AND IN THE STILLNESS, THE DANZIG
I've just stumbled across some portion of the internet that has made my blood boil. Is this what passes for journalism and social commentary these days? I can't make head or tail of some these so called 'scoops'. Exactly what is a 'childs'? I simply don't understand what is entertaining about Jeff Probst for example. BLAH BLAH BLAH.
"SUCKED IN MOTHERFUCKER, I PUNCHED OUT YOUR WIFE AND BOUGHT A T-SHIRT"
Holla.
So I got shat out of the Windmill (LET'S NOT GO INTO IT), since then I've been holidaying all over the shop, took in a film or two, bought probably 2,000 Pears, attended a Seminar, and now I feel it's time to return to the field of Journalism. The thing is there was a brief 'Dietary Crisis', which I resolved by simply eating the entire works of Frenchman Albert Camus.
'In the depths of Winter, I discovered there lay within me fuck all calories'
Let's talk more about this:
WHAT I DID ON MY HOLIDAYS
A metaphorical journey into the past
1. Skiing
I got the biggest season pass ever, Wisdom of Salomon, that kind of thing. The reason I went was pretty simple --> it seemed like a good idea at the time. Luckily, it was.
"I'LL BET, I FUCKING WISH IT WAS SNOWING RIGHT NOW, IN MY HOUSE"
Why don't you think things through before you say them. Skiing is pretty good, let's not ruin it with stupidity.
2. Looked a Gift Horse in the Mouth
It had without a doubt the shittest teeth ever. I'm fucking glad I looked and didn't listen to Sayings.
3. Won an International Florist Award
The deal with this was, just plant heaps of seedlings and use floristry skills to turn them into magnificent specimens. Call me a sissy if you want, I'll just shrug it off. I've been down with floristry since way back in the day, before it became cool. Nowadays it's everywhere but I still do it, because I love it.
"SHIT BRO, YOU AREN'T PLAYING"
You know it. Now if you'll excuse me I need to work on a Draft Proposal. That shit isn't going to write itself, unless my House is fucked from haunting.
"SUCKED IN MOTHERFUCKER, I PUNCHED OUT YOUR WIFE AND BOUGHT A T-SHIRT"
Holla.
So I got shat out of the Windmill (LET'S NOT GO INTO IT), since then I've been holidaying all over the shop, took in a film or two, bought probably 2,000 Pears, attended a Seminar, and now I feel it's time to return to the field of Journalism. The thing is there was a brief 'Dietary Crisis', which I resolved by simply eating the entire works of Frenchman Albert Camus.
'In the depths of Winter, I discovered there lay within me fuck all calories'
Let's talk more about this:
WHAT I DID ON MY HOLIDAYS
A metaphorical journey into the past
1. Skiing
I got the biggest season pass ever, Wisdom of Salomon, that kind of thing. The reason I went was pretty simple --> it seemed like a good idea at the time. Luckily, it was.
"I'LL BET, I FUCKING WISH IT WAS SNOWING RIGHT NOW, IN MY HOUSE"
Why don't you think things through before you say them. Skiing is pretty good, let's not ruin it with stupidity.
2. Looked a Gift Horse in the Mouth
It had without a doubt the shittest teeth ever. I'm fucking glad I looked and didn't listen to Sayings.
3. Won an International Florist Award
The deal with this was, just plant heaps of seedlings and use floristry skills to turn them into magnificent specimens. Call me a sissy if you want, I'll just shrug it off. I've been down with floristry since way back in the day, before it became cool. Nowadays it's everywhere but I still do it, because I love it.
"SHIT BRO, YOU AREN'T PLAYING"
You know it. Now if you'll excuse me I need to work on a Draft Proposal. That shit isn't going to write itself, unless my House is fucked from haunting.
8 Comments:
Holy. Shit. Surely these pixels deceive me.
Hi to tha motherfucking atus.
I for one am totally stoked that there is still one human being on the interwebs with the cojones to speak truth to power and shit.
Dear Mr B E W & F,
Where did the quote at the top come from? I've got some lads that are sorely waiting to go to some chicks house and break, like, all her 13th century Ming Vases in retribution.
I was pretty much weeping with tears for a while there.
Welcome homo, young man.
So now the only difference between you and John Farnham is that we're glad that you are back.
Sorry to hear about the Windmill. Still, a haunted house can be fun - just watch out for the Meddling Kids.
I never liked windmills anyway.
Way too quixotic.
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