LIVE WELL, LOVE MUCH, LAUGH OFTEN !
SUFFER, HATE, SCOWL!
LIVE WELL, LOVE MUCH, LAUGH OFTEN ! Coming home from work this phrase tore through the paper thin membrane separating the dross of life from the ponderous inner sanctum.
I had walked back along the footpath to re-read and commit to memory the lofty advice. As I was walking to the bus, I gave the philosophy its due consideration.
Truly, a life embodying those principles would result in a worthy person, touching those around them like a whisk of angel's wing feather brushing ones cheek. Beautiful, subtle yet deeply profound.
LIVE WELL, LOVE MUCH, LAUGH OFTEN ! This day like any other I whored my brain wishing I had whored my body. Sure the latter sucks (or rather you suck) but the pay is better than the former. Dragging my feet on the dirty spittle and chewing gum strewn pavement of this hole of a provincial town heading to my dormitory hovel. Hatching my next casual, senseless act of un-necessary violence, this idiotic slogan sprung into my vision, temporarily disrupting my lecherous admiration of the tight arse of the underdressed girl pedestrian in my field of vision. I did a double take. What fucktard thought this little gem up? Fucking Prozac addicted, priviliged, sociopathic virgin, little doubt.
So, I begun to consider, recent developments in my life, through this casual yet profound gem of philosophy. Thrust into my life like a seashore beacon to a lost vessel at sea. Take for example the fact that I am walking to and from work.
A blessing indeed. My vehicle stationary at the lights was struck by a ricoche car, spun off like a whirling missile of destruction from a high speed colision in the midst of the intersection. What luck there were no fatalities. Had it not been for that fortuous event, I would be driving to work, rather than walk. A true blessing! We do not exercise enough.
Dark clouds begun to gather under my skull, the merely dark and overcast menace of a storm bursting into a swirling tropical depression. What imbecillic turd would come up with inane prattle like that? Take the fact that my car was written off by a tard who ought have not to make it through childhood, much less puberty and live to the age whereupon his palm was large enough to fish out a driving licence from a box of cornflakes? Curses upon his house! Bring back the sabre-toothed tigers I say, release them upon the streets to cull the slow witted and infirm.
Each morning as I walk I have an opportunity to reflect on the beauty of life. Ordinarly passing by, rushing in a vehicle from one unimportant thing to another, in the big scheme of life equally unimportant matter. Unable to feel the warm rays of the sun, the gentle caress of zephyr cooling my skin. Even the insects, buzzing around me sing a triumphant symphony of life. Though mere blow flies, still an important element of our ecology, turning decay into rebirth, death into life. A reminder that everything in life is but a mere cog in the wonderfuly complex mechanism of grand mystery of life. Pass not judgement on one small part least you denounce the entire magical schema.
FUCK! Fuck fuck fuck! I fucking hate it. Walking up and down this forlorn road, the only fucking pedestrian on the rundown sidewalk. How fucking prophetic. A roadkill in the rat race. Sweating like a fucking pig, inhaling the disel fumes from the fucking planet raping 4WD driven by ignorant bimbos whose only accomplishement in life is that they can suck cock well enough so that some accountant or a real estate agent or some such parasitic life form marries them. And the fucking flies! Take a fucking number! I will be dead soon enough. Fucking flying little winged maggots. Belzeebubs little children, trying to get into my every unexposed orfice, me flayling my limbs like a fucking spastic. Makes me wanna take up entymology and nail the little fuckers to a board with needles and watch them die.
Speaking of magical schemas, our wise ruler, the honorable John Howard is passing the anti-terror laws to protect us from the freedom hating evildoers. A wonderful coincidence that at the same time the laws are to pass through the parliament, the ASIO releases a report stating that evil muslims lurk under every prayer rug in our community. Sometimes thigs do happen by accident. Whatever the silly, uninformed protestation of the terrorist loving minorities, it takes a man of backbone, vision and fortitude to secure our future. Civil liberties is a luxury in times of war.
Let it not be said that the man is not reasonable, he has backed away from the shoot-to-kill provisions of the suspects. We will be victorious in the war on terror only though the determination of men like Howard. Howard and the unknown US marine saying on the radio that "...they certainly make an impact on the lives of the Iraqi people.". His job, distributing water to schools through the US water trucks. I am heartened, with men like these the causes of terror will be eliminated. Where they deal out death, we deal out life. Where they deal out despair, we deal out hope. We shall prevail.
Fucking lunatics! Thousands of aussies die in Australia due to inadequate medical attention, road accidents kill thousands a year, fucking lightning has more chance of killing you than some fucking mad towelhead. Made mad by a video footage of a US tank machine gunning a fleeing Iraqi family car, daddy, mummy, kiddies, granny and the whole fucking blood splattered circuis. Had our own media been allowed to show what attrocities we commit in the name of 'War on terror', our own placid civilians would start blowing shit up. But hey, since when did you see an opportunistic politician pass up a chance to suck more taxes from the people while at the same time enslaving the nation more. Hello ubiqutous surveilance, goodbye illusion of fucking freedom. Backing away from 'shoot-to-kill' provisions, pigs arse! Relegating the provisions to state authorities means a return to the 'shot while trying to escape' cliche of the bad 1930 police shows.
Fucking US marine saying on the radio '... they make impact on people of Iraq'. Sure do, as the round tear through the flesh. Drop a bomb on a fucking village house and call the smoking bloody ruin a terrorist compound. There sure as fuck wont be anyone left alive to argue to the contrary. Delivering water to the school kiddies. How fucking noble. Had the US planes not targetted the water and power plants as priority targets during the war, there would be no need for this sacrafice. Maybe we ought to stop fucking bombing innocent civilians and raping the allaged 'evildoers' rather then to tighten the chain around our own neck to win this 'Terror war'. What the fuck do I know? I am only a pissant, (nominaly) working poor.
Given the two sides of the coin one LIVE WELL, LOVE MUCH, LAUGH OFTEN
and the other SUFFER, HATE, SCOWL!
I think I will do well and choose my own motto.
Somewhere in the middle. Safe.
LIVE, TOLERATE, SMIRK.
Thats what would Jesus do. But that is another fucking story.
LIVE WELL, LOVE MUCH, LAUGH OFTEN ! Coming home from work this phrase tore through the paper thin membrane separating the dross of life from the ponderous inner sanctum.
I had walked back along the footpath to re-read and commit to memory the lofty advice. As I was walking to the bus, I gave the philosophy its due consideration.
Truly, a life embodying those principles would result in a worthy person, touching those around them like a whisk of angel's wing feather brushing ones cheek. Beautiful, subtle yet deeply profound.
LIVE WELL, LOVE MUCH, LAUGH OFTEN ! This day like any other I whored my brain wishing I had whored my body. Sure the latter sucks (or rather you suck) but the pay is better than the former. Dragging my feet on the dirty spittle and chewing gum strewn pavement of this hole of a provincial town heading to my dormitory hovel. Hatching my next casual, senseless act of un-necessary violence, this idiotic slogan sprung into my vision, temporarily disrupting my lecherous admiration of the tight arse of the underdressed girl pedestrian in my field of vision. I did a double take. What fucktard thought this little gem up? Fucking Prozac addicted, priviliged, sociopathic virgin, little doubt.
So, I begun to consider, recent developments in my life, through this casual yet profound gem of philosophy. Thrust into my life like a seashore beacon to a lost vessel at sea. Take for example the fact that I am walking to and from work.
A blessing indeed. My vehicle stationary at the lights was struck by a ricoche car, spun off like a whirling missile of destruction from a high speed colision in the midst of the intersection. What luck there were no fatalities. Had it not been for that fortuous event, I would be driving to work, rather than walk. A true blessing! We do not exercise enough.
Dark clouds begun to gather under my skull, the merely dark and overcast menace of a storm bursting into a swirling tropical depression. What imbecillic turd would come up with inane prattle like that? Take the fact that my car was written off by a tard who ought have not to make it through childhood, much less puberty and live to the age whereupon his palm was large enough to fish out a driving licence from a box of cornflakes? Curses upon his house! Bring back the sabre-toothed tigers I say, release them upon the streets to cull the slow witted and infirm.
Each morning as I walk I have an opportunity to reflect on the beauty of life. Ordinarly passing by, rushing in a vehicle from one unimportant thing to another, in the big scheme of life equally unimportant matter. Unable to feel the warm rays of the sun, the gentle caress of zephyr cooling my skin. Even the insects, buzzing around me sing a triumphant symphony of life. Though mere blow flies, still an important element of our ecology, turning decay into rebirth, death into life. A reminder that everything in life is but a mere cog in the wonderfuly complex mechanism of grand mystery of life. Pass not judgement on one small part least you denounce the entire magical schema.
FUCK! Fuck fuck fuck! I fucking hate it. Walking up and down this forlorn road, the only fucking pedestrian on the rundown sidewalk. How fucking prophetic. A roadkill in the rat race. Sweating like a fucking pig, inhaling the disel fumes from the fucking planet raping 4WD driven by ignorant bimbos whose only accomplishement in life is that they can suck cock well enough so that some accountant or a real estate agent or some such parasitic life form marries them. And the fucking flies! Take a fucking number! I will be dead soon enough. Fucking flying little winged maggots. Belzeebubs little children, trying to get into my every unexposed orfice, me flayling my limbs like a fucking spastic. Makes me wanna take up entymology and nail the little fuckers to a board with needles and watch them die.
Speaking of magical schemas, our wise ruler, the honorable John Howard is passing the anti-terror laws to protect us from the freedom hating evildoers. A wonderful coincidence that at the same time the laws are to pass through the parliament, the ASIO releases a report stating that evil muslims lurk under every prayer rug in our community. Sometimes thigs do happen by accident. Whatever the silly, uninformed protestation of the terrorist loving minorities, it takes a man of backbone, vision and fortitude to secure our future. Civil liberties is a luxury in times of war.
Let it not be said that the man is not reasonable, he has backed away from the shoot-to-kill provisions of the suspects. We will be victorious in the war on terror only though the determination of men like Howard. Howard and the unknown US marine saying on the radio that "...they certainly make an impact on the lives of the Iraqi people.". His job, distributing water to schools through the US water trucks. I am heartened, with men like these the causes of terror will be eliminated. Where they deal out death, we deal out life. Where they deal out despair, we deal out hope. We shall prevail.
Fucking lunatics! Thousands of aussies die in Australia due to inadequate medical attention, road accidents kill thousands a year, fucking lightning has more chance of killing you than some fucking mad towelhead. Made mad by a video footage of a US tank machine gunning a fleeing Iraqi family car, daddy, mummy, kiddies, granny and the whole fucking blood splattered circuis. Had our own media been allowed to show what attrocities we commit in the name of 'War on terror', our own placid civilians would start blowing shit up. But hey, since when did you see an opportunistic politician pass up a chance to suck more taxes from the people while at the same time enslaving the nation more. Hello ubiqutous surveilance, goodbye illusion of fucking freedom. Backing away from 'shoot-to-kill' provisions, pigs arse! Relegating the provisions to state authorities means a return to the 'shot while trying to escape' cliche of the bad 1930 police shows.
Fucking US marine saying on the radio '... they make impact on people of Iraq'. Sure do, as the round tear through the flesh. Drop a bomb on a fucking village house and call the smoking bloody ruin a terrorist compound. There sure as fuck wont be anyone left alive to argue to the contrary. Delivering water to the school kiddies. How fucking noble. Had the US planes not targetted the water and power plants as priority targets during the war, there would be no need for this sacrafice. Maybe we ought to stop fucking bombing innocent civilians and raping the allaged 'evildoers' rather then to tighten the chain around our own neck to win this 'Terror war'. What the fuck do I know? I am only a pissant, (nominaly) working poor.
Given the two sides of the coin one LIVE WELL, LOVE MUCH, LAUGH OFTEN
and the other SUFFER, HATE, SCOWL!
I think I will do well and choose my own motto.
Somewhere in the middle. Safe.
LIVE, TOLERATE, SMIRK.
Thats what would Jesus do. But that is another fucking story.
posted by Wulfy | 11:47 PM
|
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