the gospel according to ignatius pop (chapter III, verse 6)

i was riding on a concrete slab, down a river of useless flab it was such a beautiful day i heard a witchdoctor say, "i'll turn you into a toadstool" i'm looking for the joke with a microscope my muscle's twitching on your words if you're on the streets you lose your nerves divinity throws you a curve sticks you and then you go beserk abhoaring no inspiration. i'm looking for the joke with a microscope page out of a comic book a chicken hanging on a hook a river and a babbling brook a sermon and a teenage hook shaking my hand at your fake face a suicide a certain look a microphone a loose guitar people feeling near and far stupidity a mental scar put cruel into cruelty as life goes by you in a blurr an achoholic has gone far everything just goes to far i was pissing on the desert sands, when the desert whispered to me, "damn! isn't this a shame? things will never be the same..." i run this gas and oasis now i'm looking for the joke with a microscope i was a teenage dinosaur, stoned and obsolete i didn't get fucked and i didn't get kissed i got so fucking dense using my head for an ashtray now i'll tell you who i am i'm the repo-man and i'm looking for the joke looking for the joke i'm looking for the joke with a microscope

MnM (MORE AND MORE)

academy 23

And now I have something to say to all you angle boys of the cosmos who thought you had an in with the Big Operators — ‘Suckers! Cunts! Marks! — I hate you all — And I never intended to cut you in or pay you off with anything but horse shit — And you can thank The Rube if you don’t go up with the apes — Is that clear enough or shall I make it even clearer? You are the sucker cunts marks I invented to explode this dead whistle stop and go up with it —

bad taste

TARGET_1

NO FUN