Ok…sooooooo……

Soooo…. Officially I listened to Deicide and had a nightmare. Nightmare to play too, in a technical sense. Man… like brexit….. nobody…yeah then Covid..symbolic of how shit we are that we are forced to wear masks…all there is on the front pages is how A Prince has sexual relations … I mean maybe he just fancied a bit. Be as outraged as you want, inferior, and ignore the notion that we are sliding into war. England. At War. Fuck, look at the ….state of it. And we’re giving Billy big bollocks, officially sending ground troops to the region. Yeah typical, send the …fucking…. Entire army if we have one, and either of our outdated ships…and then get invaded by Scotland on the sly. Can anyone guess why 666 SAS have already done their job…they probably see it as duty because it is or was. 333 male, 333 women, mission liberation of freedom. Liberation of freedom of liberation of freedom.

And then…uh the environment? In 23 years Ipswich will be predominantly under water. Unlucky for Ipswich, as Norwich laugh. Sometimes I wish I was still there. Heaven? Huh. What was the name of that club? Yeah Fat Pauly’s. Legend. The Bank, NR1. Miss it. And her. The way The Galaxy misses terra , not Earth.

To quote Rakim, what was once easy became confused and hard. We started dying and sinning. Maybe now what was once hard is now simply impossible for all but…. Things don’t have to die? I know it’s so weird. Why is there death? Outside of Earth it seems absurd, but that’s probably…. Like galaxies don’t have Endgame. You know who you are. Ever consider a galaxy turning up at a near neighbour looking rough as a badgers, stammering, getting it together to ask for a cup of sugar, before a Breakdown?

In other news, I hear Beck is confident about cutting an album in a couple of months. Easy for him, word is it’s writing itself like in Robot Wars, like it’s got a SRIMEC.

Peace to bigandromeda

Author: Roger Francis AKA littleandromeda.com Android

Musician, Artist, Writer. Telepath. Psychic. Schizophrenic. Auteur. Cat Lover. Cheap, Seedy Quality. Undiagnosed For The Truest State. Happy. Free. Poor. Weird. Eccentric. Single. R. That’s R Hippy, in a PICU

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