Entry: aeraegf
date: aefol
The
demons were nice enough to put me back together again and even
installed a quartz crystal into my pineal gland. Now i can pick up
community radio. Turns out they were nice guys, i just got put off by
their appearance and manner, what with the horns and horrendous
deformities, red skin and blazing eyes... And then there was the
incessant tortured screaming that will be forever burnt into my
superior temporal gyrus... but they cant help how they look and act i
guess. Really they were just looking out for my best interests... By
tearing me apart limb from limb, they were just trying to help me
dis-identify with my physical body and realise my essential nature.
Whatever that is... But im pretty sure it kind of tastes like a
watermelon jolly rancher. afterwards we had a beer and kicked back for
a bit, played some poker and listened to them bitch about their wives.
It was pretty cool. then we kind of got rowdy and did some poltergeist
karaoke at a strip club where all the strippers were ghosts... By then
it was late and the night sort of went downhill... i guess after
hanging out with them for that long, they became just regular dudes to
me and shit got uncomfortable... conversation dwindled, silences
lengthened, nervous galnces at the clock... So i made my excuses and
left. It was a fun night.
CHAPTER 2
I incubated as an egg in a tree stump on an unknown island in the
My memories of that night are not clear. While my peri-eggyscope was intact, I remember two dull thuds. Direct hits I surmise in retrospect. The lighting started failing as I watched my two parents embrace with their multiple arms... Although the submarines emergency sirens obscured his voice, I definitely saw my dad mouth the tender words ‘I fucking love you sexy ass dripping centipede bitch.’ And although the submarines emergency sirens obscured her voice, I definitely saw my mum mouth the words ‘Brreggghhh oaul klk pffftrrgh kltorhhhg klk klk.’ Dad intuitively grasped the internal meaning and they locked oral mandibles passionately.
They loaded me, egg and all into the torpedo loading mechanism. They each kissed me. Mum nuzzled my periscope with the kind of love and insect mucus that only mothers can give. Dad gave my periscope a stern handshake with all the stoic tenderness that only a repressed male father figure can withhold. They closed the door of the loading tube, which luckily was made of clear Perspex so I could still see out of it, back into the submarine. What luck! How convenient! Dad pressed the firing button and as I gathered velocity out of the vehicle, I watched an image that rapidly grew smaller and further away from me of my parents embracing and waving goodbye. As the image receded, I watched the now tiny walls of the submarine tiny interior collapsed in on them and tiny streams of water began to rush in from all tiny directions. I like to think that explains why I escaped the psychological scarring of such a tragic and traumatic experience, I simply didn’t get scarred cause when I watched it happen, it was on such a tiny scale that it hard to take very seriously. In fact watching my parents die in that size seemed almost hilariously comical, because they were so very, very tiny. And well, I guess that’s the sort of stuff that made me laugh at that age… Watching things change size, parents dying and so on. I mean it was like watching a flea circus from the back row of the stands. I expected cartoon kazoo music to kick in at any point. Suddenly the image disappeared completely. Blackness. Bad dramatic sentence structuring.
While my parents probably perished (or possibly, I like to think, were saved at the last minute by the lost civilization of AtlantisMorrisette who enthroned them insect king and insect queen.) I still remained reasonable optimistic. I had left home and was on my path to future fame and fortune. (clue to readers who are grieving over the noble dignified death of my parents: how would I have gotten the details in first chapter if both of them died? Wink x 2)
Chapter 3
I don’t know how long I floated in the ocean for. Shucks, when you only got a periscope seeing nothing but ocean to keep you occupied, you tend to lose contact with tangible reality. Tend to go a bit crazy. At one point I thought of draining the pacific and turning it into a gigantic skate park. But I realized that was ridiculous. I don’t even skate. Never have and Never will. Nor have i even ever had (or will have) the desire to. So why would I want to drain the pacific ocean for a reason that I don’t even support or identify with? What complete lunacy. Not to mention a practical and organizational nightmare. Then I started thinking, ‘then why did I think this?’(in reference to the skate park idea) That was something I could not answer with any level of satisfaction. Gradually as the paranoia, claustrophobia, cabin fever and habit of drinking seawater(just really liked the taste) set in, this original question ‘why did I think this?’(in reference to skate park idea) turned into ‘Which secret organization is planting these ideas via secret satellite into my head?’
My whole sense of time was distorted. On one hand while it was happening it felt like eternity to the power of infinite multiplied by 2, but when I finally ran ashore on the island, all I could think was ‘What? Already? That wasn’t long at all…' It was a pity I hit land at that point, as I was just beginning to enjoy myself. Part of me even wanted to somehow use my periscope as a sort of leverage device and push myself back into the ocean. I found the rocking motion quite comforting and reminiscent of the womb. That is if the womb was ice cold, turbulent during storms and full of sharks with gnashing teeth wanting to get to your soft insides but unable to pierce through your tough calcified shell.
But it was relaxing, rocking in the arms of mother ocean, at the whim of the currents… it gave me time to think and reflect on my life so far. I thought about where I came from and where I was going and tried to put things into perspective… my accomplishments, achievements, regrets and so on… Thought about my next move and Where I saw myself in five years time (King of the Omniverse, I was ambitious at that age)…
Anyway, I was washed ashore. I
sat on the sand for days… then I realized that my shell actually had
two tiny wheels that I could manipulate by spinning on the tiny
rotating stool in the centre of my eggroom. This of course led to
direction problems… Couldn’t really quite keep to a sharp direct line
since I was spinning constantly. But eventually I made it to a piece of
dry ground on top of a hill. Exhausted and dizzy, I passed out into a
feverish sleep, just a lone egg on a hill on an unknown island floating
somewhere in the
Chapter whatever the fuck im up to.
While I was asleep, a seed of a mighty Marbled Pine tree fell to earth on top of me in the vehicle of excrement, emitted from the colon of a Marbled Pine Cone Eating Wolverine. A strange animal, vegan purely on ethical and moral grounds. Wild, instinctual yet vaguely preachy and annoyingly self-righteous. Not to mention aloof. Possibly because it walked on stilts all the time.
(While this entire origin story up to this point might seem like incredibly random and improbable, it turns out that what happened to me in my formative years is actually just the typical yet highly specific breeding cycle for my species i.e Outcast Mutant Insect Parents attain tremendous wealth, and upon a chance meeting at a Barbados Calypso bar, fall in love and proceed to breed on board a submarine while trying to find a lost civilization at the bottom of a pacific oceanic trench, who are then sunk by torpedoes fired by an unknown enemy bearing a mysterious logo, forcing them to jettison their still egged young via torpedo tube into the murky depths of ocean where they are washed ashore upon an undiscovered island somewhere in the Sargasso sea)
Back to the seed. The seed sprouted into a sapling and as time passed and soil collected around and above me, that sapling grew into a towering tree. Meanwhile, sometime earlier on in this event, the wolverine had wandered off… Probably to eat some pine cones. ‘Mmm pine cones… gotta love dem pinecones! Tastes like respect for other living animals to me…’ I imagine he or she would’ve said, possibly grinning like a tarbaby (before you accuse me of being racist, I mean literally a baby made of tar, not the 1950’s horribly offensive not to mention outright racist mis-representation of a jungle bunny).
Anyway for some weird
reason, the xylem and phloem that transported the water in the ground
to the roots to the trunk of the tree had tremendous ambition. They
figured if they could transport water and nutrients to the tree, why
not a giant insect egg that had been floating in the ocean for an
undetermined length of time? Wouldn’t that make the rest of the forest
/other trees on that island seem like a bunch of fucking pussies. ‘Yeah that would show em’ the tree thought conspiratorially… “
Cant wait to see the look on their faces when I show em the egg in my
hollow.. “What now fellas? Am I a tree or a fucken chicken faggots?”
Unfortunately the only other tree on the island was a withered palm tree with a psychotic temperament, bad temper and a raging inferiority complex too boot. The Palm tree had always taken shit from the Marbled Pine Tree and it got to him. The Pine always called him names like ‘Monocotelydon’ and ‘Cheap tacky piece of tropical kitsch shit.’ Eventually the Pine snapped and hired a hitman to assassinate him. Unfortunately he couldn’t find one he could afford so eventually just hired a lumberjack to do the same thing but for half the price. The Marbled Pine was severed inches above the cavity where I was nestled and the lumberjack was paid in coconuts.
Chapter Hooesybutt
I sat in that fucking tree stump cavity for twenty one years before it occurred to me that I had the option of hatching. Which was a bitch cause I had done a lot of interior decorating in my egg and it seemed a waste just tear it down like that… But as some old wise dude once said to someone he was probably trying to fuck by impressing them with his wisdom, ‘Don’t get too attached to shit, sometime you got to tear down that awesome pad you made for yourself in that egg you live in so you can get some milk or phone credit from the shop down the road or some shit…’
Chapter 232
I punched a hole through the top of the shell and the light broke my eyes and burned memories of the holy visions of my destiny. Angel wings fell from the sky barbecued to perfection. Teensy tiny bits of god, battered and fried like pop corn chicken started hailing down from the skies… In gathered a handful and shoved them all in my mouth at once. Tasted like boiled shit. And there I was with a 5cent-a-cup lemonade stall, looking bored and resting my head on my hands.
Chapter 7 or 8 I’m guessing.
Man why are you still reading this? Don’t you have something better to do? Don’t you have a life to lead and loves to live out? Go out into the sunshine and drink God’s light. Talk to a friend. Call your parents. Make peace with your enemies. Learn to cliff dive.
Chapter 323
Wow, I have to admit, I’m really losing my enthusiasm for finishing this thing. Starting to think it’s a totally stupid idea and the writing is coming off as a really annoying shitty version Kurt Vonnegut. I mean it has definitely started to peter out. Still I feel compelled to continue to prevent myself from self-harm.
Chapter 324
I bought my personality off ebay for the lowest bidding. Cost me 5 coconuts. It came via carrier pigeon, in a clear glass ampoule attached to a massive yet aesthetically pleasing syringe. I injected it into my spine straightaway. On second thoughts, this first injection experience probably was what led to my future abuse of morphine. Associating that first needle injection experience with the euphoria of suddenly having an identity, some apparently solid yet totally amorphous thing that you all of a sudden had to defend and protect at all times to serve as a barrier between you and ultimate unity so you could function as a totally separate entity in a state of constant loneliness and despair was definitely positive reinforcement for my future narcotic habits.
Chapter 2351235
Then in 2003 decided to try stand up comedy blah blah blah etc. etc... and now im writing this sentence and so on.
TO BE CONTINUED
Blog 3
Datre: 238quebec00bc
Mysituation: I have no jobI keep talking about trying to get a job but then I get sidetracked by reading a popup book or an Italian vegetarian pop up cookbook and tehn I fantasise about cooking ratatouille for about 19 HOURS. Man this background music is too loud, im turning it off… BUT IT WONT TURN OFF CAUSE IT’S A HALLUCINATION cue laughtrack/women shrieking. I realize the only reason for me getting a job is me trying to learn to value free time again. And to also occupy the time I spend now watching myself divide in two so I can play conceptual table tennis against myself whichis futile CAUSE NOBODY EVER WINS. Just keeps going and going like neverending pong but shitter graphics. Someone eventually just loses the ball or puts a dent in it.
BLog 4
Date: YES PLEASE! (Cue laugh track, bells whistle, man on a hill cuts himself and smiles with relief)
Right now my head feels like skull all the way through. No brain, just skull. I’d break diamond and then use the coal in the centre to build my fossil fuel empire. Stick a dinosaur in the fireplace, fry up a haunchof stegosoreass, sit back and watch the tarantulas and tyranno-fascistsaurus sex each other until they catch fire.
Blog 5
Date: a kind of dried fruit popular in ancient
My gig calendar is looking sparse and threatening and I am rethinkiing the clichéd role of ‘struggling artist misunderstood by the general public.’ perhaps ‘lazy parasitic inconsistent shit’ is more appropriate this persecution complex getting old is an entirely poibntless exercise created so I can avoid doing shit. Oh my god I just realized thisblog is entirely pointless construct to ensure FURTHER PROCRASTINATION BUT IN A PUBLIC CONTEXT.
Blog 5 1/2
Date: arbitrary demarcation in time based on a consensus calendar based on the death of some dude with a beard. OHMYGODTHERES NO SUCH THING AS DATES FUCK JEESUS THAT MEANS THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS TIME
I realized though procrastination is my forte. I am working towards the ultimate procrastination. PROCRASTINATION ABOUT MY OWN DEATH. Just keep putting it off. then I live forever. FOREVER I TELLS YA. Oh my god I have stumbled upon tehs ecret of immortality. Just procrastinate the whole concept of aging. Keep putting off the wrinkles, dementia, hardening of world views and attitude, slowing of the metabolism and general physical decomposition… say to yourself with a lackadaisical grin, ‘I’ll decay later’… Maybe I should write a book about it later. It could be the next Secret, the enxt eternal fountain of youth. Then we can live in a perfect world full of eternally youthful layabouts doing absolutely nothing. Okay I have go and gaze at my navel now but later on in the future present. I saw spiral galaxies in there the other day. They were talking to each other, heres what they said:
SPIRAL GALAXY 1: Did you hear what colour saddle the horsehead nebula wore to the eclipse the other day?
SPIRAL ALXY 2: No. i don’t frequent those small type functions.
SP1: Why are you reading this drivel? Shouldn’t you be doing something else more constructive? I mean really are you that bored at work? What are you doing with your life? What drives you? What are your dreams? What keeps you going? What gets you out of bed in the morning.
SP2: I fucked that whore of a black hole 24Z-6CX7 the other day. Came space dust all over her outer circumference… Fucking slut had an event horizon the size of white dwarf.
SP1: Man I know this sounds weird but I’ve always wanted to know steven hawking would look like dressed as a white dwarf.
SP2: You sick fuck GET OUTTA MY OFFICE!
BLOG 5 2/3
Date: No thanks, I need space at the moment
I FELL OFF MY BIJKE YESTERDAY cause I didn’t trust myself. I couldn’t see the street and I swerved prematurely but If I had kept centred I wouldn’t have this vicious looking lump on my arm iom a fuckign IDIOT. But listen. I DON’T WANT YOUR SYMPATHY I WANT MY CHILDHOOD BACK.
Blog q23o08rouho3oqr
Gfiu3gi
In my free time I go dumpster diving out the back of
Blockalefj
Aarr
Today I realized really I don’t want to work. Work is just an avoidance of the ultimate boredom we all must face one day. Isn’t what most human activity is? Avoiding the boredom of doing absolutely nothing? Work, careers, jabberwocky polo, children, hunting, hunting children, scaffolding, crochet, croquet, crèche, crepes, fruche, fuchsia growing, ant farm relationships, war, death, famine, genocide, concentration camps… let me reason the futility of doing something all. It doesn’t get you anywhere except an illusion of movement. In the end we will all disconnect from these physical bodies and re emerse ourselves in the ocean of cosmic concioussness… oh my god I cant beleive I bought that shit some hippy wrote… Sometimes when you stare at this space inbetween space you can see faces and demons and thoughts that you don’t want to face floating up. But I realize I have been on the run long enough. I have to confront my demons that manifest in this limbo. This boredom, this gaping maw of inactivity is something someone has to face. And that someone is me. Im doing this for mankind. For everyone else. No im turning this into my mission statement, this lack of drive and niertia, this is my mission. Buddha sat under a tree for forty days and was enlightened after that. I’ve watched youtube for about that same amoundt of time, but no enlightenment came, just a gradually shortening attention span and dreams filled with images of weird midgets fighting and gg allin hentai snuff porn that take too long to load.
Blog 13451235
Date: Colloquial slang term for anus
I enjoy walking the streets and talking to myself, but unfortunately I cannot be paid for that. In medieval
NICK SUN AVOIDING THE PRACTICAL REALITIES OF LIFE FOUNDATION at gees I cant really give you an address can i? that is a gross violation of privacy. well if you are really interested, email me and I will arrange to meet you on a shady backlit street corner wearing a red carnation condensed milk tin through my lapel. I will of course give you something in return, a personalized gift, a magic charm, a slap in the face and vision of paradise that kind of resembles sesame street on fire.… I will provide an address soon though, I am deadly serious. The more free time I got on my hands the more jewels of online literary brilliance I can churn out.
Blog 342
Room: 23
A love conversation I overheard from two walkietalkies on my way to an imaginary pig.
- Moomintroll to Snufkin, are you there? Are you there?
- Snuffkin to Moomintroll read you loud and clear.
- Moomintroll to snuffkin – where have the memories gone?
- Snuffkin to moomintroll – I dunno.
- Moomintroll to snuffklin- its like I cant even picture your face anymore.
- Snuffkin to Moomintroll – thtas probably cause I don’t have a face… not since the fire… also you don’t have any eyes, or visual memories for that antimatter…
- Ah yes tahts right, all I see is ambiguous shapes in the blackness. I miss you Snuffkin. What we have is so tender, your eyeless gaze so soft in the fevered night.
- If I could stick my proboscis through this goddman piece of of outmoded technology and suck the lymph from your glands, I would. Believe me. If you had lymph.
- That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard.
(TENDER MOMENT OF DEAD SILENCE)
- is this the real thing or just another mirage?
- Everything is real in the moment. Lets just go with it and treasure it while it lasts.
- Oh god yes.
- Lets not grasp, lets not think about how the future might turn this sweet yoghurt into nothing but stinking sour filth. Lets not think about the flock of the deformed retarded children, thirty years of icy silence and the biochemical warfare. Lets live for the moment!
- Yes! lets mix static.
(THEY KISS. Camera pans up towards the starry night. Hawaian guitar orchestra plays backwards. Somewhere a crackhead spontaneously bursts into flowers)
Brik
Blog 3413413
Date time: now
Hello is anyone out there? Oh god sometimes I just feel so… so alone… and its like oh god the desperation and oh god. Oh god no!! oh SHIT! HOLY FUCK IT’S THE DEMONS, THE DEMONS ARE COMING FOR ME! OH GOD THEY ARE TEARING SHREDS OF FLESH FROM MY BODY AS I DESPERATELY TRY TO TYPE….MUST… FINISH…BLOG… OH GOD THEY JUST TORE OFF MY GODDAMN FOOT GAH! OH GOD GET THEE BACK TO HELL FOUL SATAN SPAWN! ARRRRRRGGGHHHH! AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH! ARRGH FUCK! SHIT OH GOD WHY? WHY O WHY ME? OH MY GOD THEY ARE DEVOURING MY FLESH RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY EYES… …CAN…ONLY..TYPE..ALENFLHJ-9—[AEFAC…… SHIT THERE GOES THE OTHER FOOT! AND OH GOD! THAT’S MY WHOLE FUCKING LEG! NO! NO! NO! NOT MY LEFT, THAT’S MY FAVOURITE! TAHTS MY FUCKING INSTEP YOU EVIL PIECES OF SHIT… AAARRRGHHH I JUST TRIED TO SMACK ONE DOWN USING MY TORN OFF LEG AS A CLUB! GAARKKK! THERE GOES THE ARM HOLDING THE OTHER LEG, NOW THEY ARE BEATING ME WITH THE LEG BEIGN HELD BY THE ARM EBIGN HELD BY TEHM OHHH THE IRONY!AAARRHRHHGHH UHHH THEY ARE TEARING OUT MY GUTTS NOW! OH GOD WHY DO THEY CALL THE SMALL INTESTINE SMALL WHEN ITS SO FUCKIGN LONG? HUH? WHATS THE DEAL WITH THAT? AND THE SPLEEN? I JUST VENTED MINE…LITERALLY! THERE GOES MY TORSO…OH GOD JUST MY UPPER ARM AND NECK AND HEAD… THERE GOES THE ARM… MUAGHT TIP WIT TOONGGUE NOWW… LOOSIN BLLUDD LOOTSSS NOT LOG NOEAAHHH TEY TER OT TOONGUE! MUST TYP WT NNOSS…WOW I CAN TYPE REALLY COHERENTLY WITH JUST MY NOSE, WHO WOULD OF EVER THOUGHT OF IT…AWH NA NOS N OW, JUS EEBROW.AOHALHK78907[0-9U7097)^*$36AL)&)&KS FNHALIHK AAARRGH AAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHAAEK{i(_*H
EALAE HLAKEJ KLENT/AE T42T890 Y24T3 eu 3h ohlhlaLJLAEJN ELANLFECSTASISATEOJL
BIO
CHAPTER 1
My physical vessel was conceived on the back of a flatbed truck, sunk deep within the arms of a gigantic sarcophagus within a submarine traversing a deep oceanic trench somewhere in the South pacific. My parents were looking for the lost civilization of Atlana-itis Morrisette.
All they found was each other.
In the pitch black watery
depths, with only the bioluminescent light-emitting organs of the deep
sea fish and my father’s head strapped miner’s lamp to serve as
makeshift replacement romantic candle mood lighting too many words were
used unnecessarily here, my father deftly maneouvred his thoracic
tentacles and neatly deposited his sperm package into my mothers
eagerly awaiting cloaca. ‘So much for cabin fever huh babe?’ grimaced
my dad, as he wiped the breeding slime from his mandibles and lit a
cigarillo. Dad had both the demeanour and looks of Harrison Ford as
All they found was each other.
okay any quiestions lemme knwo!
My Blog
ENTRY DAte: 34/2/008
deer whoever is reading this for whatever reason(bored at job, rapbidly obsessed with me umm random link shit WHAT THE FUCK) im deciding to write me a blog and get involved with technology and probably going to get my mysissyspacek page going to. Wait, the music is too loud and I cant concentrate.
Okay I turned it off. I will try not to fall into the trap of writing about boring shit like you care or something…
Okay okay start again. Here is why im starting a blog. I cant get any gigs anymore. The Auostracistationalienation scene is small enough but when you aer as CUTTING EDGE and CONTROVERTIBLE and THREAT TO THE SYSTEMY as me(or maybe unreliable(this is a lie), unpredictable(bullshit), self- indulgent(ok sometimes) is a more accurate description), the small number of possible gigs gets even smaller… as a result im writing a blog cause I don’t have a job atm and I need something to justify the waste of space and time I seem to take up. Also apparently someone told me that I should try and cultivate some sort of ‘grass roots level cult audience’. So uh this is what im doing as of now… So if you would like to join my ‘cult’, please send food or money or monkeys with keys to the royal palace metaphysical that is to my email account at ugh@alumnidirector.com
Like wise if you want to send fanmail(haha)/hatemail/emotionally ambiguous mail to me feel free to.
I will get a mailing list, once answeringf indivuidal qqueries gets too inconvenient, then I can write group emails that seem highly impersonal about shit that most of you probably wont turn up to.
Here is an update on whats on the menu next for Nicktron 6660(i.e. future me)
- Attempting to set up an anarchic carcrash variety night that I will host somewhere in
- I will publish a manifesto of this club. Mostly cause I like writing manifestoesys.
Oh also if you are a comedian and you wish to apply– this is not a standup comedy room! Im sick of standup, so only if you are kickass or suck so hard it’s a joy or have a mental illness that is entertaining to watch (or if I owe you) will I put you on… any one doing hack ethnic material or observations about men and women can fuckoff… that’s my schtick…
So to recap: NO HACKS ALLOWED. i love how im actually talking about this like its real already, like I said im looking for a venue… that involves me walking around the inner west during my loads of free time trying to stop my head from going BANG BANG ! FUCK YOU DIE DIE! DIE SCUM OF THE EARTH DEVILS BREASTFEEDING ME SOUR MILK And then I find myself outside a inner west pub where I wonder in and ask them if they got a stage and bridges to burn.
Hahaheeow ow! Ow! FUCK!
Lovenickx
Blog 2
Date: 2st of august 1833
Hi deer readers, well its my second blog and I dunno what to really bore you with. Oh I thought about this for an idea. If any of you wish to email me with your problems, I will start an agony aunt style coloumn that I will post on my page or something, in many ways I am like an oracle who offers unpractical advice delivered in a tone of smug self assurance like I know what the fuck im doing… but it might be FUNNY and we might get EMOTIONALLYTITTILATED(heheh).
Okay ehre is something I thought about the other day. I will be walking in the street in public somewhere and someone will look and smile at me for absolutely no reason, like they know me… then the paranoid self obsessed part of me will think that they have seen me at a gig somewhere… which then gives rise to the question ‘was I good or did I suck?’ which then gives rise to me trying to mathematically calculate the odds of that thus realizing how inconsistent I have been gigwise lately which then pisses me off…and trying to remember if I remember seeing their face in the crowd… So if you are one of these people and you happen to be reading this, it would be nice if you could tell me what your motives were… the other option is that maybe they are just happy members of the global community tyring to spread goodwill to random people on the street… which in effect i guess is a reflection of how deep the chasm between intention and effect can sometimes be… SO PLEASE STOP SMILING AT ME, actually, no the smiling is nice or if you do smile at me, post smile, please STATE IN A CLEAR VOICE YOUR MOTIVES FOR SMILING AT ME SO WE CAN COME TO A CLEARER UNDERSTANDING OF EACH OTHER.
Jah bless
ncikdfaklnlkanhwepfnh
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
TGHE NICK SUN FAQ
1 Was that a spelling mistake in teh first word of the title of this FAQ?
yes
2 Will there be lots of spelling mistakes in this website?
Possibly
3. Is this Nick Sun writing these things querstions in thrid person right now?
Yes.
4. Are these really questions that are asked freqently enough to warrant an FAQ
Ummm perhaps
5. This seems like a very contrived attempt at appearing whacky. Would you agree?
Yes.
6. Is it because now that teh festivals are over adn you ahve moved back into your parents house and am still unemployed and in general a bum without a direction in life and you ahve way too much free time to languish on pointless exercises such as this one that you are doing right now as we speak?
Umm i guess so
7. Where is this going?
IU dunno
8. Why did you just change font?
i pressed some weird button adn it just happened.9. Are yuou really shit with technology?
yes. I dont trust computers. they will take over mark my words. i saw some documentary about it and it scared teh shti out of me. it was called 'terminator two.'
10. was that a joke?
i dunno depends whether or not you laugh. why dont you get the fuck out of my head man withthe questions?
11. im not sure if i can. now you ahve asked me a question and yet i am supposed to be asking teh questions and now i will be left with replying wiht a statement whihc invaluidates what im supposed to be doing. Would you agree with that?
Agree with what?
12. Agree with umm fuck! see no yhou just srpung another querstion with me, you cant reply to my questions with more questions it leaves everyhign unaswerable. doesnt it?
Why?
13. I must wrestle the control back in my favour otherwise this answering guy will ahve won the power and somniant role in this FAQ. WOULDNT YOU AGREE?
Why did you just use caps then?
14. it was an accident. it was not supposed to emphasis the question biut
Are you going to edit this?
15.No. Wait wasnt i supposed to be asking the quewstions here?
16. haha i have usurped yhou. havent i?
Why do you have such clumsy fingers adn typing skills?
17. This is getting boring. i might contuinue this someother time. wouldnt you agree?
yes. i would. this has answered nothing. why do the public wnat to know things about me anyway? who the fuck do they think they are? dont they realise this constittuetes an invasion fo privcay?
18. dont act like you dont enjoy the attention on some level though. hyposcrite...
okay yes i know i know I AM A FUCKING HYPOCRITE. I AM A FRAUD. PLEASE DONT BELIEVE ANYTTHING I SAY ITS A LL A LIE. THIS WEBSITE IS A LIE. THIS INTERNET THING IS A LIE. NONE FO THESE QUESTIOSNA RE EVER ASKED FREQUENTLY INFACT BNEFROE WRITING THIS NONE OF THESE QUESTIONS WERE EVER ASKED BEFORE... IN TRUTH LADIES ADN GENTGLEMEN I AM CONFUSED AND LOST AT THE MOEMNT PLEASE I NEED HELP ! I ALREADY WASTE TOO MCUH TIME AS IT IS, AND NOW I AM STUCK TRYING TO PUT THIS INTERNET SITE TOGETHER I GUESS CAUSE EVER SINCE THE FESTIVALS ARE OVER I GOT NOTHING TO DO ADN CAUSE AUSTRALIA IS GEENRALL A SHIT PLACE TO MAKE A LIVING AS A COMEDIAN UNLESS YOU HAVE A MASSIVE MEDIA PROFUILE THAT RELIES ON MASS APPEAL, I AM FORCED TO MOVE BACK INTO MY HOUSE EAT ADN AHTE MYSLEF ADN TEHN WRITE MATERIAL THAT I CANT EVEN BEGIN TO TYR OUT CAUSE THERE ARE NO ROOMS IN SYDNEY WITHTHE EXCEPTIO FO A FEW...
19. WAS THAT outburst genuine or an exxaggerated plea for attention?
the latter. i have nothig to complain about. im not living ont eh streets and I DONT HAVE LEPROSY OH GOD FUCK THIS SECURITY AND COMFORT THING IS OPVER RATED I GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE
20. okay we are wrapping this little humdinger up right now....
whjew. is this faq going to be continued?
21. i guess so. maybe i dont know. i tend to lose interest in things quickly. im great at starting things but then i i just sorta dont give a shit,. so yheah maybe i will maybe i wont whats it to you? HUH? MUTHA FUCA>?