Scotland yard bombing

Edinburgh 1978

Yorkshire pudding

Yorkshire 1969

Foundation

Seattle 1975

Down the line

Nashville 1977

Wierd exhibitionism

As i went through the gates to hell.


As i went through the gates to hell, i became aware of my dire situation. I realized that i had lived my life as i wanted, and now i was punished,not by Satan but by our loving God. The sky had turned into a dark crimson  color. The air filled with a demonic smell of burning corpses. Beneath my feet i could feel the heat rise up, from the ash grey soil. Standing before the fields of suffering, inhaling the hot air, looking at the endless rows of burning figures. Screams of pain and agony pierced the air, like a ice cold razorblade penetrating the flesh of a innocent victem. I Saw everything more clear than i had ever done before.CAN I GET A AMEN! .CAN I GET A HALLELUJA! Life feeds on life. As i looked towards the sky, i asked why!? And a scared and feeble voice awnsered: This is necessary! It was God. A scared and powerless being unable to control his own creations. In the next moment i felt a sharpened pole sliding through and mangeling my body. I felt the warm  pain spreading from cell to cell. My feet was catching fire. And rapidly, the fire moved up my body, inhaling the searing air... 
I woke up and ripped out my eyes.

                                                   The one who think, is a heathen.

Regarde Ma Merde

Alle har en blog.

Alle lukker lort ud i lårtykke stråler.

Alle omfavner selviscenesættelse.

Alle bruger tusindevis af ord på, at beskrive deres ligegyldige eksistens.

Jeg laver lort. 

Du laver lort.

Vi alle laver lort.

Alle har en blog.

´´Er livet en lort?´´ spurgte den lille dreng sagte, alt i mens han sad med to fingre i den varme suppe. Ingen svarede. Der gik et stykke tid for drengen igen spurgte´´ Er livet en lort?´´ Der var stadig ingen der gad, at svare på drengens lommefilosofiske  spørgsmål. Suppen var nu lunken og drenge var ikke længere en dreng; han var en mand. Manden vidste nu, at livet ikke var en lort. Eller det var ihvertfald hvad han troede, for hvad manden ikke vidste var, at han aldrig havde eksisteret i den verden han antog for virkelighed. Nej, han havde aldrig været vågen. Kold suppe. Manden var nu helt sikker på at, lorten var i live.

Ligegyldighed på ligegyldighed på LIG. Jeg oploader fra nu af stort set ingen tekst. Kun Billeder af min lort. Adjøh.

                                                            

REGARDE MA MERDE