEEP LAD.

"Girl, you'll be a woman soon."

At least I'm not using my old formula. I feel like I changed the oil or something.
And it feels good.
TRY TRANSCRIBING A THOUSAND DEAD RODENTS DREAMS ONTO A PLATE OF PURE SILVER AND TELL ME HOW IT FELT.

The Death's head reared, and the ghosts in the weed smoke scared it away.
Ride on, ride.

I'm going to start putting these into podcasts soon so you can just listen to my inane rants while your riding your customised bicycles and driving your P plate emblazoned cars.
When I work it all out, YOU'LL BE THE FIRST TO KNOW.

"The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men.
Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will,
Shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness for he is truly his brother's keeper,
and the finder of lost children.
And I will strike down upon thee,
with great vengeance and furious anger,
Those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers.
And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee. "

The Internet is right, always.

EVEN WHEN YOU PUT IT ON A PLANE.

And she's your sister.

2010-06-15T09:15:00.000-07:00

Adopted.

The encyclopedia of Indian Reservations.
It's your dad speaking.
Turn that shitbox off because secret suckers got pulled into a family matter.
Pop bottles, not shots.
Medication track athletes foot, charging fifty bucks a bag of soot, the chest blest with continous treatment, defeatist behavior makes sure coppers stay bent, I used to buy nangs instead of paying rent.
New Jack City with a ginger recipe, no tears of angels to clean up the shit we see.

We go back and forth with no choice but to destroy all that you know, because soon enough you go. To a happy place or a cadet in space we all go somewhere.

I'm going home.

X Files Roolz.

2010-06-11T12:23:00.000-07:00

I'm going to fail uni. True.
Designed Kareena's new tattoo.
D5's, Xanax and red wine.
Spas are the new black.
Dope Shit is back.
I've had nothing to say, so I don't say shit,
Learn the rules little soldier, you might gain wisdom, legit.

You're only running a treadmill.

2010-05-26T11:38:00.001-07:00

I'm a beast.
What, they corresponded through E-Mail?
The three stooges were stopped in their tracks by the facts.
They grew cactus like factories made freeways,
buried on the bodies of dead children,
I'm a martyr, go on act toy with me, I'll hire a hitman.

67%.

Wayne's World turned into a Jisoe fueled bowl of pens with a naked Mary Kate Olsen doll. Empty bottles of Fanta and feelgoods.

Oh, oh oh.
I POKE HER SO MUCH I DESERVE A BRACELET.

Huxley held the Hell's Angels from their hair over the halfway house's heightened hallway. I WILL WIN, THEY KNOW THIS BUT THEY DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE WAY OF THE PEACEFUL WARRIOR.

MUST ADO ABOUT NOTHING

2010-05-20T09:13:00.000-07:00

"My team of five tailors sews my pants on one thread at a time, just like anyone else."

Time travel with a Dremel. PCP, where are you?
I wanna eat my face, but not like a dirty gurner.
I DO MY RESEARCH.
CHANCES ARE I KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU THAN YOU KNOW ABOUT ME, AND I WRITE ABOUT IT ON THE INTERNET.

AND YOU FUCKING WITH ME?
I'd rather just laugh at the powder puff, powder snotted out sponsored kids.
I PUT THE FUCKEN' A IN W.A AND THE IC IN V.I.C.

Part two motherfuckers.

SURPRISE.

Hunt this out.

2010-05-12T20:36:00.000-07:00

Any mixtape that can pull off jumping from ripping on Dorrough then straight into ripping into Jay-Z's D.O.A is good enough for me.

No Ceilings, motherfucker good morning, dick in yo' mouf like, why you yawning?

My flow sick, your flow, dead.

Live from the Bunker.

2010-05-07T22:46:00.000-07:00

"I raise the bar, make noise, put it down and get applause like a weightlifter/
You could have twenty mates with ya, i'll leave you choking on the mic like you sipping straight paint stripper/
And make your women yell for me, they're hell horny, I'll have that pussy locked down like Schapelle Corby."

-Bigfoot

Pirate speech.
From coast to coast these feminazi alcholics won't stop pressing a horde of potato stamps into my face. I'm a Raging Bull, without the shit, you know i come through with hit after hit. So many impossible combos to leave your lip split.
MY METHOD IS BACKWARDS AND OLD FASHIONED.
Copies of "Things I Hate in Two Thousand and Eight" will be floating around yr best mates houses soon. If you like what you read, email me and fucken buy one.
THIS LABOUR OF LOVE HAS TURNED TO A JOB I HATE.
The devolution solution, soluble in water, cold water extractions, grab the pestle and the mortar.

Call it a case of a drag queen has been eating cold baked beans in the wrong scene.
Let's Jimmy this shit up.

Yesterday was just yesterday, tommorow is yesterday in two days, last week was just seven days ago, I need a Bundy.
Wow, how did I do that? I think I just let my fingers do the walking, strutting around the keyboard not really knowing what direction Alice would take.

IMMA STALK HER ANYWAY.
YOU CAN PAY 666 EUROS TO GET AN EVIL CLOWN TO STALK SOMEONE YOU KNOW FOR A WEEK.

IT ENDS WITH A PIE IN THE FACE.

Round Here.

2010-05-03T20:37:00.001-07:00

You should all be about Robin Elliot.
This dude is blowing up like Mike Jones' telephone.
Click here to view his catalogue.

Sorry Mum.

Work in Progress.

2010-05-02T02:29:00.001-07:00

Just busy being busy.

2010-05-01T07:29:00.001-07:00

Shout out to Mr. Bean keeping it mean in the East London scene, Trashing British Property.
We, are, the firm, sit down, listen, and learn.

Make an offer for the sign please, I need cash.

Dedicated to the Internet.

2010-04-27T23:22:00.000-07:00

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.

2010-04-24T10:18:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-15T00:55:00.001-07:00

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.

2010-04-14T23:21:00.000-07:00

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.

Destroy stereotypes.

2010-03-31T02:23:00.000-07:00

Muslim kings are also a part of Indian pride. Akbar the Great was a powerful Mughal emperor who sought to resolve religious differences, and was known to have a good relationship with the Roman Catholic Church as well as with his subjects - Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs and Jains. He forged familial and political bonds with Hindu kings. Although previous Sultans had been more or less tolerant, Akbar took religious intermingling to new level of exploration.

He developed for the first time in Islamic India, an environment of complete religious freedom.

Akbar undid most forms of religious discrimination, and invited the participation of wise Hindu ministers and kings, and even religious scholars to debate in his court.

Interview with Micky from Suffer.

2010-03-26T01:16:00.000-07:00

Micky does the vox for Perth noisegrindidontknowtheseemofuckinggaygenres band SUFFER. THEY ARE A GOOD BAND. Anyway I got hell baked mannn and interviewed him. That's them up on the banner, playing at now defunct Hyde Park Hotel.

I NEVER PAID FOR GIGS THERE I WAS A SCENE HATER
JUST CREEPED IN LIKE A CREEPY FUCKING PIECE OF TOY SHIT.

THEY NEVER MADE YOU PAY FOR OPEN MIC NIGHT, OH THAT'S RIGHT BECAUSE HIPHOP BECAME OPEN MIC NIGHT WHICH BECAME A HIP HOP NIGHT AND GRAFFITI WRITERS GOT THE GAME SHUT DOWN. FUCK THEM ALL, BOMB THE VENUE.
I digress.

HEY, I THINK YOUR FROM THAT BAND SUFFER?
Yes, that is correct.

SO YOU ARE COOL, THAT'S REALLY COOL, ANYWAY WHY DO YOU SCREAM SO MUCH?
It's funny you ask such a question, because I've always thought of myself as a giant (humongous even) loser (note: not cool), so it makes me sad and depressed and I hate the world and all that cliche stuff that someone who screams a lot should say. I'm not an insider or an outsider and since I hate myself, I hate everything else even more, so why not have a whinge about it eh? Mad emo bro.

HAHA, THAT WAS ONE SMALL INCIDENT WITH THE REMOTE CONTROL YOU LARRIKIN, ANYWAY WHAT MOTIVATES YOU TO MAKE THAT SORT OF NOISE, AND IF YOU DO CHOOSE TO MAKE THOSE NOISES HOW DO YOU MAKE THEM?
Read above, bro. Just being a hate monger. I like to write heavy hard hitting riffs and then fast maniac shit. It's like being devo at one point and then having a short, sharp burst of energy. It's only short though, don't stress.

IVE NEVER WRITTEN A MUSIC INTERVIEW BEFORE. WHATS ONE REALLY FUCKED UP THING THAT HAS HAPPENED IN YOUR LIFE THAT YOU WONT REGRET BECAUSE IT HAS LEAD YOU TO WHERE YOU ARE NOW?
Taggin' bro. The taggin' gang world introduced me to a lot of different kind of people and has definitely changed the way I look at the world (coz I'm now a hatefilled, judgemental, cunt). It might suck being such a cry baby all the time, but you know, I'd rather know what I know and think how I think than be some MATRIXED OUT MOTHERFUCKER, WHO ONLY THINKS WHAT I'M TOLD TO. This band is my current void filler. If I break up with my girlfriend or quit this band for a while, I'll more than likely start bombing harder again. It happened last time.

NOW I HAVE YOU STUMPED FOR A SECOND I CAN THINK OF MORE THINGS TO SAY.
Wicked. I think I fed you what you wanted to swallow, cun.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN VEGANISM BEING A CULT? Not really. I know people who claim to be vegan, but I haven't really been exposed to their vegan lifestyle. The only thing which leads me to believe that they may be vegan, is because they said so on the internet. Windows, Microsoft, Mac, Linux - that's the real cult. Internet. The Blue Oyster Kvlt. Kvlt means black. Now think about that. Black Helicopters. Fuck diets.
DO YOU THINK VEGETARIANS ARE LIKE BI SEXUAL SCIENTOLGISTS? THEY CAN GET CLOSE TO BOTH TEAMS, BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY, THEY RECRUIT PEOPLE ON THE SLY AND TAKE THEIR MONEY.
I don't think they are a 'group' that takes money. Any intelligent vegetarian would just choose the diet (fuck diets bro) and not put pointless time and effort into donating to dietary charities. They would fund Woolworths (toys) and buy celery sticks exclusively. They might also buy salmon and chicken too, because if you eat white meat, then that's okay bro. Furthermore, as we all know, vegetarians are fake toy pussies. Vegan's actually don't rate vegetarians; I've heard this on the internet. There is a cool poster VEG(ETARI)AN: CUT OUT THE CRAP. So good. Cheese rules. Eggs suck. Thanks cun.

WORD ASSOCIATION.
MURDER
Toffee
FAME
Toy
POWER
Violence
MONEY
Ka$$$h Money Crew
PYRAMIDS
Schemes
DEAD SEA SCROLLS
Atlantis

I AGREE ABOUT THE GRAFFITI PART. WOULD YOU SAY THE REASONS MUSICIANS DO THE RIVER PHEONIX IS BECAUSE THEY DIDNT WRITE GRAFFITI? THEY JUST END UP SNORTING THE WAY TO THE PRESCRIPTION PAD IN BETWEEN BANDS?
Nah man, toys just can't handle their addictions. Drugs shouldn't be used as a means to fill a void. THE DRUGS CONTROL YOU IN THE END IF YOU ARE TOY. Mo money. You know what's up.

I LIKE GETTING BAKED. THOUGHTS?
Wicked. Getting baked can be awesome, unless you turn into a Saturn Fly Catcher like Bruce UTBP. That cunt needs to settle down. I enjoy lengthy conversations and discussions about philosophy when I'm ripped as fuck.

FAVOURITE BANDS APART FROM ABCD? Paranoid Riptoid, Sock Maggot, Eyesore, Helta Skelta, Grief, Dystopia, Happy Families, Corrupted, Crossed Out, Konfu$ed Crew, Metlica.

THE GAME NEVER CHANGES, ONLY THE PLAYERS. WHO'S RUNNING THE SHIT AT THE MOMENT? No individual is ever in control bro. You should know that. We're all just cogs in the world's machine and all that. This is also a fucking broad question with countless answers. I only count to 18 anyway, because thumbs aren't fingers, but toes are toes (weird hugh? What is a big toe referred to as?).

FAVOURITE COVER ART? Iron Monkey - Our Problem

FAVOURITE LINE FROM A RAP SONG. I KNOW YOU GOT ONE. 'I'm lookin' nothing like yo poppa, I wouldn't give a chick ten cent to put cheese on a whoppa. Y'all wanna know why I'm so fly? A Girl asks me fo a ring and I put one around her whole eye'. Cun.

ANY NEW PROJECTS ON THE AGENDA AND YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN WHEN I ASK THIS YEP ATTILA THE HUN WITH A GUN, KEEP YA DISTANCE.
I don't know what you mean, bro. Suffer are touring in April; Melbourne, Brisbane and Adelaide. We've got a new 12" record which will also be out in April also. We'll be on hiatus for around 3 or 4 months, so I'll probably be more active in my other band, Drowning Horse. That is another project I am 'working on'. I generally just play guitar, use a large array of amps and look sad. Wicked.

WOULD YOU JOIN THE IRA?
KORDS SPEED FREAKS ANONYMOUS.

DO YOU LIKE WONDERSHOWZEN OR SUPERJAIL! BETTER?
Spankwire

THANKS FOR YOUR DEVOLUTION.
UTBP .

NEVER RUN AWAY FROM THE TIME POLICE YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE

2010-03-25T11:16:00.001-07:00

New zine in the works, collecting contributions now then going to Adelaide and finishing it off.
Suck a fuck weeksters.

YR HISTORY BICH

2010-03-20T01:02:00.001-07:00

As I watch you stutter, it's always funny.
Biff Assault Squad, the UndefeaTed Bastard Punx.
Heavens Kastaways, Second Family.

Photo roll over the last fortnight. Credit to Stevo for the Melbourne flicks. Rest in peace Haz & Mish.

Eight milligrams daily.

2010-03-19T10:40:00.000-07:00

The electric kool aid test detracts from any kool you might have lying around your house. The immunity of some to the impunity of others is measured at an exponential rate. I wish some friends I had were still my friends, but they can go rot for all I care. Doesn't make sense right? To envelop the masses in a blanket of comfort one must make them feel as if they are to be worried and scared. My biggest fan is on the floor, cage off, unused. Winter is coming and Melbourne/San Fran/Portland/Adelaide is calling. If I fail this semester look out world, I'm coming to date rape you. In the date. On a date. After eating sticky dates. Clear a date for it.

I hate what everyone has become and the perspective I have of them all. I as much hate the perspective that I have of myself, through the eyes of another person, whoever that person may be. The extrapolation of these thoughts leads to none other than a non congruent, disability pension eligible, self destruction device. I have no hope and or dreams to qualify or quantify the ability of the government to reincarnate every last thought I have and display it on the screen of some ASIO agent.
RECRUITMENT DRIVE TO MAKEOUT POINT.
All the while civil libertarians are screaming from the boot located under the bonnet, tied down to the engine block, pistons postulating about how hard to hit them in the face, chest and ribs. The ribs I didn't eat for dinner were delicious. I think my brain has slowly reworked itself into a post traumatic stress frenzy worth nothing but the paper its perforated on.
IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING THAT ISN'T YOURS, HOW DID I KNOW YOU WOULD USE IT ANYWAY? IS IT BECAUSE I KNOW YOU TOO WELL OR YOU KNOW ME TOO WELL?
The Former.
Transformers was on tonight, but I kind of missed out on tonight. Tonight was a write off. I passed out at 5pm and awoke about half an hour ago at 1.30am.

The figure climbed in the window to the sound of a warbling sparrow. The sparrow was all he craved, the innocence of that one bird, the infidelity could be over looked like a neighbours fence. But this bird plagued him. It was the destiny of the bird to flutter around, eating what was left by the Seagulls and the Pigeons, and the anchor could never sink his boat steady. He had to realise this.
But one day the anchor could maybe be used in an armed robbery or some sort of cheque fraud.

This writing gig is tiresome then revitalising then tiresome. I wrote down a whole lot of ideas, and tried to draw something on St Patrick's day but it ended badly with a muscle spasm-esque metamorphosis. I digress.

I am now a slave to programming, but the programming of my choosing.
Long live Schedule Four and Schedule Eight drugs.
It's not really Narcotics Anonymous if you tell everyone your name when you rock up, is it.

It's Not Who You Rock in The Scene,

2010-03-13T01:01:00.000-08:00

Rather who you are in between.

I used to listen to this song on repeat with old mates who went and chose their own way and picked their own fate.

Kind of ironic, but true.
Too many brothers gone. The curse of the graffiti writer. When you are exposed to the fact you need to rack your paint, because a 13 year old kid can't explain why he needs 50 dollars to Mum, you are exposed to crime.
You need to paint, it's the closest to heaven as you are gonna get when you're young. That and chrome fills get you high as fuck when your painting a dayspot.
You don't realise this when you're young.

Soon you realise that if racking paint is that easy, racking DVD's and digital cameras is just as easy. Leanovers on rooftops slowly turn to leanovers over counters.

Then your Mum starts asking questions about your new garments and gadgets you flash about every week.
She knows you don't have a job.
So you try and get one step ahead.
You start selling what you've got. If you get cash, you think you'll be ok, you can just lie and say you have a job, even pay board and for food.

But then people start offering to swap you drugs for your goods.
Just as good as money, you probably get more money from the drugs then if someone paid straight cash, but you need to know people to liquify it to.
So you start moving in circles of users. You say you'll never be like them, and your just dealing to get by.
One day, a unsatisfied customer comes and says they want their money back, the shit you sold them was mud. The customer says you should start sampling the shit before you fucking sell it you monkey.

Then you start using, but just to make sure that your clientele are getting the best, and keep coming back.

Sooner than later, you are going to them for shit, and begging for another week to pay them back.

In the beginning all you wanted to do was write graffiti and get laid.
Now you're underweight, with one foot in the grave.

Too many times has this song been playing and all I get are bad acid flashbacks of my life and the lives of those I miss to this day.

I like Milk.

2010-03-10T10:23:00.001-08:00

I love Milk.
Flavoured, Full cream, Hilo.
Even Soy.

I was so influenced by advertising I bought a two dollar packet of gum.
My scissors are red.
I only have three Valium left.
I do have more than three Fisherman's Friends left.
I wish fishermen had real friends, and not just friends that hang out in a packet.

I have a real leather jacket and a real pleather jacket.
I need a lamp in my room so I can scrawl in the dark and not by computer light.
Billie gave me a poster by Ralph Steadman and I have slid some typewritten parchment in between the broken shards of glass and the poster.

Sometimes I'll wake up with a whole lot of stuff in my room that I can't remember buying or stealing.

Once I woke up in someone's house in North Perth. No one was home. I didn't fuck anyone because apparently I woke up in a guys bed. It could of been a squat because I had called a friend and told her about it as it was happening, and she said, that I said, there was fuckall in the house. The only reason I remember that ever so vaguely is because she reminded me about it when we were walking on Lake St a few months ago.

I suffer severe self induced memory loss.

Suffer are a good band. So are BLKOUT.
UNTOUCHABLE BASTARDS, PERTH.
That's some real unity there.
I should go to uni today.

Fuck.

This is what was under my bed.

2010-03-09T05:46:00.001-08:00

Exhibit A.

Yep. I had that all under my bed. Want to sleep with me anymore than you did thirty seconds ago?

Bitches Ain't Shit.

Coremitted eshay.

I'm a Chiko roll man.

DEAR UNIVERSITY OF MELBOURNE STUDENT

2010-03-08T01:20:00.000-08:00

Totally unrelated piece of 80's throwback.
Now I continue.

Yes.
It's true.

I FUCKING HATE BEL MONEYPENNY, THE IDIOTIC EDITOR IN CHIEF AT VOICEHURTSFAGAZINE. IT'S OBVIOUS. I MENTION HER STUPID NAME ONCE IN THIS BLOG. YET YOU LOT, SEEM TO KEEP COMING TO THIS SITE. BRING BACK THE OLD EDITOR.

HOWEVER, IT'S NOT THIS THAT I MIND. BY ALL MEANS, INVADE MY BRAIN AND PLAGIARIZE MY SHIT, USE TRACING PAPER AND WHITE OUT ON YOUR BRAND NEW LCD PLASMA HEROIN MONITORS BUT FOR FUCKS SAKE.

INSTEAD OF GOOGLING "FUCK BEL MONEYPENNY",
JUST COME STRAIGHT HERE.

THE ADDRESS IS HTTP://WWW.TOETAGSANDBODYBAGS.BLOGSPOT.COM
THAT WILL LEAD YOU TO WHAT YOU ARE READING NOW.
FROM HERE YOU CAN NAVIGATE TO LAST NOVEMBER OR FEBRUARY OR WHENEVER THE FUCK IT WAS THAT I HATED SOMEONE SO MUCH I WROTE "FUCK BEL MONEYPENNY" AS A BLOG TITLE, AND YOU KNOW WHAT?

I THINK IT WAS THE SIX MINUTES AND 46 SECONDS AND FOUR PAGE VIEWS THAT PISSED ME OFF MORE.
AND NOW YOU STUDENTS ARE SEARCHING ADOLFO AS WELL.
(I THINK I SAID SOMETHING ABOUT HIM ONCE, AFTER THE SATANIC SPAWN OF SERIAL MASTUBATORS WAS WIPED OFF THE SHEET AND FED TO HIM BY THE EVIL MS. MONEYPENNY HERSELF. THAT OR SHE JUST REFERRED ME ON. FUCK I HATE THESE PEOPLE.

IM PRETTY SURE HER REAL NAME IS BEL SCHENK.
HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?
SO JUST SEARCH FOR BEL SCHENK NOW, AND END UP HERE, TO END UP READING ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU FUCKING PISS ME OFF BY DOING THAT.
ALSO DOWNLOAD MY FREE CONTENT TO THE RIGHT AND HAVE A NICE DAY.
WELCOME TO COSTCO.
I LOVE YOU.

HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?

Band Recruitment.

2010-03-04T03:03:00.000-08:00

I want to start a band called The Schedule Eight's.
I want to cover this song made famous by The Clash.
I've blatantly changed the lyrics.

P.S The people who search Google with "fuck bel moneypenny" for the last 6 months, just come directly here dudes.

The police walked in for Jimmy Hats
I said, he ain't here, but he sure went past
Oh, you're looking for Jimmy Hats.

Sattamassagana for Jimmy Dread
Cut off his ears and chop off his head
Police came looking for Jimmy Hats.

So if you're gonna take a message 'cross this town
Maybe put it down somewhere over the other side
See it gets to Jimmy Hats, see.

So tell me now
Police come in they said
Now, where's Jimmy Hats?
I said, Hmm he was here but uh,
He said he went out?

Who is it they're looking for?
Jimmy Hats, Hats, Hats, Hats eh

Sattamassagana for Jimmy Dread
Cut off his ears and they'll chop off his head
Oh you're looking for
Jimmy Hats, Hats...

What a relief!
I feel like a soldier,
But I look like a thief.

The police walked in for Jimmy Hats
I said, he ain't here, but he sure went past
Oh, you're looking for Jimmy Hats.

Don't you bother me, not anymore
I can't take this tale, oh, no more
It's all around, Jimmy Hats.

H-a-zee zee H-a-zed zed
H-a-zed zed Jimmy Hats.

And then it sucks.
He said, suck that!
So go look all around, you can try your luck, brother.
And see what you found.
But I guarantee you that it ain't your day.
Your time, it ain't your day.

Chop! Chop!

Less Prevalent, More Potent

2010-03-04T02:42:00.000-08:00

I'VE BEEN BITTEN BY THE WRITING BUG AGAIN.
STAY TOONED FOR MORE WORK SOON.
I NEED TO GO TO UNIVERSITY LIKE, MORE THAN ONCE A WEEK.
HOPEFULLY MY PERVERSITY IS REVEALED SOON.

Less Prevalent, More Potent

Stay free little kid,
Your mother ain't what she said she did,
So turn and face your father kid,
And do all the things that he taught you.

But when all your father taught you was to hold a gun,
and treat women like targets, one by one,
You always end up in the wrong place,
With the wrong someone.

So grow tired of the withdrawal affects and let your muscles cramp,
cos' after a while, the pills stop making you smile, and you're hocking in your brother's amp.

A good friend asked me for Heroin the other day, so I gave her a bar of Xanax.

She passed out in my housemates bed 25 minutes later, fuck her, I need that shit, I'm prone to panic attacks.

If she can't handle one pill, why is she asking me for the Holy Communion, to be so Frenchy, so Chic?
The fame of glamour and fortune is evenly balanced by the fame of solitude and poor health, and left a mystery, like the detective on Twin Peaks.

You're famous kid.

Because everyone knows who that guy is.

Acksplotationblay.

2010-02-27T22:00:00.001-08:00

Do the right thing like Ikespay Eelay.

Politician, politician, politician.
Hungover.
BOYS AIN'T SOBER.
THE BASTARDS.

Fuck Perth literary wankers.

2010-02-25T05:58:00.000-08:00

This is a transcript from when I tried to submit work to a, lets say, nameless webzine based in Perth. I need a manager, because I can't deal WITH FUCKING NOBODIES WHO HAVEN'T EVEN LIVED THEIR WORK.

I digress, and now begin the transcript.
P.S The names have been changed to protect, well, fuck them. They know who they are. THEY EVEN STARTED WRITING LIKE ME AFTER I SHOWED THEM MY WORK.

Email One
Civilization isn't just a computer game.
The bright lights of big cities blinding anything but your soul. Petula Clark would have squinted at you, then asked for some spare change. The parts we play, the drone of the drones of our hummingbird idealism, all contribute to our city. The putrid mess of glassings, gang violence, bikie controlled tattoo parlours and single fathers.
Do you ever think about why we group together?
The people you see, who know people you've seen, who've been places you will never see.
The essence of the guilty only resonates in the people who judge.

Everyone is a celebrity these days. Look at your Facebook civilization. Built from the ground up.
There will be a generation of children who could be taught that the Internet has been around forever.
But to be civilized you have to abide by rules, regulations, recent events and retaliate when pushed into the corner.
Pushing packets on the corner?
It's a sight I've seen too many times, the crumbs of society left to rot, every Friday the fried heads get fried by tasers.
Civilization's foundation is on shaky ground. We have built it on handshakes and money. Old money, new money, money printed on paper, papyrus scrolls with value scrawled on it by a machine.
One day, Anarchy will come.
Come on, for fucks sake.
Class War.
Sustained, move to strike.
The whole idea of civilization is built on class. Class exists. It might not be the caste system we observe overseas, but it still raises its Skull and Bones flag every time a favour is needed.
Unions prove this.
Classroom antics in primary school. Remember the kid you picked on? The one you thought would be serving your selfish spawn McZingers?
Think about his family.
His dad might know someone, who knew someone else, who was the Bursar at an elite school.
All of a sudden, that kid is smiling the loudest.
Civilizations are built to self destruct. If there was no need to make money from building things your patriotism blew up in the first place, there would be no need to see the space left in your nepotism. There are many ways you could describe the sorry state of affairs we have placed ourselves in, but just look back at the Mesopotamians, the Aztecs, the Mayans.
Where are their belltowers and ferris wheels?
Are they our pyramids, our libraries of Alexandria, our Towers of Babylon?
Our contribution to the future master species of the world will be pillars of salted iPods.
We have come this far only to want to revert back to the idea of minimalism, which apparently was invented by Steve Jobs.
What ever happened to the architecture that suited the land it was built on.
I can't see the forest for the trees, due to the array of cranes scarring the skyline so subtlety. Our glass houses, our glass offices, our glass pipes, all for the hedonism of now.
What happens when Will Smith ends up hunting deer through the Northbridge tunnel?
I'll be riding shotgun with my trusty rusty, looking hazy through the dusty remnants of our society.
The pounding of the new world order on our door, the flags we wave all have the same colours.
People exclaiming how these colours never run, but I painted your flag with mascara.
I can't normalise my ideas for you and I won't try to.
The end has always been nigh, the sandwich boarders boarding at my house who are always welcome, the people who dedicated the time they have left on this earth to letting us know we have none left.
I have been one of those soothsayers with a toothache, letting go of it all just to sample the post it notes I've written on the street, for all you to see.
By visually invading your space, the kids and adults who choose to lose the plot and perpetrate larceny are freer than you ever will be. The downfall of civilization and society means nothing to me.
When it comes down to brass tacks,
as long as I can hand in my Centrelink form with both limbs intact,
I'll know that I haven't cracked.
Yet.

Cry, you've seen my blog. You know I can write.

Jimmy Hats.

Reply One

Some good writing in there.

It doesn't hold together well enough for the blog.

Keep writing.

Editor

perthliterarywankers.com

Email Two

Can you explain how it doesn't hold together for the blog?

Jimmy Hats.

Reply Two
Fragments. Non-sequiturs. No theme or setting. No narrative hook.

Plus quite a few of your statements are indefensible. As in, "Civilization isn't just a computer game". This implies that it is generally believed that civilization is a computer game, which is not actually the case. That is just one of many examples.
Editor.

(This fuckwit doesn't even remember that Civilization was a Real Time Strategy PC Game released around 1995.)

Email Three
Whom do I have the utmost pleasure of communicating with?
(To which I didn't recieve a reply to)

Email Four

So you won't own up to an anonomous parody of opinion but you'll hide behind a psudeonym of editor?

Is this so I can't nitpick your work and make your sorry excuse for a collective realize your degrees don't mean shit In the real world, and not everyone likes to read contrived masturbatory rants about what they did that nearly got them arrested.

There's my submission, straight to brass tacks, and it seems like it is you lot that end up on your backs.

Take it like a bitch cos that's all the submitting your gonna get.

Can't even own up who you are.

Dr. Jimmy Hats, Esquire.

Bunch of pretentious western suburbs spoonfed cunts. You plagarize my shit anyway and try to nitpick my work?

Own up who you are and we'll see who can nitpick, you peon.

So I get angry.
It's not my fault.
WHAT IS MY FAULT IS THAT I THOUGHT MAYBE LITERARY MINDED PEOPLE MIGHT SHOW SUPPORT FOR ONE ANOTHER, INSTEAD, THEY JUST RIPPED OFF MY STYLE OF WRITING. IT'S EVIDENT WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN AFTER MY SUBMISSION THEY END UP BEATNIKKING, OR, BEATOFFING EVERY SINGLE PARAGRAPH.
TRUE CULTURE FUCKING VULTURES.

Vented, now I can sleep better.
YOUR WHOLE AURA IS PLEXIGLASS AND NOONE BOUGHT YOUR SECOND BOOK SO YOU MOVED BACK TO YOUR MOTHERS HOUSE YOU DIMWITTED EXCUSE FOR A BUKOWSKI BITER.

Now, that's a vent.

The blog time forgot.

2010-02-25T00:56:00.000-08:00

The cult of the celebrity. The possibility of everyone being FAMOUS. Fan pages on Fakebook.
The fame game is just a drain on your membrane. I am having trouble understanding this obsession.

If you are on chatroulette.com you are looking at yourself looking at a camera. You are now self conscious.
You have woken up.
You perceive yourself and now adjust yourself according to what you have seen and how you think you are perceived by your webcam counterpart.

YOU HAVE JUST BROKEN THE FOURTH WALL.
This is a film making term.
Hopefully you are familiar with it.
If you aren't,
"The presence of the fourth wall is an established convention of fiction and drama, which has led some artists to draw direct attention to it for dramatic or comedic effect. When this boundary is "broken", for example by an actor onstage speaking to the audience directly, or doing the same through the camera in a film or television program, it is called "breaking the fourth wall."

Your actions are now self monitored, you act out in ways you probably wouldn't and your perceptions are now askew.
Welcome to the society of the Panopticon.

You a plastic thought regurgitator with no hope or recognition,
the sins you blessed were that of divine definition,
so come the raw prawn singing Waltzing Matilda, without salvation,
Stand in the sun of the all seeing eye horoscope, one world nation.

Twenty twelve, what becomes of thee,
Another bullshit pagan Mayan government regiment philosophy,
So stop the soliloquy and pay attention with your wallets,
It's Y2K again, conglomerate raking and raping in mass profits.

The prophet was never born, and my namesake the same,
If James was Jesus' brother, than I'm slightly insane.

Diagnostic agnostic priests of belief in deceit receive relief by way of government rationed beef.

Trick or Retreat, the price is always wrong,
because time after time my head's clouded from paint fumes and homemade Gatorade bongs.

The diatribe you confer to me is one of pure energy, focused on points, like a magnifying glass beam and the ants it anoints. I can speak without speaking and know how you really act, the whole stage is a show and your life is the final act, no intermission, the last time the sun revolved the earth, Da Vinci discovered nuclear fission.

Fusion, better than soul, so sell your scuffed soles through the glory hole at the Superbowl.

People think I'm paranoid, I'm just a realist,
so when I'm being a pessimist, I'm just pissing in your nest.

Rest in Peace Else, Kmit, Mishen and Hazedus.
And all the rest, lest we forget.

You know who needs a bodybag?

2010-02-21T07:41:00.000-08:00

Something I found that I wrote as a comment on someone's blog, some idiot who writes meaningless messages on post it notes, then photographs them and writes down their location. I'm not gratifying them with a link, but rest assured that this cat is a phony, I ain't bullshit. The poor bastard has 4000 fans on Fakebook.

I'll eat your cunt with a spoon.

Anonymous said...

Hello, I think what you're doing is really meaningful it makes people smile when they read this and they remind us of those we forget. Keep it up dear, this is really sweet; August 16, 2009 1:46 AM
Jimmy Hats said...: I believe this is very trite, with no real sentiment or message.
There is a beauty in impermanence, however to simply promote a collation of similar post it notes on a blog detracts any subtext I could even try to read into from your work.

From banality comes creative merit, and from this same creative merit spawns a chance to remove the idea of simply making a glorified advertisement for how alternative you are. It is one thing to conjure thought, and another when the thought conjure nought, except making art a sport. Thumb up but then thumb down, period.; August 16, 2009 3:16 AM
Anonymous said...: Ouuuuch Jimmy Hats. Can't say I disagree though, good point.; August 28, 2009 8:35 PM

The king is dead, long live the king.

Think about it.

2010-02-16T09:08:00.000-08:00

RZA Part II.

2010-02-12T07:28:00.000-08:00

Recieved a text message from my good friend who went to go get a book signed over east on the RZA tour.

"Man, Bobby has your zines packed in his hand luggage to read for the flight home, and he said you held your own on the board!"

Does life need anything else?

I played Chess with the RZA.

2010-02-10T23:52:00.001-08:00

Hope you enjoyed the zines Bbbbbobby.
Twenty-four hour flight, at least you got some light reading.

I already hear "Bullshit" being called about the title.
But trust.

The ever present Gracey from http://chroniclesofdardia.blogspot.com was in RZA's hotel room last night.
They needed to get lifted. I was called. I was already lifted so I thought they were playing a joke on me. I caught a Taxi to the Sheraton with this rad taxi driver. I told him who I was going to see, but he feigned ignorance. I, out of shock since this taxi driver was twenty five, yelled WU TANG CLAN at him. He suddenly jogged his mind round the projects, worked out he knew RZA and kept smiling at me.

Jesse Chip from http://alldayidreamaboutsauce.blogspot.com was already there, with Gracey and beautiful Rosie Bates. Your breasts looked amazing Jesse. But I already said that.

If I wasn't so sedated I would of beaten him or at least stalemated him. I may have lost but I got my Tiger style on and showed him I wouldn't let him walk all over me. Stewie, bad luck mate.
Trust.
Fucks sake, he's the grandmaster, the grandmaster of the Gravediggaz.
I showed him moves he hadn't seen before.

Quote unquote.
Rewind.

I showed the RZA moves he ain't seen before.
I had him stunned.

The RZA seemingly respected my game yo. I was in a haze of confusion and delight. The banter wasn't spoken much with words, but mainly with moves. There was this dude that was pestering me, Stewie, and trying to give me advice, even though he seemed to be a muppet. I was right. Stewie goes and gets checkmated in two moves. The Abbot recognized real. One of the highlights for me would be The Big Payback blaring out the speakers, crew know. Me and RZA both bopped to Brown.

Zigga Zag Zig even honoured my blackbook.
Life is complete.
I got lifted with a member of the Wu, RZA of all people, and went a round of Chessboxing with him at two in the morning at the Sheraton hotel.
No need to set goals for a while.

Birds.

2010-02-05T11:32:00.001-08:00

My local fish and chip shop, ahh scallops with the lots of flavour on top, has a poster of birds. These are their stories.

I imagine this bird to be exactly like my ever longed after Maggie G, in the motion picture Secretary.
You'd fucking hope so.

Audrey Allen, this bird weirds me out.

Hahah. I made it say "Cock" and "Pecker".

Even if it's the size of this, it's okay, as long as they;

Do girls with Swallow tattoos swallow? I need to gather intel.

The bird that represents every pseudo ex-pat from Western Australia, no extra hipstur points sorry. You realise the Pigeon is a rat with wings, don't you? Right?

King of PARADISE. Nuff' said.

Dude, it's like an Eagle and an Owl. Imagine an old American biker and a HxC Neo Traditionalist fan talking about tattoos and this bird just perching between them. Who would win?

Insomnia sucks. Big 'tings 'gwan soon so stay tuned.

Sly like Stallone.

2010-02-04T01:04:00.001-08:00

Dude.

ON TRACK LIKE HOPSCOTCH ON THE THIRD.

2010-01-31T00:25:00.000-08:00

ON THURSDAY I HAD FIFTY ONE VISITS.
THIS IS A RECORD.
EAT MY SELF LOATHING MY PRETTIES, THE REVELATION HAS ONLY JUST BEGUN, THE TRAINING TO TRAILING DECENT DESCENT.

Xanax Panic.

2010-01-29T10:35:00.000-08:00

Gargle down stolen Passiona. Those bitter caplets are from Capulet not Montegue.
ASSASSIN DUCK NOW
They have wellingtons on, trunging through the mud.
A shot rings out and everyone drops, one mans mouth grazing a wooden box, leaving his tongue tasting the rainbow, writhign around in a puddle of dirt and rain.
The humidity didn't help. Val Kilmer's experiments continued like Hitler's and there was peace restored to our great nation.
Then they started again.
Pop pop, the sound of modern day catapults throwing dead AIDS patients into our hospitals.
NAME BRAND NEVER GENERIC.

to ask a question;
inquiry.

THERE IS A SWEAT MARK ON YOUR ASSERTED FACE, LOOK AT YOUR LOOK AND YOU DONT FOOL YOURSELF. SUCKERS NEED BODYGUARDS AND YOUR SKIN IS PROACTIV. MY EARS JUST FELL OUT BECAUSE OF A WRX MILO TIN LETTING ONE GO NEXT TO MY HOUSE.

Don't fool them more than once, that's just unsportsmanlike. EVERY CREEPY CREVICE IS FOUND. CREEP WHILST YOU SLEEP. BUT YOU CREEPS OUT THERE, YOU JUST SUCKED ALOT OF COCK TO GET REGURGITATED. WHERE WAS THE LOVE FOR THE GAME?

ITS NOT NBA JAM YOU GUYS, ITS A REAL CULTURE.
You were'nt even on the reserves when we started playing Streetball. So you know your wack, you just jerked the right right hand mans roger.

And you vultures will get your come uppance. Just wait. If Grey and Amaze can ruin with a fluro green filled fire extinguisher than imagine what could happen with a few tins of chrome.

I DIGRESS, NOT DIGEST.
The cunt couldn't eat his own dinner, even if his boyfriend made it for him. I have no respect, that's why you don't respect me.
Say that to my face and watch it fade to black, then red, then Medicare.
Marlboros.

I need a cigarette, since I haven't found my pouch, it's bumper time.
JUST LIKE LUNA PARK.

I met a decent hearted prostitute next to Luna Park. She bared her soul to me in the car park, then shot up Amphetamines.

3.33am Friday morning.

2010-01-28T14:35:00.001-08:00

I should think more.
Daniel, what I did in Mount Lawley was for Tom and you being a rat. You lied to my face and you should stay out of the neighbourhood. You blagged to two crew members faces. If you want, fix it up, but know I'm not going to let you do what you did get a run in my neighbourhood until you sort your head out. I love that spot and I will make sure you don't get more than a day on it.
That's a promise.
Where were you at Kristians funeral?

Fillins over hollows, thems the breaks ESHAY.
Shades of grey on your jealous green.

I want to incorporate this bin in an installation. I might just do it another morning and take a better photo.

I dumpster dive. No self control. There was just cold plate leftovers and kitchen refuse. Refused to rummage much.

No topping the woob. You don't know what it's like. Your a leper. Sheen from your forehead, blessed by fruity lex.

Wrong side of the tracks. The slice or the pin cushion, the defendant is guilty. Critical condition caused and created by creatine and ketamine fiends, looking like Mr Bean. Sip lean? That purp, purp, purp. Jervis Jarvis and the Semi Erections.

Crawling under wire, we avengers, you pretenders.
The red light siding in the hood. Stay away.

Alec Baldwin saved me from the police. It's You can't have your dope and smoke it too hey what's the matter with you?Complicated ok. I wish I had gone to bed. No I don't. I saw this.

Beautiful.

Australian outdoor living. Plastic grass. Soon we will have plastic trees. Everyone will have a flamingo on their postbox. I left a present in a portable toilet. I took your toilet paper it was double ply.

There is a white picket in the corner of my room and I don't know why.

Acetone.

2010-01-28T04:44:00.000-08:00

Duplicate poetry into a number of fake quotas and IQ's
And I accuse you of more than you'd even know about you,
and yes you suck dick successfully, I still possess the god given talent to bring the recipe,
for disaster fam, I remember back in the flats kicking it, you know how to handle fam, sink fosters since we met, gonna consider you my second family, fuck the rest of you silver spoon fed pretentious social maggots who aint worthy of a cardboard sentence.
Let alone a prison one.
You don't even own a gun.
So why you walk round like you got one?
All idea and no infection found, the next time round wipe 'em out without a sound,
senses we need, incentive for greed, freed slaves, still do our bidding for us,
and those slaves,
they have dead presidents,
in order to perpetuate our constant state of fear,
the next high level security meeting CHOGM is getting held here.

I miss you.
Still do til this day.
If you were here youd be grinning, you were there for me since my beginning.

Acetone is a substance that can burn or etch into such porous materials such as plastic signage, chairs, bus stop signs and the like. Pour it into ink. That was for us the next day, trying to sell a bottle of Acetone to our boy at Obese Records so we could get a feed and you could have a room.

Forever my brother.

The Patriot is just a movie.

2010-01-25T00:49:00.000-08:00

I found a wireless network in the waiting room. So I decided to describe everything around me.

50 cm rats tail and gaol tattoos.
Speed addict in the corner, itching.
Mid life crisis man looking at everyone.

Giving the ol' DK's a run on the playlist again.

Old man with amazing hat and cane walks past.
I bet he has the worst disease. He's going to my doctor so I'm probably gonna be stuck here for an extra hour. I should be in there five minutes ago.

My next door neighbours house. No dogs allowed. Derek was running flat stick with a back wheel for his bike the other day. I don't think he bought it.

Withdrawing sucks. I mean, isn't insertion better?
I guess you want to withdraw, insert and repeat.
Money shot from the payola penis. Someone do something. It's Australia day tommorow.
Invasion day?
What are your thoughts on that?
Are we turning nationalist?
I have nothing to do but cause trouble for police and fux with private property. Conscription.
Anarchism vs Nationalism.
Gorbachev.
Keep fighting, it's population control. AK 47, assault rifle.
The cost of peace is eternal war.

There's something in the water. Let's get so caught up trying to one up each other with scene points and the virtual lives we have created for ourselves, they have nullified any resistance.
Futile.

Why does Australia Day mean we have to embrace our alcoholic convict stereotype?

Police Truck

2010-01-19T08:51:00.001-08:00

The heat is on. In more ways than one. But I'll be right.

Draft vest and tattoo by Jimmy Hats.

Mr Bean if I do not recieve a phonecall soon I will be disappointed and the boys ain't satisified. Call me.

Too drunx to fuxx.

And now you reckon I should be introspective, I bet.

Nice house.

I have been mutated by this thing.

2010-01-17T23:55:00.000-08:00

Dietary supplements only supplement my income. I burped up a mango flavour, but havent eaten a mango for two months now. It might be the antacids I ate a couple of minutes ago. If you haven't noticed, it's fucking hot.

I wrote this poem the other day.
I call it The Lonely Labia.

I want to play hide and seek in your cunt
Your cunt muscle
The thing that makes me come
That cunt
That fucking cunt
That thing I came out of
That I always come in
The cunt.

Listening to The Adicts after a handful of Jack and Jills.
Ironic?

Why do people want me to go outside and do things?
Why do I have a rent inspection on Thursday and my room is shot to shit?
Why is it too hot to clean, regardless of how many fans and evaporative air conditioners I have going at once. Pari has Coca Cola at his house. I only have water and ice. The walk isn't worth it. I should just ride trains all day.
Lets chalk that up for next heatwave, if you have consetty and 3.30 we can just sit on the train back and forth in air conditioning with a carton under the seat.

Bugle playing time, be back in a nondescript or known time frame.

Headed towards the light. If DMT is naturally released prior to death, give me Mother's little helpers and staring at the sun instead.
Trying to clean my houdio for the rent inspection is difficult.
I just got gash by taking medicine,
so many broken glass shards.
Keep in a cool, dry place.

EVERYONE KNOWS YOUR NUMBER
EVERYONE KNOWS YOUR SCENE
IF YOU THINK THATS ALL I GOT LEFT
WAIT FOR THE NEXT ZINE.

Someone robbed the Tambourine Man.

2010-01-11T00:22:00.001-08:00

Extract from work. Go jump.

2010-01-06T08:49:00.000-08:00

Running title, The Night Everything Changed.
"Bowel movements are what set us apart from the childish rebaptism of the mid thirties. To delve into the cavity, the ulcer of time that just seems to permeate and rekindle, to work out that the end of society is based on your perception of the others in society is what really counts these days.

Or you could just do what I do.

But what is it that I do? I mesmerize people with feats of extreme depravity slash obnoxiousness and have a severe addiction to grapefruit juice. I remember when I was young. I can keep saying this again and again until I die. The increments will obviously increase but without holding a piece can the police keep the peace?

Probably not.

I strive to be five minutes early. The train was late because of some stickers I put up. Well, that means I was late. I got there, walked a few blocks and jumped on a train to get my medicine. The doctor was throwing sheets at me, and I was gladly helping Medicare help me.

A water bubbler outside of the chemist. The multitude of pills start going down the slippery dip, splashing up and down the sides of my esophagus without any need for attention to detail.

After City West I can feel the anxiety fade.

But when I leave my self imposed confines, I start to thieve, and when Jack and Jill rolled down the hill, the Jacks came chasing down after."

I approximate this to be chopped and changed as this is the only linear section for three pages and YES I NOW KNOW PEOPLE ONLY LIKE LINEAR FOR FUCKS SAKE WHY THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU FUCKING PERVERTED FUCKS I FEEL LIKE EXTRACTING MY DNA AND SHOOTING YOU UP WITH IT SO YOU CAN UNDERSTAND. CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK CAPS LOCK.

THE TRYING LIAF I LEED.

Fucking publishers.

I'm absent without leave.

2010-01-04T08:29:00.000-08:00

The eternal journey into my sickening life. The wealth of the world overtly protected.
Bluffing, never Wuthering, the pitfalls and Heights. Petite maids made of snow guarding the gates of Hades.

The boat has already left, and all you kids are just catching up. It's not the point you make, but the way you choose to express your point. I point a finger and three point back at me. Play your position small soldier.

Opiate dreams are reality encapsulated by warm blanket of sunshine death. More than just sunstroke and peeling skin. Orange juice isn't as good as Grapefruit juice. I put a 99c sticker on a $4.99 bottle of Harvey Fresh Grapefruit juice.
It worked.

I don't have a job. My life's work is still work. I lead the same life you lead.
Except with emo fringe benefits. Benefit was an amazing rapper. I'm going to go see if he's on hypem.com so I can listen to My Story. No results found. Balls to that.
Here are some lyrics.

Whoa.
I found it.

I used to listen to that on repeat when I was about 16.
Dirty little sacred secrets become sacrilegious when spread by surfers of social networking.
Who am I to care when I could calmly stab myself in the stomach, and then upsize my value meal. I can change your outlook with one reference to a book.
Abstract confessions?

A Nurse's Guide to Psychology?
Inside the Brotherhood?
Killing Pablo?

It's a sad vacation we are forced to take, and Alanis Morissette's jagged little pill is more bitter than serrated. Noone believes we are on the eve of destruction. We are always on the edge. That's how it works.

"We have nothing to fear, but fear itself"

Grief is a hard concept to understand. I grieve for friends, I grieve for family, I grieve for others, I grieve for myself. But grief itself is nothing like it could be. An upstairs loft, floating through the window out into the his kingdom of alleyways. Shortcuts that become long cuts in the flesh of a mango.

It takes two to mango. I used to own a shirt advertising Queensland mangoes with that slogan. I think I ruined it with ink. I came to ruin everything. God sent me.
The bullets shot from your cannon of a mouth are just words. Words may be weapons but your slurred speech is that of a sarcastic slut. Inane and loose.

Who do you want to be when you grow up?

To be sidetracked easily is heaven. The naive sip their bottled Evian water, controlled by the moon and it's waxing and waning.

Time will continue. Apparently the Bank of Queensland had a bit of a problem with their ATM's on the 1/1/10. They, for some unbeknown reason to me, "thought" it was 1/1/16.
They time traveled six years into the future for a day.

My kingdom of alleyways, jumping the gun whilst doing a servo run. The only way. It's hard but I'm coming to terms with it. The voracity of the city will never burn down my pity. I'd throw a drink in it's face as we struggled on the floor, causing quiet contusions that don't impress anybody. There was a fire raging today. The smoke was thick, black, rising above and beyond Beaufort st. The comeuppance of a community with nothing to lose.

How many fools does it take to remove a lightbulb?
A meth addict.

Addiction is only a label, the condition itself is not a problem. I remember when I was younger, sometimes everything seemed like it was on Fast Forward. Pun intended. There were moments where everything seemed to move faster than it should, my concepts of reality were completely blurred and in a constant state of hyperactivity. I'd be in one room, then suddenly another.
I found a way to stay the same, but they label me an addict. Strings attached and attracted the similes were not smiling. It's like buying a Push Pop when all you want is a Paddle Pop.

You can eat rainbows, but the window they saw me eat it through wasn't clean enough for them to see the pot of gold. You can never feel alone when Jack and Jill are rolling down the hill.

My life came tumbling after.
This lighting makes you look beautiful. Personal Support Program, the PSP I know better.
Centrelink vet, fallen down steps, not in a band or a gang, but I could bend metal faster than you can.

So here I am, sedated.
But happy.

Nazi "Propaganda" from World War Two.
The cost of peace is eternal war.

Anarchy is dead, I shot it in the head.

2009-12-22T09:29:00.000-08:00

While we are presented with many different factors that contribute to the idea that Anarchy seems to be a clear and present danger, it will never rise to the systemic culture that it did nearly thirty years ago. The simple fact that to organize yourselves as a group that chooses to actively oppose government policy makes you a member of a paramilitary terrorist group, eligible to be watched and made examples of by Federal powers.

The logic is very plain and simple. Mickey Mouse is dead.
The government is always going to be a foreign body to it's people, as it will represent the country to the world although still remain faceless to it's citizens. Not faceless as in no representation, we all know who "leads" our great nation, however in day to day life, the drones will only encounter Police as representatives of the government.

To leave the narrative for a moment, there is without question a sudden spike in the page views for this blog. I lay blame for this upon a certain Social Networking website. It's interesting how people can become "interesting" and worth several minutes of your time each day based purely on how pseudo-intellectual, mysterious or inane and insane you are. The more vague the better, it seems.
However the bend in the trend is when it all falls apart, the inadequacies of your mortal toil, coiled up beneath the radiator, shaking back and forth. Muscular cramps, sleeplessness, irritability and agoraphobia.

I think the people from Voiceworks are onto the fact I despise them to the ends of the earth. Searches from Google bearing names of certain somebodies have landed them here, for extended periods of time.
Ectopic pregnancies in my daily head space.
These vultures of pop culture fed more readily on radiation than on anything with substance and low fat sweeteners.

I'M TALKING EQUAL, BITCHES.
MY SOAPBOX IS HERE, FORREST CHASE PREACHING TIME.

And to have this, this farce, this post apocalyptic haze of disgusting spoon fed Orwellian trash, thrown at my visceral windshield is enough to make my colon explode in a shower of shit. Up with the noveau riche, down with the proles. The time is nigh, that's why we stay high.
149th Street.
How many dead junkies are sleeping forever in the dumpsters of Broadway? How many ways can one choose to pass on their genetic code? Could simply telling someone how much they smell like cat piss, really change their life? Would some Sliding Doors situation unfold, and the dumb stay dumber?

I resent the people with the money, the power and the women.
But if I was to have money, I'd pay for empowerment classes for women, only to lay in wait outside each meeting with a sawn off shotgun. Some argue with the naysayers, and I can only say nay.
Neighbours is on each week, each season, each time they play that song, the author receives a royalty. If Rupert Murdoch or some such bought each theme song to every show that they ever screened, they'd be making money for jam.

And I bet they owned the rights to that theme song too. Wouldn't of made much, see how long that shit lasted? The GFC, the recession we had to have. IMF, CHOGM, Roche and Pfizer. Perform your own rehabilitation, only to see the world through your bloodshot third eye.

A pyramid is one of the strongest shapes that can occur.

LIVE YOUR OWN LIFE, BECAUSE I HAVE GOT TO LIVE MINE.

But people choose to live through other means, surrogates of their own reality. Famous magazine. Facebook. Blogging. Cosplay. Anything to denote a status. Update your future, not just 140 characters. By having character, you are making yourself visible in the fourth dimension.
Am I getting through to you?
If the answer is 42, and it's a catch 22 situation, then why do I smell nothing but arson wafting in through my open window? It's sickly sweet, pine and jarrah, that reminds me of bushwalks and camping. Although the reality of it may be more sinister, it still smells good.

I hate the smell of spaghetti sauce in a jar. I hate the smell of Tuna. It was the eternity of living off Sirena in Oil that made me appreciate flavour. The gourmet cheeses. But do you know what? I want to go back to my squalor of a life. At least I enjoyed it. The constant worries about rent, the never settle down aspects of day to day life, my constant descent into madness, nude and down a spiral staircase. When 2013 comes around, I will be standing atop a burnt out car in the middle of Gnagara Pines going "I TOLD YOU SO. NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED."

Then 2014 comes, the wind blows and this gentleman goes into early retirement.
I pry open my skull with a corkscrew, to show the world that it pays to be a screwup.

People will tell their spawn about you. People will look back at photos of you. People will remember you, for you were everything they weren't. If you are hanging in a cliqué of lookalikes, noone will remember you. Break on through to the other side and race the chicken while you are at it.

The only difference between me and you is I'll actually do it.

It's really depressing when the only emails you receive are spam.
And that sometimes you actually read them.

Some people do this for fun, I'm just a cunt.

Shoebox Mafioso.

2009-12-20T06:28:00.001-08:00

So messed up, I want you here.
Descent into my own cornucopia, my favourite song on repeat for the world to dissect and intrude on.
That's okay, I've still got all my fingers.
Time to forget, hit me as hard as you can. It's unfortunate that it's only you reading this. Think for a second and boycott your avatar.

Don't be a geezer, I used to listen to Weezer.
Battered and bruised, made the six o'clock news with everything to lose. Why did you do that thang to me.

Golf, best way to spoil a good walk. Winston Churchill said that.

Gordon drove a delievery van with a cage in the back.

Any chance of better odds?
The odds of this happening again are at the bottom of a bottle. Back page advertisements.

If the latest and greatest fell in the forest, would the bell toll? This chap is a fucking lunatic. I know what the sharp side of a tongue feels like, and that was during oral sex. Your as gutless as the back of Kalis Brothers. Business is always good when your busy like Elliot Ness. Sad day in Serbia, bad day in Bosnia.

The light is on and burning brightly for the masses. Would you be capable of handling your own spawn, if they were missing a chromosome. The older women are just jam rolls. Who wants to count empty bottles with me, just to pass the day away. It would be stupid to waste food. I stood to make alot of money, but the only way it can be resolved is with a printing press. Everyones got a reputation to lose, but I've lost mine already. Three days later, I rose again, just to swallow more codswallop. Get nasty. Mess everyone right up. Rob's your mothers bruvva.

I think I need a drink but I can't afford a middy. The last time I was happy with a drink price I was so excited I fell off my dinosaur. Little bit of pain never hurt nobody.

Noise in the alley, rub the pork fat with oil and salt, 25 minutes at 260 celsius. Crackle on, with pale blue eyes. Do they make Clear Eyes for your third eye?

Rock and roll never seemed so appropriate. Planks of wood to build a bridge that the troll never got to get under. Under where I heard Gerald say, underwear worn for noxious, obnoxious, sockless sex. Gasmasks to think fast, tied up and fired up, Bren gun blast. My past, goodnight. I need a nurse.

Continue with your curse, the new world ain't brave enough yet. Deadset. Game and match. Forties and longnecks, love and lust. Look what happened to the dozy prats with fat stacks, they end up in lockup, with nothing but chat.

I can kind of write again.

Everybodies wearing blue jeans.

2009-12-19T03:58:00.001-08:00

Everyones got their own schemes.

I get so bored lately that I check my spam email.
And read it.
I haven't been able to write anything as of late, and if I did, it would be way too sombre to post on the Internet.

Down the road, acrostic poem not across the tracks.
You're never gonna live this down.
Even Steven and the Garbage Pail kids.

Subiaco, 11.50am

2009-12-16T19:50:00.000-08:00

Pick up your life. Remove it from the next world and place it in this one. Sub atomic particles are our friends. Infinity is merely a girls cute stare away.

How do you treat your lover?
How do you treat your haters, the fakers, the trash?
Give someone your kiss with your hand in their wallet. People are whores.
Whores make the world go quiet. If everyone was fucking, who would want to fight?
Gay people I think.
No babies.
When do you want the appointment love?
The only ones I've got are late appointments.
The sixies died, the seventies are crawling out of the grave, the eighties need a walking stick and the noone remembers the nineties.
Why can't you ever just drink your poison?

I feel nonsense in my pocket and 10 cents in my head.
I let Steve pierce my nose at the pub last night.
The funeral is tommorow.

There's so much I don't remember, and so much I wish I could forget. I don't try anymore. I just am.