baseball woo

Ive just watched an internet video masquerading as news, where in people seemed amazed that a man jumped over another man to score a point it, wowed the american public, thing is we have a game just like it over here in the uk,we call it rounders, and guess what shitkickers its for little girls.

sonic sound weapon

Duncan as he invariably always is,is researching,and todays dirt digging is harp and the weaponization of sound, but more pressingly he has an ongoing audio problem the recording of that is,, from his internal mic which does not seem to pick up anything below a scream which makes attention seeking via the medium of a webcam difficult if not impossible> start menu- search= audio control panel internal mic,ACOUSTIC ECHO CANCELLATION(ECHO STOP)?,NOSIE CANCELLATION (PURE AUDIO)?, these two choices that lay before him ,might have been, he thought the answer to his sound saga which has gone on since his mummy a year ago, bought him this new fangled porn library where the books are never used long enough to be over due .

Although Cyber savvy Duncan rarely allowed himself to escape the fluffy prison that was go ogles home page everything he ever needed intellectually at the touch of button, this was "insanely clever people country",he thought, he was! the tourist.

But which one would he choose? , A or B? whilst he pondered his decision a radio from the back of the room filled the air with the dirge of a man loosely speaking that is, who is known by the alias James Morrison despite constant attempts by him to personally to hide the fact his real name is Mr twat, from twat head land.

the nauseating waffle that was washing over Duncan making him seethe with disgust that he had to listen to it, as the radio producing it was way way over the other side of the room making reaching it impossible he thought,impossible that is without least a days supply of food and water and some strong sturdy hiking boots he truly was a lazy bastard, he mused amused. the wave of shit was clouding his already lacking judgement, and so before plumping for the eeny Meany Minny mo, he cranked up all levels to infinity ,and then hit the echo cancellation tick box..... nothing.... no play back" well it must be the pure audio" in fact he smiled and said a knowing "of course" well pure audio sounded quite nice didn't it? you can imagine being bathed in pure sunshine choirs of angels sitting on pure white light producing melodies that make you orgasm or shit your self depending on your mood, pure audio indeed seemed the obvious choice.


The sound was fairly innocuous at first a pleasant shrill echoed for all of three and a half seconds until, "fucking hell, that's not normal that's definitely not normal" the shriek of pure white noise or whatever the term was for the excruciating all enveloping sonic blast which was being aimed directly at his reptilian brain.

He recoiled from the laptop unable to get more than one metre away from the Compaq's death throws, it had been a whole minute now and the sound was peeling away layers of Duncan's brain like a hairy Terry's chocolate orange, his D.N.A morphing into something else something unsubstantial, splitting into confetti around him and still the twat played on, ironically high above the pure noise wailing on about how curly his hair is and why he loves some tart he cant have, it transcended, it could be that maybe James Morrison's recordings were the very key to hyper dimensional travel, it seemed possible.Or maybe it was all some CIA mind fuck brainwashing technique to persuade him to murder the net JFK that comes along anytime you hear middle of the road twat bile.

and as an axe hits the laptop duncan hits the floor. t.b.c

synopsis of male A

In the back room of a shop front in a back alley, a jail palloured male slouches on a couch, face lit only by his Trojan horse infected laptop perching on an old NHS hospital bed table,and the flare from an unprescribed medicinal cigarette made visible an array of whole sale T shirts ready to be metamorphosed into Geo political art along with undefined whiteboards fit for any C.S.I style homicide investigation, Duncan macvitie had gone hyper space long ago clearly some break down had occurred some cataclysmic nervous system neutron bomb which left the body seemingly undamaged but the mind staring deep into the abyss that was truth and the search for it " it lies within himself" he thought, and it did, but a price to pay for opening Pandora's box is you can never come back sometimes the truth isn't always appealing..., although ultimately all truth is fundamentally good.

Upon one of the many white boards and pin charts Duncan had adorning his wall, a very intricate and elaborate brainstorming picture covering at least one whole wall, seemed to list every mysterious , suspicious, esoteric, scientific and sociological question ever posed or unposed, all leading with thick indelible red marker lines to one central answer and resolution to these problems, which ironically was symbolised with the aide of an actual question mark. "answers lead to more questions, its always fractal", he often reminded himself, "everything is fucking! fractal" "cunts" he didn't know which fluffy long eared beast had had dug this rabbit hole or if he would ever reach the end in his lifetime, whoever "he" was.

PROFILE.............

Name - Duncan Macvitie

Age- 29 . 999999999999

Occupation- truther, god, sometimes revolutionary, ethical screen printer and one part of a pirate radio Internet and short wave radio show for all things conspiracy based

Relationships- is sporadically haunted by the events of his twenties and the ill choices of relationships so chooses abstinence like a zen master.

Interests- more obsessions, the meaning of life, life after death, life before death and everything in between from collapsing towers to pointless wars , old new technologies,and made up words, ancient civilizations to alien , hyper dimensional beings , human beings, and their doings, and wrong doings especially those. the esoteric, the material world in all its wonders and woes.

.

Now OK I'm a "conspiracy" nut i believe that in this world, groups of powerful individuals conspire against "us" the people for their own aims and agenda, why do people find that so hard to believe? i ask you is it so inconceivable? maybe if you took your head out of that KFC family bucket on a typically dull Saturday night and stopped violating your self as soon as you catch a glimpse of the new peoples princess Cheryl Cole you'd be better placed to understand what the fuck is going on around you as weird and far fetched as it may seem its the same shit you buy into in your Hollywood movies they so readily prepare for your tidy wrapped up minds, your so fucking branded you'd have the Nike swoosh as a tattoo if some cunt in a magazine wore it your rimming the devils ring piece and you fucking love it slave.

Now I'm not trying to be funny here or make some very clever point I'm just putting into writing the turn of events which have left me gobsmacked beyond belief and believe me i wade through so much weird wonderful and often false facts about conspiracies and the so called "truth" movement everyday.

A few weeks ago i was reading about even in this state of economic melt down surprisingly the country of Poland was fairing quite well economic wise they were showing signs of major growth , i mean they were really managing those books well, they were borrowing cheaply and they were the only country in the EU last year to register economic growth, which surely must upset those who secretly have been bringing all the worlds currencies into melt down to bring about a world currency which in turn would usher in world governance, if in fact we are not already residing under that dark dark black cloud of fascism already.

but to cut a long tale short(and your more than free to go look for your self)

Imagine my shock when tonight i learn of a plane crash , an accident i presume, which has tragically killed the flourishing leader of Poland alas not only that but his army chief, his deputy foreign minister,his central bank governor and scores of officials and legislators, and not to forget his wife and the crew.

I do find that truly an odd coincidence but then i would as I'm a "conspiracy" nut, that shit doesn't happen does it? governments have never executed or asassinated other political officials when it didn't fit into their plans fuck it that's right Jack Kennedy was shot by some cunt who didn't like gingers , maybe I'm wrong but what i will say is id rather have twenty free thoughts a day that were wrong but at the same time true to my beliefs.

a poem of lost love

I used to have a squirter she dowsed me with her goo,
i thunk that they were common place and everyone knew a few,
sadly i was wrong though, they are extemely rare , its looks as though i will for go that shampoo in my hair.

but those days they are gone now alas they're sadly missed, as she made a handy toilet too when i was busting for a piss.

(im refering to how much of a dirty cunt she was)