Friday, 3 September 2010


Some times I want that juicy, thick, bloody rare steak and the rich ruby red wine. I want it bad. I’ll pop the pill for it, gimme the pill! What was it Rib eye, Sirloin, anyway it was a feast to my starving eye and the wine? I hope it was an Aussie Shiraz. I’ll sell my soul for dead cow and fermented vegetable matter. Some times.

When you catch sight of this you do wonder.


You do wonder if the remainders of humanity are not sheep, but trained dogs. Whelping and pining for their master’s attention. Eager to do the bidding, whatever it is, when the whistle goes. Kenneled and drugged.

In the 60s the whistle blew and the slob pups jumped. Now though there is no one picketing embassies or stoning consular cars. You can fuck over your populace all you like. The elastane burners and the protest marchers don’t care. Only if Jedward happen to live next door to your official residence in London do you get MSM attention. Is that humanity in a state of nature or prison?

We have surrendered our freedom for rights and the rights can be removed overnight by might.

How much thought is distracted from the task at hand by fripperies and inconsequential industry? How much mind meld went into this? That should just about give the thought police here a heart attack as they slowly bring NOAHide rule to UK plc by banning smoking, alcohol, meat and anything else that might keep us awake and aware of who’s pulling the strings.

Seriously; William, I don’t care if you’ve got a pilot light fitted and you and your mate take turns at blowing gerbils across the room by the power of your own digestive gases and lower intestines. I don’t care. Just stop kow towing to the Rothschild Corporate Entity operating out of Tel Aviv. And if you are even thinking of sending any of our lads out to the Peninsula again because the police action never stopped, you’ll be getting rocks mate. And it will be no more smoking gerbils for you.

Oh shit. Forget the pill. I’ll forgo that succulent steak and the heady wine once again.