Beware the sound is yours in 1984 – but can you?

Beware the sound is yours in 1984 – but can you?

Can you dance on a razor blade without getting your feet cut to pieces?

Can you still stagger around after being stabbed in the back by your employer?

Can you acknowledge that before committing suicide your toilet must be spotless to save embarrassment?

Can you rely that your best friend will not kick you to death because the 15 grand he lent you and you spunked in an hour in a casino and impossible to pay back?

Can you ask a woman if shooting your sperm deep inside her could inseminate her even though she stopped menstruating 10 years ago?

Can you ask the Pope which of his Nuns are the best shag?

Can you steal a condom and use it on your mother to make you a mother fucker?

Can you actually stay being a member of the Facebook site – The Gokwe Kid as
Its owner is obviously extremely disturbed in the head?

Reading an illusion

Reading an illusion -

The short life of Perceval Montgomery, the third Earl of Kent.

At school he always pulled the short straw and had to use a chain saw to remove his own legs in a bet he lost.

Stuck to a wheel chair for the rest of his pathetic life, he dreamed of having sex and would masturbate so much, he was permanently stuck in his wheel chair.

By the time he was 16, his alcoholic mother on her last visit to Eaton boarding school, bludgeoned him to death with a cricket bat whilst screaming  ‘Hows Zat’.

After having sex with the Headboy, giving the boy a lot of head, she jumped out the window from five stories up and died.

Perceval Montgomery’s father was hung in Tehran in 2019 after being accused as being a spy when caught fucking a donkey.

Such a tragic story.

The End.

Philosophy for the masses

Experimenting with erotic writing -

Can I cuddle your bum and hold a breast as I sleep?

Can I scrape the dog shit from the soles of your shoes?

Can I swing your cat by the tail and fuck it out the closed window, making its head explode as it exists through jagged shards of glass?

Fifty Shades of Insanity – Not sure who wrote it, but it had rave reviews on Amazon. At least 132. Most I wrote. All in fact.

This one the best –‘Dystopia’  – the place of the new Millennium where the clash of so called ‘civilisations’ is based on ideology and fanatical religious concept of some superior being backing one side or the other.

The ones with the best weapons and technology wins. Hence - God is on their side.

The self-destruction of mankind was imminent ever since its desire to prove ‘We fuck, therefore we are’

Overload the planet with so many children that most of them live in a living hell. No need to predict the future – it is already here. No need for nuclear self-destruction. The pale blue dot in the cosmos will go the same way as Mars.  

But at least we know that.

Back to erotic writing. Ermm. Okay. I met this tart, and when I fondled her arse, it made her fart.

I must really work on this topic.
Hmm – must rethink this. Does not sound very erotic.

And then - I can take you away

with words - take you to magical places of violence and drunken debauchery where the only people that die is the imagination I planted there.

The End

Time is up?

Time is up?

You are walking across a bridge. Below it is an angry torrent of water, brown from sewage, bubbling nicely, floating dead herrings on its froth – soon to become kippers to be sold at Tescos - when suddenly, the bridge collapses.

You are drowning- the rubble is crushing you, the water is so filthy, you vomit with your last dying breath.

Meanwhile, thousands of kilometres away some complete knob jockey pushes a button and 176 people die.

What does this have in common? 

Fuck all – besides death.