Offerings to the Goddess of Irony
9447 words

So long as you are indignant about your suffering, so long as you maintain that you do not deserve to suffer, so shall you suffer.

Your life is not complete until you've kicked a sloth in the balls.

Ever since I was a boy I have felt a strong association towards symbols. I now carry with me a pendant of a toilet seat as there is little doubt that this is the most spiritually significant icon of the modern era, of absolutely unparalleled beauty.

I'm sick of the mysticism surrounding the Ancient Egyptians. Suspend your occult tendencies and let's get real for a moment: that's a basement with a pile of rocks on top. Some people think aliens helped them... with what exactly? PILING ROCKS? Are you serious? So you're saying that aliens achieved intergalactic travel, hurtled billions of miles through space, avoiding black holes, asteroid fields, enduring extreme temperatures, radiation, etc, only to help a bunch of primitive, superstitious apes pile rocks? That's your theory? You people are insufferable.

I am ashamed to share a genome with a species literal enough to think piling rocks is a meaningful endeavor. And guess what? You're still doing it! They're gonna dig up the mummified corpse of Jeff Bezos' in a couple thousand years, buried under a pile of hookers, and even then there will be people who think E.T. was somehow involved.

When a senior bishop died and went to St Peter's gate, St. Peter said to him, "Welcome bishop! You have lived a good and devout life. We have prepared your place in paradise." The bishop was concerned and replied, "St. Peter, but what about the poor souls suffering in hell, surely my place is ministering to them?" St. Peter responded, "My good bishop, what would be paradise without hell to look down upon?"

I am the only, lonely one
And all of this is just for fun.
Last night I found my father's gun,
You couldn't hide, you couldn't run.
I put it up against my head,
Pulled the trigger, now you're all dead.
For in this lonesome heart of mine,
So do you live, so do you die.

My audience and I are in perfect agreement: I don't write the sort of shit they read and they don't read the shit I write.

Suicide isn't sad or shameful. Having no will to die is no way to live. Courage. That's the first virtue, without which no others are possible. The courage to live is the courage to die. All else is suspended animation, serfdom if you like. What is truly sad is to wish you were dead without the determination to see it through. To live for fear of death is a miserable illusion. Only once you understand that you live for death itself, by death, through death, can you begin to appreciate life.

There's nothing inherently bad or wrong about rumination [untold power]. That's where lessons are learnt after all, including this one. The problem is that it's addictive.

Some people hoard experiences as greedily as gold.



  1. A person who believes that people are cunts and seeks to prove it by being the biggest cunt of all.
  2. A person who mistrusts everything but mistrust (or a person who trusts in mistrusting).

Babies are not well balanced
So don't rest them on banisters!
Just ask my mother
About my brother
(His name was Allister)

Crocodiles make great pets, unless
You're awful fond of your feet.
Lord knows, I've lost several toes
To that scaly beast.

Down is up if you're upside down,
I tried it once in a dressing gown.
The gown fell down around my head,
Luckily, my roommate was still in bed.

Sometimes houses talk to you
And sometimes not
But it's generally true
That when they do,
They put you on the spot.

Poets are so serious
& often quite imperious.
Feelings! Feelings! Meanings! Meanings!
Mean the feelings, feel the meanings -
I think they're just delirious.

Energy you waste on stupid shit is a net loss for us all.

I've said this every which way now but I think it's important so I'll say it again. Stuff perpetuates stuff. If you do bad stuff you must continue doing bad stuff in order to justify doing bad stuff. 'Cause you're just a big ol' baddie! Ooooh, I'm shaking already.

Sylvia stubbed her toe and so she killed herself to spite her coffee table.