The gospel of Itchy Wiggle Christ, Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen [black books to read .TXT] 📗
- Author: Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen
Book online «The gospel of Itchy Wiggle Christ, Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen [black books to read .TXT] 📗». Author Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen
ah, a splendid morning, an off-duty detroit police officer was shot and killed last night in front of a stripper club. and on the other side of the city a crazed black drug fiend was running thru a neighborhood shooting off a gun, killing one and wounding two. of course that is a slow night in detroit, but then again the news often does not report every murder. they don´t want anyone thinking detroit is a bad place, HA HA HA. but to see a detroit nazi police man get killed only elicits feelings of satisfaction in me. those pigs getting something back for their cowardice and corruption. if a giant hole opened up underneath detroit and sucked the entire city and all its fucked-up occupants, it would be doing this world a great favor. and nobody would miss that godforsaken city. there never is any real threat alerts in detroit warning about possible terrorist bombings or some such shit. there is no question why that is: even the terrorists do not give a flying shit about detroit! it is the nastiest city i´ve ever seen, and i have seen many. what happens when monsters are allowed to govern themselves. america claims to be the land of freedom, and look at what happens when they give freedom to a race of neandertal monsters. so went rome, and so will go america. enjoy your big macs while you can, fuckers.
nighttime finally. kung-fu movie on TV, some blind guy with a flying guillotine and wearing a nazi baby-bib, excellent stuff. i´m still sick as all hell, coughing up corruption from my lungs and screaming in pain from a pounding headache. doctor butcher has prescribed a heavy migraine medication for me, but i don´t get it until the next few days, so i live with PAIN in the meantime. which is nothing new to me. super hot sticky air making breathing even more hard to do despite my lung corruption, geil. chinese people make good movies. now the blind nazi-bib guy is throwing exploding grenade balls. cool shit. wish i had me some of them grenade balls. or the flying head-chopper guillotine for that matter. it would make life interesting around this living hell. i worked hard today despite my corruption sickness, also. i paint now a nasty picture of a retarded superman shitting on people. real choice stuff. vincent would be proud, HA HA. so i bid you all a good night, and can safely rest knowing that no matter where you all are or what you are doing, you will have a much better sleep than i. here´s to my small death in dreams, prost!
sick puke bloody diseased crippled no-death morning. why did i not die in my sleep? why, jeebus? because i am so necessary for jeebus to get his jollies torturing. a hurricane the size of texas is about to slam into the usa, 145 mile-per-hour winds - jeebus likes to torture the evil usa, too. i am not evil but jeebus likes to torture me anyway - he does not care. and all importantly: HE DOES NOT HAVE TO CARE. siberia, the north pole, i wish i were free, i would make my way north like frankenstein´s creature just to escape all humanity. what a disease my life has become. what a living fucking horrible hell i am stuck in. the nazis of michigan keep me captive and no one can help me get out, if nothing is done i will be here forever, or until i die, and my best bet is on the latter. everyone dies sooner or later, and i am hoping for the sooner. but seeing as i have not the smallest amount of luck, i will probably live past 100 years. the michigan nazis holding me captive would just love that. poopy-pants, death-cult, brain fever, pizza with feta cheese. think happy thoughts, greggy. happy flowers and puppies. the black loud-mouthed monsters are not real greggy, they are just an illusion. all is well, all is well.
there is a devil, a small little devil. he lives inside my stomach, and he pokes the side of my stomach with his pitchfork and makes me vomit blood and shit blood. the devil also whispers messages to me, telling me that no one cares about me and that i am totally alone in this world and that i will be alone for all my life because no person on earth could possibly understand me. the little devil tells me to drink whiskey and cheap wine and beer and liters of jägermeister. for this i forgive the little devil and would love to do as he suggest, but i cannot, so i guess that this is another small torture he has for me. the little devil who lives in my stomach makes me hate all the schwarze monsters because the little devil hates them. altho the devil is evil, he is also very smart, and he does not like stupidity and retardation. he hates the schwarze monsters because they are beyond even stupid. evil beyond evil, yes, but stupid beyond comprehension, and that disgusts the little devil. so i guess that i don´t mind the little devil in my stomach so much, i think as he does, and i will puke and shit blood no matter what anyway. i am the little devil, i am him, he is me.
there is no hope. life is hell. i must have done something really bad in my past life to end up being punished and tortured this way for no good reason in this godforsaken life. this is the end, beautiful friend, the end. ja, jim, why can´t you help me? who don´t you? please?
EEK...shit-fuck-cunt-lick goddamned day is ended. piss on it all and piss on life and piss and shit on all existence. finished my superman painting. satisfaction and more headaches. this whole world is wild at heart and weird on top. it´s just shit, all shit, shit, shit. that´s right laura. and then there´s isabella rossellini. what am i doing here? - it´s the question i often find myself asking myself. and the always inevitable answer after it is far too late: never get off the fucking boat. but i have got off the boat a few too many times, which, one led me to my current demise. what a bunch of horrible shit is this disease-riddled world. even dreams are not touching the horror. i´m not fooling myself in the dreams, i keep waking up. my head has been cut off by the flying guillotine, thrown by a blind chinese old man with a nazi baby bib. my head rolls on the floor, blood spurting out my neck, and i am laughing my last laugh, my last mocking laugh at the world, for i have escaped your hells, i have said goodbye forever, and i thank graciously the crazy old blind chinese man for what he has done for me.
so, superman, do you feel so super now? how is life treating you, guy? i´ll bet you would not win in a fight with the chinese nazi-bib old man. he would kick your ass hard, superman. you with your "truth, justice and the american way" bullshit. the chinese guy would cut your goddamned ami head off. hey superman, do you fight for big macs and crack cocaine and big cars and murder and prostitution and rape and obesity and reality TV and kentucky-fucky-fried-chicken? is that the american way you fight for? yeah, i thought so. so go suck an egg, superman. nazi chinese baby-bib head chopper man is my avatar, my hero. he cut off my head and made me happy, he took me away from all this pain and loneliness and heartbreak and entropy. watch my head roll roll rock-n-roll. die with the best of them: jim, kurt, sid, darby, ian. see ya soon, guys.
dead fuck shit piss morning. how would you enjoy having to wake up and see, and smell, schwarze monsters every single fucking morning? hey, come to a michigan nazi prison and you will get so much of this shit that your mind will eventually break, as mine has. unless you are one of those complete retarded morons who like schwarze music and believe that all men are created equal. HA HA, you uninformed idiots. if you only knew the truth. the evil inherent in these monsters, the ingrained faggotry, lack of any manners or hygiene. men are equal? i am not equal to a faggot monster. but this world is so beyond "the truth" and "common sense" anyway. it is no question that all of this is going straight to hell, and the more the world goes through its death-throes, the more suffering i see, the more bombs and dead soldiers and obesity deaths and murders that i see, the more i will laugh my ass off in malicious glee. because this world had a chance to do something with itself - to evolve. but instead it chose to stagnate and wallow in false pretenses like "freedom" and "equality" - it is all a load of shit, and in the end, not even the strong will want to survive. evolution of the human species is ended. my alien friends can come pick me up any time now. get me the fuck out of this fucking place, off this sick perverted diseased planet. destroy, destroy, destroy, help me.
i´ll be just a minute. burn some bodies while you are waiting. i don´t care if you are crazy, doped-up, or mad at someone for hurting your feelings, you have got to stop with the clown make-up! i´m so sick i make up friends, i talk to myself, i´m so alone, it´s really not like being here at all. no replicant will get past security, so i guess my samantha carter android will have to be smuggled into the country. it´s all becoming so clear to me. my little mouse friends love to eat the bread i throw for my finchees, the sparrows. i think there is enough for them all, and the mousies seem so happy, running around in between the plant roots like it´s a playground maze. i am happy when i watch them, at least for a moment. it is night, i am still sick as shit, 8 days now of having a severe cold. cool shit - perfect, prima. piss and shit all over me, jeebus. my head feels funny, i´m thinking strange thoughts, i started a new painting tonight, some kind of ku-klux-klan monster thing, i don´t know what it is. i don´t know what i am doing anymore. g´night, shitheads.
holy crapping christ, it´s sunday, time to go see jeebus for all the creeping christians. pray to the holy ghost while you suck your host. you´ve got the biggest greenest thing hanging out of your nose. there´s no disease like the disease of jealousy, and all the world is sick of me! ha ha, ja, i doubt anyone is jealous of me right now. the bus is full of innocent children, the children represent all the good things that ever happened to me in my life, but the bus is being driven by the crazy chinese blind man with his nazi baby-bib tied around his neck, and he is laughing maniacally, laughing at the insanity of the world. the children in the back of the bus, which are me and my few good moments, are screaming in terror, and the crazy nazi-bibbed chinese driver pulls out his flying guillotine and starts whipping it aimlessly into the back of the bus, hitting random versions of me, slicing off my head and killing my past, killing everything that was me, eleminating all goodness that every was me, leaving only bloody decapitated messes strewn about the seats and floor, sticky dark red blood splattered all about. only one child remains,
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