Seven

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ing. Ing. Ing. Ing. Ing. Ing. Ing.

Hell.

FUCKING HELL.

Now that I’ve got your attention, welcome back for another term of seven, it’s great to have y’all on board. But you folks better hold on, this term is gonna be one fucking hell of a ride eh?

So pour yourselves a cup of tea, a glass of scotch, some ether, whatever your poison may be. Get ready. Now. Strap yourself in bitch! Why haven’t you done it yet?

Deepest apologies for my offensiveness. Deepest sympathies for your loss.

Coz let’s face it, you’ve had one right? Everyone has. Mine was pretty fucking big. Mine was twice, thrice, fhrice. It’s happened again and again.

That’s right. I’m losing my hair.

Oh yeah, and my wife died.

Anyway, it’d good to see y’all back. I’ve missed the motherfucking hell out of you. And if you can’t tell my sober spell is over. Well and truly. I’ve drank every day for the past 3-4 weeks. I don’t remember. But it’s been a lot.

Too much money. I spend a lot of money. So do you. Money is evil. Not really. We’re the evil fucks around here. Money is just another one of our tools.

The most evil tool of all is our brain. Think about it. Ha! What a pun! Think about it! No, but seriously, think about it. Our brains are so damn fucking bloody amazingly incredibly EVIL. Like the human brain is literally the source of all evil. Literally.

Kids should study that in school. I like kids. I had one once. He died too.

Death surrounds me. It follows me like an unpleasant odour you can’t shoe away. Not even with Glen 20 or that Glade Clean and Fresh.

Light up a cigarette. I dare you. You probably haven’t in many years. Maybe it’s your first time. But do it. Take a long drag and think of me. I’m there in your house. Undressing you.

HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I’m one fucked up sadist.

It’s been nice being on your computer screen for the past few minutes.

Until next week,

Adios Amigos!

This entry was written on July 17, 2007 by Alexander van Zandt. It is about/includes mentions of Mr Van Zandt, Seven, humour, language, life, school. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.