Diary of a creative genius (for the past few months and why is this in English?)
Besides being a "god" fearing catkiller who's afraid his mum will die when she reads this although she might be writing this i'm also just an IT support person with a temporary burn-out just to get creativity going again and heading straight to Earth after staying in a prison on Mars for a while and seeing heaven through catseyes of some other god. Armed with my new clothes which my mum helped me pick its sure to be an easy ride heading to ground zero before all hell breaks lose and there will be nothing left (always pick left) for any dead body on this forgotten place in the galaxy wich is 80% blue, 10% green, 10% gray a little yellow and some other colors. So now that the rainbow is gone and the pigeon is dead my next mission is to break out of prison in a bookcase if the Germans or the Greek or incubus and succubus let me. Standing before so many trigulations and copies of copies of projects mayhem and hope I'll still be a fucking good IT soldier after I sit through this yet another great episode of Monty Python's flying circus. If you're taking photo's of this please send me a copy and you might even get laid before I turn blue and burn cities and whisper animals, control temperature, control the internet, overdose myself with coffee, live in the past, the future everything but the present, programme beautiful ugly music again, stand in front of the Spanish inquisition with the commies watching my ass get spanked and die for the 5th time this year.
That's three clean shots trough the head and now I will be calling my mummy again if we can have a nice family dinner after wich I'll be heading to the bar again where there will be a lot of gentlemen's agreements wich I will never understand fully. Cause when the clock strikes 23 or 46 or 92 it's time to go to bed or take a swim or plan a kill (or do all at the same time)
Remember to feed your cats on time.
Signing off and heading for the sun again or west or east or wherever there's beer.
Ain't much if it isn't Dutch.
Signing off.
Steelfinger
(suck my motherfucking dick and I hope things will start going wrong again before I lose "it".)