... blong?
Monday, June 13, 2005
Punk
The average blogger, I suspect, types his posts out with a keyboard. None of that for me. I am in fact shouting this through a megaphone for some sellout to type up, whilst simultaneously injecting beer through my eyeballs and overthrowing the government.
That's right. I can overthrow the government from the comfort of my own home, through sheer willpower. Not that I believe in homes of course - they're symbolic of those middle-class commercialised bastards.
Society will soon crumble, from the combined mind-chaos of us elite few punks. Anarchy shall prevail; the streets will be filled with the joyous shouts of those we have saved from the disease that is capitalism. People will smash up guitars on the pavement, and throw TVs out of windows. Entropy and Disorder shall prowl the streets in their uniform of spiky leather jackets and unconventional haircuts.
The sidestream movement that is punk shall remain underground no longer. We are rising from the ghetto.
Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
Look how awesomely wasted I am. Examine my inability to string together coherent sentences without mentioning the word "punk". Inspect my disrespect for society. Analyse how unique my punk spirit is, and ponder over the fact that only punks are individuals.
Check, in short, my bad self.
Yeah.
That's right. I can overthrow the government from the comfort of my own home, through sheer willpower. Not that I believe in homes of course - they're symbolic of those middle-class commercialised bastards.
Society will soon crumble, from the combined mind-chaos of us elite few punks. Anarchy shall prevail; the streets will be filled with the joyous shouts of those we have saved from the disease that is capitalism. People will smash up guitars on the pavement, and throw TVs out of windows. Entropy and Disorder shall prowl the streets in their uniform of spiky leather jackets and unconventional haircuts.
The sidestream movement that is punk shall remain underground no longer. We are rising from the ghetto.
Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
Look how awesomely wasted I am. Examine my inability to string together coherent sentences without mentioning the word "punk". Inspect my disrespect for society. Analyse how unique my punk spirit is, and ponder over the fact that only punks are individuals.
Check, in short, my bad self.
Yeah.
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