In the last
two movies I have seen, Prometheus (2012)
and Cloud Atlas (2012), two baddies
have been trying to steal important necklaces from the goodies’ necks. One was
a crucifix, I’m not sure about the other. But they both represented faith in
abundance. The guilty parties were Tom Hanks and Michael Fassbender (gender
bender, ass bender). Not content with seeing their oppressed in pain, they
wanted to see them stripped of their personal beliefs. Taking someone’s chain,
when they are pinned to their deathbed, is a c*nt’s trick! I couldn’t believe
how sinister it was the way that came across! Some people just hate faith. They
don’t want you to have it. I believe it’s because they are jealous of God’s
special connection with his followers. It cannot be taken, however, as it lies
within the heart. Crosses and pendants and crucifixes are mere symbols,
although highly important. You wouldn’t want an oppressor taking one away from
you, would you?
A question
here. Would you, given the option, at gun point, rather be a zombie or
hyperactive? My boy Lee the Badger tried Spice in prison, and said it made him
into a zombie. He said his head was falling down his back, his whole body was
curling up backwards, and he was metamorphosing into a tarantula. He said he
had to say a quick prayer for God to save him from the terrible misfortunate series
of events that were becoming upon him simply by taking a pipe of spice. I know
of people puking up and collapsing off that crap. Then there’s my boy Andy.
Andy is in a band. He was coked up in the pub the other day and his head was
twitching like a bird’s. He was so hypo, eyes everywhere, p’d up to the max
(paranoid). In his defence, he says that he cleans the toilets in an effort to
come down from the previous night’s gig. Doing something mundane helps ease him
back to reality. What state would you choose to be in, if you had to be in one
of them? Zombie or hyper? It’s a tough decision, take your time thinking about
it.
Now we come to my boy Simon. Simon is a drunk who readily admits that his demon is alcohol. He said that he ordered a blow-up doll from online last week. It’s what I call a paraplegic doll, as it has no arms , no legs, and no head. No head! Funnily, he said it got delivered to his parents’ address. He has still to pick it up. I have images in my head of what he might do with it which I cannot erase. I can just see him naked on top of this paraplegic headless doll humping away like a dog At Uncle Nobhead’s leg! What possessed him to buy the thing? Strangely enough, he only opened up about the purchase because I told him about my crippling porn addiction. I thought I would meet him in the middle and he went and leapfrogged ahead of me with inklings of such a ghastly deed! Sex with something headless, strewth! I've never heard of anything so sick. Rubber up!
