Fuck the government, fuck you all
It will probably rain, it could equally be dry, maybe a bit of both, a little snow, some hail, a few cats, the odd dog and my uncle Sam. One thing I do know is, there’s a big black cloud hanging over my life.
My money-making trip to Las Vegas was a bit of a disaster. Let’s just say that when God tells you to put your life savings on Black 13, you should first consider whether or not the big man upstairs would have any reason to plot revenge against you.
And I’m yet to find my virgin. I did meet a delicious young lady working at KFC, but when we got back to her house I was greeted by the sight of two fat toddlers.
What this means for the globe is that we’re absolutely fucked. I mean, completely. By now, I should already be busy saving the world and being hailed as the saviour of mankind. Instead I’m sat in my Kensington flat with a glass of scotch, staring at my giant flatscreen television, wondering how in the hell are we ever going to prevent this imminent mass extinction event and whether anyone would notice if I stopped paying council tax?
I may not know how to predict the weather, but I sure can tell you what weather has been happening. Lots and lots of storms, tornadoes, floods, drought, wildfires – sometimes all in the same afternoon. And what are we doing about it? Subsidising the fossil fuel industry and building more roads. Well fuck it, just fuck it. Fuck the government, fuck you all.
Yeah, you heard me. Fuck off. I don’t like you anymore. We’re all going to die and it’s going to be all your fault. You fucking fuck.
I need to revisit my psychologist. The fucking prick.
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