Ha! I’m a fucking dinosaur. I’m all wrapped up in this cosmic gr-Ace, a blessing a cursing a fucking meteor crashing down into my skull to give way to my mammalian brothers and sister kissers and huggers, fuzzy and wuzzies and blah blah blah. Shut your mouth you fabrication. You copy cat, mopey and fat, fucking flip-haired conformist rat, buzzing bellowing brat. We’re reborn here, we’re re-horned and scorned here, instilled with this fear of death and stank old pussy breath here. Oh do my words curse you, does my flipping the bird somehow scratch the surface of your wasteland of holding hands in pretense, pressured, putrid, neatly-folded cold-nuclear household lands. Wake the fuck up, we ain’t going anywhere, we’re on this boat, behind this glorious ozone moat, gracious blue-green float, protecting your idiotic ideas and mutation manifestations on your shimmy-shaking titty-tossing engrossment of righteous ritualistic churches of cheap, chapped, recently-single enlightened Judas Jewish Christened historically Hindued boring Buddha’s mother Mohammad. You are the church, You are the savior, You are the fucking coming of the new age, the apocalypse, the new Messiah, the crowned queens and kings of crushed souls and wailing whales – fucking plastic wrapped heroes in costume. What do you think they all spoke about? What, did you think the “awakened” were the only ones awake, did you really think your eyes were somehow only meant for glancing over meager menus for the millionth meal of your week? Or hovering over words and scribbles from some other half heightened enlightened nitWit. Your selfishly trekking to new lands and new experiences in those whitened fueling spewing southwestern wing tips??? You’re not here to save the world, you’re here to fuck her good, to strap the condom on and keep your nose clean with mutant fungi prescription penicillin scripture. But fuck her good, and come back for seconds too, in case that iPhone 5 high wasn’t enough for you. But really I’m sorry, I’m sorry I had to endure this, had to come out and say this, and snap you out from patient-Earth’s weekly pap. Dr.Environmentalist Dr.Marine-Biologist, compiling facts to prove we weren’t the ones to infect Her. No, we’re the ones to save Her, to crave Her, to respect Her and then only to hang Her. I’ll be here on my high horse waiting for you with the noose too, and on arrival of your galloped Merdedes steeds, perfected with sharpened hooves to plant your millennial seeds. We’ll all take a sip of our extra sweetened high-fructose koolaid with single-serving high-density poly eurothane plastic straws, and make a promise to come back to this very spot, this very holiest of holy lands where we made our last stand, and 1,000 years from now, when the eye of the earth has been dried and rivers blood-shot, our visine-ordered victory will have proven obsolete, and we’ll dig up those cast-away single-serving high-density straws and build a monument in His honor anyway, in His image, in His body, to ensure His wretched gnarling feared form will last another 10,000 years.

But you know Fuck it, we’ll probably make a movie out of it someday too.


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