Inflam Bowel McRae

A girl wants to get a endoscopy on me, in other words, get some quacks to shove a camera up my ass.  She’s taking far too much interest in my welfare, but I personally think she’s just doing it to see if I’ll let her get away with it.  She’s gotten me to see a shrink about my head problems, even though she does nothing about hers, it’s all some sort of weird game with her.  I asked if she could help me sort out some exercises for my back because she teaches yoga and she said No. 

Well, there you go. 

A woman dressed as a nurse dressed as one who infects.

It’s like small balding men who piss into home brand olive jars for a cheap laugh, pimento is actually quivering squid flesh dipped in red jelly.

That man has hate like a virus, he contracted it from a toilets seat in Footscray, that’s why you should carry a bottle of kerosene to those public johns.  But hate’s better then Buddhism or even worse yet that hippy cognito virus.  Some jerk at Clifton Hill station the other day bitchin’ about losing change at a ticket machine.

“It’s the principle, it’s about the PEOPLE.” 

His words like tendrils reach our ears, annoy the fuck out of us.  It comes and colludes with my coffee, makes sweat through my pores, that bastard.

“YES, I WILL take a form, if I don’t say anything you get the power over me…”

Comes up to me where I’m trying to read a book near an anxious kid crossing his legs like he needs to pee near his mum with a nice rack, the guy tries to come on strong with his psychic barbs, but I ain’t having that, my stare freezes the barbs as they wave towards me, turns them to withered black ice.

“Go fuck yourself.”  He gets the message even though he tries to mask it with a questioning look.  Yes, I’m onto you, I’m onto what you’re doing.

“You’re giving me a headache”, so I piss in his mouth and shove a dozen panadeine in there.

“That better?”

I got that hate virus as my defense mechanism my immune system against the hippy better known as passive aggressive cognito fuckwit virus.  Against you and all you people who want to diagnose me with your phony dis-eases and pretend to care, against all of you who wish to create beef for no reason and try to get us involved, against all of you trying to pass your falseness off as something that’s not real and insidious, the REAL dis-ease that just makes me sick.  Fuck off, just fuck off.

What’s big, blue and fucks your head?

Me in my big blue suit.


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