Gone bits of Them Brainz... ... a grainy, 8mm document of the horrors that lurk down the unlit alleyways of existence... A non-stop cavalcade of impotent rage and existential misery... take this filth down... Have you ever tried to make a CD case look like a box of condoms?... outlaw fantasies for teenage boys... Silly cunts... cobbled together with rusty flecks of metal and sticky tape... ageing, gnarly irrelevance... "cucumbers"... sandpaper and egg whisks... jism that occasionally dribbles through the cracks between my bony, wanking fingers... I can hear this shit anywhere... our words have all the emotional clout of Morse code... trite, reasonable wank... stinking, bottomless well of contempt... As for any other inaccuracies, I offer no explanation and you can go and fucking whistle... With name-badges on... "I cannot, man, for I am locked in the throes of ecstasy!"... You can understand my excitement, I'm sure... Tape was MINE... rounder, flatter... and strangely brittle with it... grinding up against some precocious young fawn... or whatever else tickled my fancy that night... slack-jawed goons... we don't have to look at the ugly bastards... dark, gaping spaces... you'll only recognise them with the aid of fingerprints and dental records... forged in the very bowels of Hell... in two years I should be dead... Please believe me when I say that I am truly sorry... Even in the season of goodwill, bad philosophy has always been punishable by death... like a comedy of the grotesque... I'm big enough to admit that... But first, a disclaimer: I'm not black... a situation which, frankly, I think is bollocks... I was promised magic... Everything was shit!... set it on fire without accelerant, and watch it slowly burn until it was no more than a charred corpse and a faint death rattle... it's an oasis of beauty in a desert of rage and lunacy... In short, it sounds like a school concert... where human beings become so much meat... ... where those who dare to venture outside get bundled into the backs of vans and hauled off to padded cells... I swear I'm going to kill the next person who does that with me... Never you mind how - you don't want to know... JESUS! You WANKERS! I HATE YOU!... fuckwit upstarts... fun for you is staring deep into the eyes of an ugly painting of your own hideous self... you can feel your whole world collapsing in on itself and the words 'social pariah' etching themselves into your forehead... You should see a doctor... Spend your money on something more satisfying and meaningful, like drugs or porn... an amorphous, quivering mess of black lines and blasphemy... 'potato' or 'sofa'... I think that's a sufficiently polite way of saying, "warmongering"... Just whose side are you on, anyway?... Fuck you, knobcock... consider it, savour it, roll it around your tongue, and see it in all its decaying, virulent, pus-ridden glory... pop a cap in my white ass... make me want to thrust my fist into my own skull, yank out my brain and rub sand into it... Unfortunately for you, I'm a careful, defensive driver... I was a deeply unpleasant person... dull, witless cock-waving... mush-mouthed void... what a miserable, insignificant worm I am... I'm not their frigging parents, am I?... Me, I'm a hard-left libertarian... I've been unable to speak since I tore out my larynx... Jesus, let me feel the hot cock of your forgiveness now... sex, death and the Bible... good Christians can, at last, enjoy anal sex, BDSM, pornography and fisting... from Pol Pot to Holly Johnson... things take a turn for the sleazy... a frenzied, sweating mass of naked teenage flesh... This gonna be a good night, dawg!... miserable, spoiled, socially inadequate teenagers... grinding their sweaty bodies together... sexy, thrusting... eyes bulging out of their sockets... flung face-first into the wall and pounded like prison bitches... CREAMING YOUR FUCKING PANTS... BLOOD, SWEAT, TEARS and JISM... That's it, I'm spent... the salty odour of dried semen... that crushing sense of disappointment... they had to be destroyed inhumanely... crush the West... my girlfriend doesn't like it... the guns, the cars, the ice, the bitches... the cesspool of my conceit... the sexual prowess of a pumped-up roidhead... This is what happens to gays in 2003... a curiously insulting kind of homage... conver-fucking-sation... Mindless drivel... wank psychobabble... C*ke adverts... a big, hollow, stupefying billboard... it's like Venus setting fire to your ears with her tongue... Mathematicians attempted to disprove this theory, but with little success... Naturally, I was right... it would've been impractical to take an LP into school... soul-crushing, Sisyphean absurdity... I owe my 16-year-old self an apology... You facetious twat... These days the kids are digging crack beatz and such that just goes, "Yeah / Get down / Wooh! / Get down! / Yeah!"... dance, monkey boy! dance!... SCRATCH your face until it BLEEDS!... Where the fuck was I?... a runaway train full of tortured souls... they had stolen his daughter's glans... Believe it, whore... you are, in fact, aware that they're fucking in your kitchen... DEATH TO THE INFIDELS!... those who went to see The Cheesecake Brothers rarely lived to tell the tale... pre-pubescent students... not so much misunderstood as firebombed on a weekly basis by angry locals... What the fucking hell was wrong with you people?... if I catch any motherfucker slagging them off, I'll come to their house and... "LUV U 4EVA"... Everyone loves a twat!... a mischievous travelling starfish... an unwashed, bearded malcontent... stabbed in the arse... Perhaps he'd talk in beeps and glitches... If we're lucky, someone will fish him out tomorrow morning with one of those big nets... I reckon that's a thought worth keeping in your knapsack, traveller... I know this isn't healthy... Most of my adult life has been peppered with near-achievements... Look, TWATS... I have no idea how to bring this to a conclusion... "come home - stop - mother dead - stop"... The bloke who wrote it appears to be evil... Once again the internet stops trying to sell us ringtone porn and actually does its fucking job... give me a crown, fix me a cold G&T and call me Lord... A toast!... I thank you for your indulgence...