As I sit and watch the world go by I wonder, ponder and consider the delights it offers. Delights that make the world of adultery run for sure, most of them x-rated and advertised par excellence. Ain't it extreme what people accept for a phony excuse of human interaction.
I roll my head from side to side as I consider the extraordinary pleasures, so expansive that even those short of money buy with their last dime. A grave of money it is the pleasure industry, x marks the spot where they all will end up after... My fist hits the wall as jumb forward. A axehandle hole forms as the wall gives in to my powerful stroke. Blood splatters accentuate the nearly round opening that sends my mind to exactly those uxorious calls of the gutter, that follow even the most serene moment - nobody is save anymore.
All is their fault, their fault, those pretencious guys on screen with their peasized minds and oxtails which make a decent guy feel like shit. Let's x-ray them, dissect them down to their bones and make them show what little boys are made of. Well ain't it pure joy to watch all those starved bitches watch them smile through their excruciating little deaths. Takes no skill at all. It is my pleasure that takes skill. Real talent really, dexterious fingers and quick reflexes all through the night.
Clear the decks!
Oh yes I clear the desks... my dexterious little master. Everybody gets what they deserve in the night where all cats are grey, screams of excruciating pain simply vanish into the abscence of light.
The vile rodents are looking for mates. How many x-rays does it take until death knocks on the door? How long will the creature live if the oxtail is hacked off and fate left alone to care for the remains? Watch, nothing to do but watch to figure it. Observe, uxorious one must be in devotion to a masterpiece left to be completed.
Time it takes, so much time and dedication, yes, to accentuate each tiny detail... arrange the masterpiece, yes... yes, place a black flint in the axehandle hole of red.Exactly like that the flint, the x that marks the spot. Funny thought really, most treasured think lost yet the bitches won't cry, nobody will, no, no... precious masterpieces like this are expansive.
Rarity makes them even more sought out. No reason to hide it display the extraordinary depiction of how it should be, teach them how all man will truely be equal. Some intentions take extreme measures to pave them into the heads of mundane minds. Oh, look at the excellence of the red circle outline. So beautiful, beautiful red, red, roses on the floor. In all channels tommorow, at all times, my masterpieces displayed all over the city, not x-rated, like the old master with a wonderful twist of flint.