Paddy’s Birthday

Hello again, weirdos! It’s me, the one who writes the things which must never be read, and adds to the words sounds which must never be heard. There was once a one called Paddy, but he went away. Then he came back! But then he went away again. He too was possessed of the drink of the cactus practice, and thus spewed forth an occasional disaster. Suffice to say, those too will appear in the Spac Hole one day, once they have passed sufficient quarantine. Here then is one of my dedications to him. Remember this- that viewing these words will likely cause a curse to befall you and your’s and that your fabrics will yearn endlessly to hear the accompanying sounds. Visit the Spac Hole on the you tube for some relief, as the sounds will one day soon make a deadly appearence there. But, for now:

Hello Paddy.

I hope you are having a pleasant day.

I don’t want to spoil your fun, but, I have come for your soul.

Happy Birthday, Paddy.

Have some presents.

Merry Christmas too, you dirty, filthy scumbag.

This is a gift; I hope you like it.

If not prepare to die you ungrateful ass.

I’ll clucking kill you.

Yeah.

Understand you are going to die.

Tonight.

I am in The Shadows.

I am in The Mist.

I am what the insane fear.

I am

Behind you.

Hi I’m Stacey.

I am singing very badly.

I’m dressing up as Lara Croft, mummy!

I like to spend my time in the toilets;

Andrew calls them traps.

I hope I get to play Street Fighter tonight, yes yes.

I am Ryu!

Hadouken baby!

Flawless victory.

I bet you are laughing cos I’m a clever, funny boy.

Oh yes.

This song is now over, thankfully as I’m bored of it.

Have you finished your supper?

Link to the past it up!

You may hear laughter and wonder from where it comes.

It is you.

Laughing at yourself from an asylum you will soon inhabit.

4:00 am Sounds

‘Mummy, Andrew’s stuck in the cupboard’
‘Uh’
‘KILL YE! KILL YE! YE!’
‘Look at me or I’ll kill ye.’
(Cupboard/Uh/Kill ye remix)
‘Look at me! Look at me or I’ll Kill Ye!’
(Repeats avec ‘look at me/c’me here’)

Additionally, here is a link to some ‘music’ to accompany these glorious words:

Season In The (Sun) Abyss. Land Of Ire.

Summer time is upon us.    Rejoice!                                                                                                                                    Pretty boys are in short skirts, bees are chasing children, and everywhere the sunshine smiles.                                                                                                                   Where do you going for your holiday vacation?                                                                 Hawaian?American?                                                                                                                          Spainan?           Carribea?                                                                                                                                  Those are all a good, but a better good is on your doorstep.      Yes.                                                                                                                                            Ireland. Come To Ireland.                                                                                                  There is a North and a South, but no West or East, except in Belfast (which is not right).                                                                                                                                             The land of Leprachauns.                                                                                                        The land where giants cause ways and sheep are better than women.             Visit our famous cities: Newtownards, Portavogie, Aughnacloy, and now Strabane!                                                                                                                                       Come on on in and see what we bees havin for ye.                                                 Sights which your eyes will not believe and your eyes will not stomach.                                                                                                                                    There is the Scappo Tower, The Mourning Mountains, Jesus and Goliath where the big ship disaster was made.                                    

Kiss the Bloody Stone and get three wishes and leprosy.                                      Also, with added tramps, the walled village for Londerrydon. Lododnerry. Derrylon. Londodnerry- I don’t know- the place which is not a place.       

You too can throw brick at the RUNI.                                                                              

We have many famous and not welcome people, like Julian- now on the UTV, heart surgeon Dr. Paisley, local buffon Stephen Carton, and visit the grave of the best footballer of ever- Donald Goalposts.                                                            Yes, we have all the things; Sun, Sea, no Sand, and Sexies.                                                                                                                                         Come to Northern Ireland. Come To Southern Ireland. Come To Here-Land.