Two Fried Eggs - 03/07 January 2004 / part 4
I've done the edge of the edge of the edge and pushed and pushed and heaved and so called 'reality', the very 'fabric' of reality bent 'n' buckled 'n' heaved 'n' twisted as I flexed a few numb and forgotten muscles out there on the BIG EDGE of drugs, madness, heartbreak, despair, a hand full of chickens and me fucking wig's fallen off, cats eaten t' dog, there's no kippers and I've lost me leg, and I took it all, everything that came flying at me from all angles and with varying degrees of velocity, but I didn't break, it didn't snap and I'm still here to shell the snail, phew. Ruth, you fucking stupid, evil, cold-hearted bitch,you would have enjoyed all this beyond your wildest dreams, I hope you had a shit one 'cos you are shit, a worthless piece of shite and there's a few of you isn't there. You fucking set of false, phoney cunts, flame on you. Oh, o.k., it's all gonna be ok 'cos me mate wants to fuck some women in Brazil, anywhere hot really, anywhere with loads of gorgeous women and I'm going too, you fucking bet 'cos I'm totally sick to the back teeth of the lack of sexual activity rendered upon my being by both the local female population and any visiting ones. Need a change of scene, a break, "Certainly Sir, which leg?" No mate, need to assemble some structures on rock, proper foundations yeh! Will take a good few months to assemble us both, my head's recovering, my body is sound, his body is recovering, his head is sound, then we're off, here's to the Whistler from Brazil! I reckon ***** is up for coming too 'cos he's just smacked a couple of 'Babylon' (pigs, coppers, old bill etc) and the adventure will do us good 'cos none of us want to come back. Have you noticed that your/head her/head my/head our/head their/head no/head 'the'/head, is on back-to-front but it doesn't really matter. And I talked to P-A-B-M 'cos I knew he could hear thru his floor/my ceiling and I laughed at him, and 'twas a frightening, manic laugh I pulled out of the bag especially for him. Ruth was like being addicted to the strongest, most powerful drug ever, the bad times start to outweigh the good times and you know you have to stop but you can't and then everything gets totally out of control and you have to stop or die, or die trying to stop. Well I nearly died a few times 'cos the craving and the yearning got so intense. You had to obliterate any nice memories with all those horrible, nasty ones didn't you, you fucking stupid alki whore. This is the hardest, longest cold turkey I've ever had to endure - NINE FKN MONTHS AND STILL FKN COUNTING, YER HAVING A FKN LAUGH! Feels like a hedge being dragged backwards through itself over and over again, forever. Me. And my sad go, a sorry tale of woe. Betrayal hurts. I know exactly where I went wrong, I should never have had anything to do with her after I'd fucked her stupid that weekend but we fell for each other. Then something slipped, she pushed me and I'm still falling but am nearer to saying "Yes", if George ever asks "Is everything under control, Paul?" Yes. The yes that doesn't mean no, but you wouldn't know anything about that would you Ruth, Goodbye Ruth, eat shit + die Ruth.
-Wet-Me-Whistler! X.
