My Dear Kevin, Yo Brother, I’m Still Alive, Fuck it All, I don’t know how Cheryl + Keith got me thru but they did, lots and lots of blood. Curried muck, I cried buckets full.
I am banana (cos they’ve got no bones) manana (tomorrow) and all the rest yama yama. Suck your bus. Im full of emptiness and the pucker – lips nowt. I’m sane and know i know what I’m saying but am righting it down 2 U so you know it and oh how it has been and o’h how it is ‘cos I know you know. Had my phone stolen 2 months ago and don’t care. Take – no – log – ee and the rest of it.
Phew what I’ve been thru with the whore of evil bitches, alcoholic sluts and piss in my beauts. The soft south was always the wrong direction we always new. I’m a cunt, a concurrent sloop, dog eat god, good glod. loop the loop. pins. blew. The knots doing and undoing fornicating up the staircase if I’m a good lad this weekend. Stackwaddy. I’m not insane, only mental me. Metal mickey. Been inside-out and upside-down, ripped-up and torn around, no-one else could know, your Hong-Kong films X more than any of us could ever know.
Don’t wish I had a gun cos I could get one (several) just like that and would run rampage in Lincolnshire! Please tell everyone I’m not mad (i am) and tell them to send me – drugs, food, money, CD’s, tapes, records, Welshmen, problems, wenches, beans, cold god and flammable push-try’s. What The Fuck?. No it’s O.K. Everything is under control.
Just wanted to let you know I’m still mad, still here, still out there and no surrender, listening to Radio 4 in the car park beneath the trees of my mind. Diddle diddle dum, I am brum brum. Fuck the fucking fuckers I’m happy as a sky lark. Thats how darkies were born (Groucho Marx). Seen wide-open cunts and cum over Scottish knickers try it, it might do you good. Vodka and willpower got me through the darkest of darkest things I can not begin to tell you about, got the razor – blade scars deeper! I am about to jump but this time it’s into me, me, me. Not the savage darkness of slug – stretch – death. Sewage corpses drown in inhospitable shite, we both know that. O.K. I’m a tube. Fine. But I dont tell fibs. Wish you were here, pissed-up as I and laffing into the sky with me like fish, as the gulls give it to rock! Only us both as trolls grooving into death spasms.
As ever. Wot – nots. True proofs. 100%. And the rest, daleks and cybermen forth hexagonal. Send me Katy posters ‘cos I’ve not got enough to put on my walls but what I’ve got are ace. FUCKING AMAZING, send me anything. Paul X.
