dinsdag 3 maart 2009

Cockroach Army / The Elephant Man / Cobweb Execution or Inevitable Suicide?!








Jaggedone's as you all know ol St.Jagged and his metally ol WAN-KIN-DIK love a bit of ol metal music and tends to cyber drift off to his favourite forum to confront other fans of the one and only innovative, metal, fantastic band called TOOL.

Now due to the fact that St.Jagged tends to be a bit "wayward" in his views, this obviously leads to conflict with some other indoctrinated, narrow - minded, dogmatised Tool fans surfing the same forums (not all by the way!).

Below, Jaggedone's you can read some responses written by ol St.Jagged to these rather odd specimens of the human race of which they spit, shit and crap upon whilst ol St.Jagged laughs all the way to the bog with his ol mate WAN-KIN-DIK singing a merry ol Tool tune called Stinkfist (nothing to do with the way he wipes his bum by the way or lack of bog paper in the Jagged household, recession is biting and we are down to our last 1965 copies of the Sun, Daily mirror and the scratchy Times, they only write a load of shit anyway!).


The pictures above will give you all a rough directive of what the subjects discussed were about, have a lovely Jagged ol time scratching your balls and wondering what the fuck the "Mad Hatter" from Jaggedworld is on about, read on my beloved one's:

The Cockroach Army and The Elephant Man
The creator unleashed his fury in the form of his Cockroach Army on the blistering desert wastelands of the human mind after observing the destruction and rape of his once so imperfect planet.Observing from his lofty heights a solitary tear slowly trickled down his barren, boned cheek, "oh God (who?) what have I done" as the ravaging army of cockroaches forcibly entered the human minds with only one objective, DESTROY without redemption.The Creator realis (z)ing that there was no return, no present and no forward took the ultimative apocolyptic decision to annihilate his own creations before they in turn destroy his initial creation, his blue imperfect planet.The devastation was complete with only skeletons surviving the savage attacks of the black, multi legged, razor sharp teethed beasts from hell (where?) left to smoulder in the raging heat of the sandy deserts within the human minds.The creator wished no signs of human existence to be spared as his second attack of blood sucking maggots and leaches swarmed the starched skeletons devouring their bones and leaving no visible signs of the human race ever having populated his so imperfect creation, except one, perfection in imperfection, The Elephant Man.Redeemed because of his beauty, his elegance, his intellect, his grace, his manners, his caring, his understanding, his survival, his torment, his enslavery, his normality, his existence between those who thought they were perfect, his survival between those who thought they were powerful and those who discriminate against others who are different, his ability to see from within the mirror, his gift of listening to the beautiful silence, behind the sack with two slits hidden from those perfect beings who observed the observer and suffered for their ignorance."My task is complete" the Creator thought, silently in his lofty heights above his so imperfect creation, nothing can destroy the beauty, only itself, will determine its fate from within the perfect beehive shaped caverns what will be or not?
Cobweb Execution or Inevitable Suicide?
PS:Unaware of its ultimate destiny the PREY in its frenzied, pathetic, attempts to escape from the intricate, perfectly spun cobweb is doomed, whilst the slumbering Predator remains in his dormant state, receiving only the vibrations transmitted from the futile attempts of escape by it's catch.Time passes, the thrashing, uncontrollable movements increase into a final, desperate attempt to flee, entwined and in panic the final breaths of suffocation, pulsating, send known vibrations to the slumbering, waiting Predator, "it will be soon" he thinks "no need for PREDATORIAL VIOLENCE, just a waste of breath."The drama reaches it's ultimate, callous scene as all vibrations cease, deathly silence, clinical murder without a trace or just one more inevitable suicide? Awaking from his slumber the Predator approaches his lifeless PREY and devours with pleasure, leaving no traces of a crime scene, just the perfect, inevitable suicide.
Hopefully you can all plough through the twisted psyche of the one and only, very sad St.Jagged and come up with a solution what the fuck he's on about / Goodbye from St. Jagged sucking his victims blood dry, strung up on a balancing act somewhere between silk lace stockings and the spiders pubic hairs!!! (dirty muvva fuckers!)

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