Random Boo Archives:

God’s Jury

Its the Torturing Reminiscence on a past of divorced reaction
Awakens surging regret that beams Reflections in fraction
No follow Fascist Religion and I’m anarchist to Government
But the Cross that consorts fear casts a doubt on my judgement
With believe hostility aside along with my loathing of mankind
I am inpart apprehensive of What God’s jury will find?

Silly Cats Smoke Pipes

Exclamation of contempt occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern. This is the home to self-eradicating gluttony and feigned psychological-gratification. Get some red plonk, cigarettes, and some cake and succumb yourself to the fabricated sensations of pleasure galore. Don’t squander thoughts on hangovers, diets, and personal hygiene. Spend your days instead intoxicated and aggressive. Then die young of an overdose in a hotel room surrounded by prostitutes, in a poetic symphony of self-pity and artistic contempt. Label every man, woman, and child a parasitic monkey, shout "how dare you", spit out your fag in disgust, "Good day sir!" and slam a door!