Monday, September 02, 2013

The Great American Rip Off.

Warning – the following anecdote contains offensive material. As usual it is complete utter nonsense, has no intention to insult individuals or race, or tramps, or tribes. It is neither a reflection of my own ‘Rebel without a cause’, ideology nor what I look at in the mirror each morning because that is hell.

You want to be a paperback writer? Read this first.  I will tell you about 33 American %.

I have had it up to here with them. They are thieving swine. If I, for example, write three words in a book such as - ‘Bomb the bastards’, and you, the paying customer, cough up your hard earned dosh to read it – I get shafted and the Yanks thieve the word ‘Bomb’. Or ‘Bastards’, because it is highly unlikely they steal ‘the’, because at three letters thy might think they are getting short changed.

Then – with MY money, they buy some serious fancy, self flying artificial intelligence missiles that have been brainwashed to bomb bastards. I am sick of it. What’s the latest ‘joy ride’- Oh, some hell hole, permanently baked by the sun, that charges the equivalent of a brand new Ferrari for a pint of beer, and now they all decide either the car or the beer costs too much, and they hack each other up. Better than living in peace with each other. Rather die in pieces. Hey!

And not only that, do I care? I mean, half of them run around saying they are all Shite and the other lot claim they all just want to live in the Shire – even though they aren’t hobbits, nor have hairy feet – just some serious hard core hairy times killing each other.

I mean what kind of conversation do they have with each other ‘ Hi my Muslim brother, are you totally Shite or are from the Shire?’ Depending on the answer, if you get it wrong - you get hacked up whilst both scream the praises of some deity. Weird stuff.

Next door, across the Gonad’s heights, they are just as bad. There they wander about asking if you are ‘Askanasty’ or… ‘Orforafox’. The one lot claim they are progressive, the other claim to be stuck in time. They haven’t a clue if they are coming or going, but, as long as there are bombs – everything will sort itself out. (Reminds me of the Battle of the Somme. Just about sums it up.)

But when it comes to bombing Syria - I have my own beef about this because – the Yanks are getting on my nerves and it isn’t funny gas I am taking.

I am taking this personally now. The thieving robbers are having a merry time taking a third of my earnings (illegally) pop it into a cruise missile and intend to fire it off at loads of people who simply really want to just have a shit in peace or pieces and maybe in the Shire. Nuts, I tell you. I mean, if, and a big if, they painted my logo on the side and trailed a flag behind announcing, ‘Buy The Gokwe Kid, now available on Amazon. You have twenty seconds to order and read before this missile tears your, arms, legs and head off. We come in Peace.’ Well, maybe I am getting my monies worth.

But, hah-hah, a big but. Uncle Sam, who always has some deranged plan, will let you off if you sort of do some paperwork. Forget that the snoopers know you watch porn at least twice  a week. Oh no, if you can prove that you are not a Yank, live elsewhere and quite frankly can’t stand the bombing bastards – there is way to maybe, just maybe, stop them stealing your money.

Now, my budding writers, here is a link. This link will make you want to hang yourself. Don’t even bother clicking it on if you have no desire to write and bomb people. I do not blame you. Imagine our ‘good old days’. The Rhodesian government says to you –

‘Hey china, bomb two Gooks for free, the third one you pay.’ Huh! Does this make sense.

Ranting and raving- always keep postings to small chunks. I not only know this, I advocate it. I would for a moment get off my high horse but unfortunately the critter fell over stoned and I was forced to crawl out under the stupid incoherent nagging neighing thing.

So, finally, in summary, for me to stop the Yanks bombing bastards at a third of MY time; I have to start by phoning Philadelphia. Sorry. What for? The only thing I know about that place is that they shot deers, got an Oscar - made people thin with some terrible germs you pick up via your anal orifice (and got an Oscar) and if you chew a piece of biltong, pretend you’re of Italian descent, stagger around getting the bejesus beaten out of you, and, yes you guessed it -you get an Oscar. And I must phone this place of freaks to ask for my money?

It gets worse. Loads of letters backwards and forwards (I am starting to get bored writing this), your passport lands up in…TEXAS. That’s the place where they chain saw people and then fry ‘em on a stool with a sponge on their head. And, this takes weeks and weeks. They take more time processing a simple tax exemption request than bombing and frying people. Ah, America - home of the free.


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