Monday, March 7, 2011

Ekke Ekke Ekke Ekke Ptang Zoo Boing Zow Zing

Now, now.

Brace yourselves.

We cannot know him-

The maggot man with an iron chest.

His unspeakable sins hidden within his charred soul.

His long healed wounds caressed, coddled like they were bloody fresh from a few minutes ago.

He sits on his golden pedestal, replete with unicorns and cherubs fussing about, serving his fancies and crying his tears for him.

We saw him before he came, we let him drink our blood and eat our intestines so he may grow, we dreamt of him in yellow silk pajamas playing the Moonlight sonata on his harmonica but now you cannot know him.

Must see:

I fear Maggot man may have been running Libya.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

When angels vomit.

I have decided it is futile to try and be sophisticated when you actually want to be funny. Here's to silliness and a paranoid housemate -

A wandering minstrel I—
A thing of shreds and patches,
Of ballads, songs and snatches,
And dreamy lullaby!

If you haven't seen Mikado, you lead a deprived life.