OK. I’m addicted to Coke.

But only the soft drink variety. Soz! But my habit is large enough to attract attention, so I was taken to account this afternoon and u would have thought it was the real thing sometimes, but there was a sense of coolness throughout my collar being felt. I need it to keep going, it’s a mood stabiliser, kinda, whatever, I like coke. I like the sugar rush and caffeine buzz 🐝 but I don’t know why I was made to feel like the worlds only coke addict. Man, I can feel my teeth dissolving. If you ever see me in a bad mood, maybe offer a coke then everything will be ok, just for a while.

I am up all night two out of three nights now, then I crash and wake up at a healthy 5PM. I’m recording again, not being able to express myself thru painting at the moment. I tried Water Colours, man, it was like Jimi Hendrix attempting to play the Sitar, as legend has it. What happened? He was rubbish. Yup.

Man, it feels like a man has to justify his life in modernity. Justify his existence, so what if nobody understands quite why we’re here, or what happens before or after our pitiful ish human ing time. We’re lucky if we are given one chance to make it, one chance to make it big, and, well man, we’d better be on it, we’ve only got one chance for fame. Or so we think. The noted professor Hetfield, J. claims Advantages are Taken, not handed out. Well shucks. Maybe if you live your life always looking for opportunities, you’d be so stressed, u wouldn’t enjoy anything and u couldn’t relax.

I, for one, have seen a litany of chances, opportunities, and suchlike pass me by, but the ones that are foremost in my troubled, addled, occipitally challenged little giant mind are the ones in which I failed to Score, either with Girls or sometimes in football. Scoring? It’s true, I’m rarely so…coarse. The item? Is held in modern life too, women are weird because if a man doesn’t take every chance to sex up a lady he must be Gay, some think. No matter what.

Fuck. I’m fucking lost here. Just sitting here…it’s like a comedown. Watching shit tv , though the tv would surely be safe from any violent advances if things got that far. I’m going nowhere. I’ve got a home I can’t go to, I have ballerinas ankles and I’m sitting around getting old. Also I’m wearing a wife beater, but that is of little import.

My next move could be up Pompey way. By The Way. Near the sea, loads of like minded people, who knows, anyway gotta go.

oh, I injected heroin in a dream.


later, y’all, R


Shock Therapy For Tea

Howdy. So I’m in a zone where I can at last express my feelings towards my numerous issues. Yeah, I’m around people who have their own issues which conflict with mine sometimes, but I tread a righteous path and the shine people have when they come in, the glow…if it’s caused by drugs then after a few days they slow down, then come down in an environment which seems ideal to come down in. Yep, they ‘still on e, spreading disease, get quarantined, free tea, would you believe.

Friends here come and go, like basic mankind, there have been really all colours of the rainbow 🌈 some people are users and abusers, just….real shit. That’s how I get down. Some people are fucking snakes and like have an internal radar for the vulnerable, some latch on, detecting kindness which they exploit until forcefully separated. Some real shit. Pokemon, poems and pictures help me pass the time, without forgetting the beautiful game of Football Manager, amazon and Netflix.

Its hard to get much Peace here, man. So much happening, nurse action that I stay up at night, writing or playing footyman, sleeping into the PM. I got an amp that punishes all they’ shitty speakers which seem to provide shit music, too.

I gotta go try get something 2 eat, but I’m gonna stick with this. More soon. R


Words from the asylum

Yes it’s true, your man is in hospital. But safe and calm, yeah, that type of hospital Yh! It’s oh so familiar the whole thing. From the staff to the burger meals.i like familiar things btw, maybe it’s part of my autism.

i have given up smoking. The stress by the end was so intense… like if you smoke it she will get cancer….man….how do u cope when you’ve been smoking for 25 years? So I smoked it, but the next one I didn’t smoke, the one where she would have gone to hell forever. Yeah, thanks. So when the ambulance arrived I forgot to take my tobacco. When I got to hospital I wasn’t too surprised to find out that they didn’t have or sell cigs, and anyhow they wouldn’t let me outside back then. Perhaps because I’m so very very dangerous. When my mum point blank refused to get me snout I realised I had not smoked in three days or more and didn’t really need to. That occurred a week ago and I’m still snoutless. No drink either, just lots of cups of tea.

ive produced a little art since arriving, most of it is neat. Some new writing too.

i feel like I’ve been given a second chance here, man I nearly bled to death 💀 on my living room floor. If it was indeed a cry for help, sobeit, thanks to the nhs I’m alive and recovering. Sadly I severed a few tendons and they can’t say if I’ll play my ol six string again.


entering hospital I was reminded of a book by Andrew Solomon, the noonday demon, where he describes entering the ward for the first time and feeling mad empathy for everyone and everything there. I got it when I stepped foot in the tv lounge, though this is far from my first admission to hospital. Walked in…thought…alright! Since then I made a couple of friends. I guess the point is that it was the second time in my life I felt as if I belonged on the ward, like it was home. What is this…rebirth? Time transaction? Dimensional loops? Or could it be a state of mind, seeing that this is partly a case of deja vu.

things I miss from home? Cable tv, my beautiful cat 🐈 but that is basically it. When a man leaves a haunted and blasphemated home they rarely miss it. Really I never want to go back there. Yh, state of mind or environment?both. And more.

last thing, I recently published a book. By Ostravious , it is called How To Blag A Safe Forever. It’s worth reading.

gotta go, lorazepam calls.

peace to you, me, and the Gods

R x

Freestyle Champion Complete

Yeah this one called two-three-eight, it’s nothing special…number (let’s get this)

This is my own code that’s why

This stuff is telepathy

Rerecord some old shit I think because I got better at my vocal style, man, I swear

That’s a hundred bars I swear to God

Shit is lethal, I swear that’s a hun’ed, man

Yeah thats pretty good

Lets check this out

Man, am I going to have to do this again?


Make sure your vocals is right, m’nugget

Man how am I gonna do this again?

Turn the treb up

Maybe this stuff’s too high, man…

Make sure the vocals dominate

And check it out, check it out, yeah yeah

Whatever, man

How’s that, man?

Feeling the mic at last, man

Hey, thanks, man

Gonna have to do this, man

I don’t wanna do this, man

Shit, come on, man

but battling as a way of avoiding legals

shit is lethal

chess with C starts unintended usually

anything but boards

why do you cry to Charlotte?

Nah…finishing off the album, yo

I did it over two night’s, y’know

“These are cra…” there ya go

So I left you with

“These are crazy crazy crazy (k)nights

Like they’re sort of on the pipe or something

Not saying KISS is on the pipe, like that dude out of Aerosmith

Steve Tyler, and gone to a black man’s regime

I’ll never get truly respected on the microphone

because of my pigment of my…whatever, man



Is this any good, man?

The voices say I don’t get voices

The voices say don’t tell them you have voices

surround sound like really nice environ’

the chevron

but captain actually only middling rank

Liverpool or Saints, England emperor fuckin’ Boltons non-brigand BrigAdier, and

knaves, theses are krazy krazy krazy knights

spray painted plate armour auras of chivalry but it’s so unwanted in the modern age

sir galahad is writing about female chivalry he got dumped for holding a door open for her

messed up on the damsel in distress

whats that compared to a honey trap

basic socially learned instinct to honour the chosen female

compared with smoking hersch and running through fellow sirs like lyrics on last laugh

that, Sir, is mutiny

well mutiny it is

on an aero or wispa let alone a bounty

it’s a well known alien sketch

nah i’m pretty serious

but are humans in star trek extra terrestrial?

They only here ‘cos im like on some vulcan ship shit

look up in the sky

BIG lookin lips

flying sauciers and head shop chefs

high but on brain impeders a known impediment to thinking

got me thinking

and you recording again

see, seeing thru my eyes on the ======= is in my eyes a vicarious existence

if u got earth consciousness and people fucking with you means u in deep shit

so make the world a better place

is it the people or the planet making you so miserable?

Terra committed suicide potentially

im not suicidal but i’m committed

from or to an attack to or on the 1983 ammended mental health act

this makes perfect sense

if you want to feel stuff

make me think about you

first adolescence is weird enough

as or to the and but ever even chivalry when it’s then again what but?

As a typical sentence construct

soldering iron in someone elses butt

schinshe the schcottish schitt

Rog’s robotic or retarded, im hungry enough to feel you I need emotion chips

feel that

you’re ill because you’re black

im back in white painted rooms soon str8jacketed trying to prove i’m not

leave on section seventeen left unspen’

leave the sex shit alone get misheard man ghost suddenly makes a lot more sense what


Herbie Hancock freestyle

Punching heads but not of others

Got brain damage and acid causing rain damage

I cry all the time

Several hundreds of times

Seventy Two Thousand Bars but still mentally tough enough to rhyme

The spider is tougher than the rest

You say my worst is better than your best

Only if I really want to make you feel bad

Even worse, hash, rad

Put that in your pipe and smoke it

But fuck this lyrical Snookery

Up there’s a load of Dalek plural up in the sky

Leela still feels me when I close my eyes

Maybe help get a larger monacle for Christmas or maybe Fry

For times we shed rhymes like dimes

My rhymes seem excellent at times

But they say these things like Time-Stealers they’re taking time

Leave you with lines

Forehead full of rhymes you could split but that would be a crime

Rhythm rhymes with Dime’s

Dime dies but his Dean still cries

This is 1985

This is the chorus

Listening to my shit is the only way to make you rawkus

This is the chorus

One time for

This is for the chorus

Brother never lies

You can put the Herbie Hancock shit in on my vocal

Don’t make me take you all into Rhyme Hell again

cos I got titles like in the Yellow Pages

extra terrestrial directories say theyre coming to Earth

And where is it, Roggy?

Blame me in 2015

The white is a minority

And we need to learn how to bow to our Master Queen, Snooks

Outside being criticised to those right in front of me

I wrote all this shit in the Mental Penitentiary

Gotta be good for something, though

Miss Lizzy a bit

Whatever man

This is the same as horsebox only horsebox is back in control

Bet u never heard this over Herbie Hancock


Let me get another file man, seeing as i’m doing this

Chill, man, just chill

Everyone saying how boring It is

Yeah lets check this out man

I dont even wanna do it

nah, not this

yeah lets try this one, man

motherfucker, thats a Hundred Bars

must have had a smoke or something

what beat man?

Over the hundred bars beat

nah, ill never make it, man

man im never gonna do this, man

cmon fuckin…

pull the fuckin lead out, man, let alone whatever, man

jusy… I dont wanna do this and then say…like whatever, man

put it on, man




we all sort of digital, digital sorta song

this is about to be a Hundred Bars

I dont care what it sounds like, man

turn the treble down a little, man

so just spit the motherfucker and just like whatever, man

I dont feel like doing this

im sniffing more than hasish

im just gonna go over the duh-duh-duh stuff

y;know its like uh…

only its not…


Ill be alright, man

ill probably quit this shit and then get on some other rhyme

Crowd ready and waiting, sir

“Could you make ya’ neurotransmintters hurry up and click?

to reach the decision I already decided on

it’s not about the money, cars, bitches

I don’t need em son I ain’t even got none

but I got certificates to prove i’m not mad

whether this is getting iller

while you’re trying to prove you have the equivalent of Schizophrenia on the Mic

all you prove is that

its not about the love either

I don’t need a crowd an audience to witness

‘just as well’ I hear you say

and I am just as well

26th September you rely on it

just as well as fair in my near infinite wisdom

i’ll say I forgive you man, I probably won’t

to clear it up i’m the one you pray to when you ask for forgiveness

can you forgive this?

In his near-Herculean displays of semi or more than fairness

Minor Deity Shit

I forgive God and get sent for my sins to heaven

not joking where i’m from is like a Hendrix cover

South Saturn Delta, actually i’m from the East, then,

not purple haze more like bluey-green

I see my home planet in dreams

modern concepts that in a competition you’d be willing to wait a couple of minutes for me to remember

your Utopia more like Conetticut

if I give you fifty percent shares in our conversation I lose several billion

why you complainin’?

Aliens hit me off with things you cannot fathom

they write the whole album and tell me to write one

about Neil Armstrong…

he was getting tortured by The Moon

if he was European he would barely have made fuckin’ U.S. News

possessed the spirit of a tiger in Germany

offed one you blame a feline hungry and in captivity

came round to mine for a few hours we watched ESPN

put his legacy on the Presidents team and to my surprise they won

yeah I know but there’s a semi Siberian Cat-Being missing his Son

word gets back to his home planet that’s the case, son

as I dress in leather and get done for self effacement

skin of a cow legacy an chased Jesus off the Cat’ Ground

He didn’t bring any Cider to the Cipher and he got partially eaten by a Mechanical Spider

Spinning Multidimensional Webs attracting ya Time Flies, boy

it don’t when you’re in near solitary for thousands of Centuries

guarded by thousands of sentries

get Sky and get threatened during Prime Time

don’t get at me man, I know this shit don’t rhyme

just ‘cos someone gets robbed by a horse after Half-time equine alcoholic only wanted cheese and wine

Military Personnel getting anxious about Caffeine Levels sayin stuff about dying

Fuck It, i’m callin’ it Freestyle Shit, pop ur shit at a similar level same time without dryin’

battle shit spent I wonder where my anger went

Maybe i’m In Love or something…

I need to be around Women if only for the Discharge and ‘heaven scent’ Yeast Infections

Cobain dies at Twenty-Seven and asks me ‘What’s the difference?’

my voices are telling me to write about chemical influence

the voices are saying i’m so ill my voices tell me I don’t get voices

choices and vices

chances you end up handcuffed to handcuffs handcuffed to something obvious are obvious

just like you I had my chances

the Presidents Wife thinks Sick Spirits come to Earth to be Born, on a side note

traditional truant with a persistent sick note

as I lie in bed til whenever fuckin’ I want

I wonder where it, (the instinct) went

as always I blame the Institution to a certain extent

Life’s an Institution as much as the works of Heidegger or Kant

spirits dig Earth but when they Die they can’t leave it

until I absorb significant amounts of negativity

someone lucky gets the other side of it, I think she’s called Nelly Furtado, Man (!)

positive thoughts get to escape and rejoin the rest of the galaxy

tough time for Homeboy, but the stars are different, ask Brian May

depressives are healers for their soul twin

i’m going negatively off point but I can’t emotionally reciprocate, then again

the Human Voice is so Foreign it causes pain

we’re all Aliens to Aliens but Earth’s not shared, not theirs, its ours

that’s what we think about the Internal Intricacies of the nearest Coloniseable Cluster, Anyhow

So Peace to Tau Ceti, Thank God, Yo, I’m Out.”

Telling myself I’m not Alone

Tell myself that I’m not alone

Why would I listen though

When I’ve got me to listen to

And not you, not anyone

Must be what I wanted

Well I got it

Got it?

well I kinda did

the end of the sofa damages morale

shit is significant

shit is schizophrenic

so it’s significantly schizophrenic, certainly

but I don’t hear anyone else laughing

cry out, crysis, far cry

cant play red dead redemption 2, why?

rdrr like that

funny? I nearly laughed

fish are laughed

that is,

i don’t hear them laughing, but I see them laughing at me, at every mistake vs infinity and /or a perfect reflection of a relative reality where perfection is relative, relatively speaking. Then they say they deal only in absolutes. Well, absolutely.

then the voices start. Asking if I need help writing poetry, do I need help to watch tv. All I can thinksay, thoughtdeed, is to ‘’’think’’’, to ‘’’say’’’ is my shit could be better. Do they want me to stop? Some Government feel threatened? Like I’m not allowed to write any more. Thought police? I need thought Good Samaritans, to give me hope in my hour of need. It’s funny, in Ackright by Dr Dre it goes ‘good Samaritan save that hoe from getting smacked up’ . Oh, please, then? Some people hate Good Samaritans. They can’t ever be really cool.

for the last eleven weeks there is no record of The History of Earth. Anywhere. Nowhere in the Whole Universe. Is this because of me? Most things are. Except, this one could actually be me, distorting time lines, influencing the axis of Earth, forever altering the previously smooth passage of our Sphere through space and time.

  • my cat, Kipper, is giving me a dirty look, I reckon for picking up a pen she so enthusiastically pushed to the floor. She may as well be from whatever Agency is messing with me today. Yesterday it was the Spanish. I went to Barcelona once, so they, from Madrid, have a head start in disliking me. They already have an excuse, even a reason to do it. And indeed they did fuck me up. I get visited by intelligence from all over this world and other, new worlds, too. At least I think I do, and one should always give a schizophrenic the benefit of the doubt, unless he or she or it is one of the rare lying schizophrenics. You know what they all ‘’’say’’’ to me, the intelligence agencies? Prove it. Prove what? Prove we’re giving you voices. Prove to who? Your local MP…the police…MI5. They all say it. I mean it’s likely to be MI5 or a subsidiary of. It’s the same old argument, and the same thought processes in my troubled mind. Prove I get voices? If I could prove it…is it even proveable in the first place? Doctors I talk to believe me mostly, but sadly hold the opinion that it’s not real. Rog you are not getting tortured by governments all around the world. Aliens then? Or Aliens. If I could prove I was getting psychologically abused by distant Galaxies to my Doctor, what can she do? The satisfaction, though, would be palpable. She actually agrees with me? I’m right for the first time here. But what happens to the responsibility? Would she have a duty to try and stop Andromeda-Hating Quadrants fucking with my head cos of my relationship with our Galactic neighbour? It’s not real. Oh, right. That’s nice to know. Perhaps a small discussion between us over the nature of reality someday. But why leave it until tomorrow…let’s have lunch together. You’re married? Well then, congratulations doctor. But I didn’t ask u if you were married….yeah I know this bit is too long… but it’s tradition, is it not, for doctors to sometimes socialise with the people. Oh, and I’m not paying cos u earn over ten times as much as me. Yeah I agree that it’s all relative, when Messi gets a cool Million notes a week. He probably complains that the Barcelona President, God bless him, has far more paper even than him.

but I digress. For example, a government hires a worker whose mother was raped. The government tells him that you are a rapist, feeds him with amphetemine and whatever mind-hacking equipment that they use…he’s been primed, and you can’t get away from the traumatised youth. I hear the pay is excellent, too. Voices…I knew one girl, and she claimed that she was getting paid 150 notes per minute. Per minute! Specialist…I think people sit in meetings and discuss what voices they are going to give to me and my schizophrenic brethren the next day. What will the theme be? It’s a waste of taxpayers money, man. Yeah, from my experience….yeah I know, Ill man claims government gives him voices. Well they do. They would, too. The first thing intelligence agencies want is access to the brains of the populace, to know what people are thinking etc oh the Thought Police you say?! Hippy!

Seeya, Rog x

Things I’m scared of

I’m scared of going to Hell. Scared of the CIA, FBI and MI5. Scared of Jesus, Satan, and the Prophet Mohammed. Scared of Wasps. Scared of God, Tau, and other Deities. Scared of making decisions and scared of responsibility. Becoming homeless, I’m scared of that, cos I can’t survive on the street. Scared of my crippling voices, confrontation, Andromeda, Aliens, losing my keys and being locked out, scared of crowds, the human voice, rejection, being forced to betray, scared of loved ones dying, scared of the shadow of my stupid nose, being tested, exams where I studied the wrong questions and just sit there staring at my blank paper, scared of pain, death, and scared of life, even. Also performing in public, scared that her partner finds out, scared stiff of work, judgement day, leaving my friends high and dry, permanence, lack of permanence, scared of eating a bacon roll in front of an advanced, sentient pig, not really knowing who I am, scared of love, wedding speeches, fainting, scared of never knowing where my home is or going back there, facing the consequences of my actions when there is no time to process information or get a second opinion, scared of being raped by a lesbian, scared of leaving my home city, my own thoughts being used against me, dying alone, Klopp leaving, scared of being boring, scared of Sunday’s, scared of forever, eternity and infinity, inadvertently causing all out intergalactic war, scared of having an extremely powerful psychic bond with someone and being forced to deny it or leave them permanently, and scared of inadvertently having sexual relations with a horse or goat.

This is a lot of stuff to be afraid of. I know. As for why I’m frightened of these things, I couldn’t really say. Well, my fear of wasps is easy, one got into my t shirt when I was a kid in primary school and stung me a dozen times. It developed into a phobia. If I see one, I freak out. Scared of fainting, sure. Fainting is common for me, and the feeling I get right before actually passing out is soooooooo bad. When it’s inevitable and the next thing you know you’re on the floor, soon to be offered water to drink.

You know what else I’m scared of? I’m scared of you.

Sun, Moon and Stars

Cardboard Sofa Filla

Pt 1 – Stars and Space

Man…as we look to the Night Sky…we have difficulty acknowledging that The Earth is in Space already. Its just another planet. But why are planets spherical? Theres no reason why planets are shaped like this. I think back to the Big Bang…man why would that happen? Before the Big Bang…whatever created our Universe would not allow its creation to die by retraction.

Why is there life anywhere? It doesn’t make sense.

In my mind I see perfect dark, and a mans finger evident, coming out of the darkness, tapping once, and creating mad life coming from the tip.

We don’t know why we are here. All we can do is guess. If they could ask God only one question, most ppl would say like “What is Life?” Or “What is the Meaning of Life?” shit like that. Life is anything that exists, I guess. And the meaning of life? Maybe it’s simply survival. An Obligation To Survive, as Hetfield sang on the Black Album. Survival By Any Means could be the meaning of Life. Or you could look in a dictionary, under L for Life, and read that. Ppl who define words are smart, man.

Fuck, we have all but killed the planet, 300 million year old insect species are going extinct and Bees are all but an Endangered Species. Without Bees humans are in big trouble. Earth is frustrating, man. There’s no plan on this Planet. It cant cope with the fucking ppl, man! Too much life is too bad and I can’t do everything. I can hear our world crying with disappointment for Mankind. They tried too much at first. Humans are basically animals in need of food and water and kill in their mind, repeatedly. We enter and exit life helpless and with little idea of what happens next. I can say i’m alive. Yeah. Go Rog, good luck with that being alive shit. But the matter that creates my body was there in the Big Bang, we all are made of the same material, going all the way back to the entering of Life itself. Scientists say its about 20 Billion Years, but it’s not. A reliable and knowledgable acquaintance assures me that it is 274.2561 Trillion Years Old.

So when Rakim Allah speaks of the Seventh Angel last coming to Earth 66 Trillion Years ago, it makes sense. How could we know how old the Universe is? Man. I bet that when we figure out the meaning, aims and scientific prowess of the Universe, if Humans manage to do it before WWIII that is, …no i’ve forgotten my point. It was nice though. A telling contribution indeed. Oh yah. If we survive to find out how old shit is, the debate will simply change to ‘Which Universe’ because there’s untold Millions or Billions of Universe Types. Universe Types?Of course Universes would have different styles, weird patterns and strange creations, unique matter types. Which Universe? Fuck.

I think that I have had a positively underwhelming effect on a nearby Galaxy. It cries always at the unfairness of it all, while a Million beautiful Suns start singing in harmony, just to cheer the weeping Star up, as it was a popular little animal indeed. Ocelot strange type

1, entrenched Defensive Ego Complex. Doesn’t rhyme an more he says. Nah fuck this it’s boring Anyone fancy a sly half?. Stars are alive, any Stars fancy a pint? How many pints would it take to extinguish a middle sized Sun? How many to make one a little tipsy? Probably more than the number of grains of sand in the Sahara Desert, but less than the weight of the Pisces Constellation, in Grams. The number of raindrops that have ever falled on Earth? Man, thats got to be a big big number. Vastly more than the number of Universes inside an Atom, potentially, theres like 76 separate spheres inside each love-me-do-me-do atoms, which need breathing space in the

collider. And it isn’t safe to do that, why would we crash atoms anyway? They feel massive pain, and they want to be loved. They need a long run up and a straight line in pipe form. As I masticate. Knowledge from Tau space. Scientists are they. Atoms wont behave if they are unhappy. They have responsibility to the Sun they were once part of. Oh and the disappearance of Saturns Rings? The rings are going home. I cannot tell you what that means. Not because of security issues, at all,but because I don’t know. Did you know that Earth (who called it ‘Earth’? Imagine the pressure of having to name our World. How do we judge what the best name is? ‘Earth’..better than ‘Soil’ but we can all come up with better names, certainly funnier names.)

The Earth had been all but forgotten by the Milky Way (‘Milky Way’!), it was kinda brushed under the interstellar carpet and left to fend for itself. Life dies here. Everything will die here, even you. The Sun too. At one point in my life I figured that, because the Sun will become dead in a couple of billion years time, there wasn’t much point in doing anything at all, let alone the homework I was trying so hard to avoid doing. Of course, my mistake was that we, as a race, could calmly re-invent a Space Ship (a ship? In Space? How Absurd!) and leave our little, meek, with its massively unpopular Saturn and vitally unobserved nearest-to-Ganymede World, leave our Solar System and hastily colonise Earth 2.0. If one thinks that we are the only life in the Universe (how absurd!) then it wont be populated and we wont be kindly but firmly asked to leave or have the interstellar equivalent of a clip round the ear and our collar ‘felt’. Many feel that putting a man on Mars is a stupid, crowd pleasing, budget-really-aggrandising thing to do. Mars itself, having been at War with Earth a few times already, would scream silently in pain and horror if it felt Human footsteps on its terrain. Oh we were at war with them? Yeah, a few countless millions of years ago. A tit-for-tat encounter in which pleasantries and playful, teasing banter turned into what Earth called a ‘Special’ War (Martians called it ‘unwanted, unnecessary…Just

Me on UFC

Yep, here we go, Party. It’s me on UFC. I made up a joke about this on twitter once. Ultimate fighting Championship. Again. Except…..man. Again? Like….who wanna see championship get his ass kicked by ultimate? Oh I’m an artist, it’s different. Differently abled? To what? Yo fat ass? More abled. More able. Very Fucking Able, Francis. Indeed. Sir.

I’m in for a bollocking here

And I didn’t even get to talk about UFC

Ah well

Rog? It’s me. Of course……no, don’t worry, our able Host, Rogerius Maximus, the Lord, is merely describing himself from a third person…or is it fourth…fifth….take the fifth, negro? No? Motherfucker.

Sergio the Panther vs Alves the kickboxer. An all Brazilian affair. Another girl announces the round with her….physical attributes. Tall, skinny, big tits. Every other girls nightmare. Don’t steal my man. Quietly. To myself. Don’t st…..please don’t steal my man. Please? Or I’ll fucking Kill you, Bitch!!!!!