Sunday, April 15, 2012

Tongbaed & Pricked

This is the end. There's no more recourse. No more lies; no more denials. 
No more blames. No more excuses. 
No more shenanigans. Time to let go. 
Time to draw the curtains and let them know the show's over. 
Done and dusted.
Play your games; your masquerades. Count me out. I'm having it no more. Time to unplug. Get real. This takes guts; what'd you know about it? You that play the clown and lick ass to get up to the rank and file. A bellyful of borrowed sycophancy keeps you filled to the brim.
The dead are remembered for their apparent niceness. 
Ye bloody hypocrites seek insurance. 
Biting more than you can ever chew; no wonder you go toothless.
Furnished legacies? What the fuck is that?
We have enough nuclear warheads: blow the shit! We're not deserving to be alive.
Come on you plumping Kim- press the goddamn button! 
I'll even pull yer overfed cheeks for ya. 
And Bad Ass Mother Fucking Journalists-
Sniff Around, Kick Ass That Needs Kicking Ass, Take Names That Needs Naming- 
Dig Deep & Keep Digging till you strike bold. 
If There’s a Lead Start Tailing It. 
If You’re on the Net Look Up Stories That Have Made a Difference. 
By all means, do some friggin' thing rather than planning your petty lil schemes. 
Get off the bandwagon of agendas. Make your pursuit of the truth fearless and relentless. Quit the bitching club. Put your goddamn money where your tongue is, swiftly.
Stop bending over. Seriously, how much buggering can ya possible put up with? 
Cut down on the arse licking; you'll run out of tongue, or be left one with a fuckin' bad odor.
Here's respite. 
If you get hounded, come over to the official site for the Intergalactic Association of Bad Assed Mother Fucking Journalists. 
Because we need another association of journalists, and this one's sole purpose is kicking ass and protecting one.
Half your life's done and dusted. Get serious about whatever little time you got left; ticking as we speak. 
Stop the hypocrisy- or go wallow with the hippos; neck deep and muddied, till they munch you in half as deserved. 
How many so called compromises will ya strike to further your narrow ends? 
The light at the end of the tunnel is a fucking freight train heading straight toward your assorted hoardings.
What have ya got to lose but your fears and your cowardice? 
One fucking life and you wanna live it cowering under the powers that be and take refuge in that "We are small fish" routine?

The ant troubles the elephant; as do mosquitoes the lion.
Everything is relative; but having said that, let's not forget- the fundamentals are everything. 
And we can always tell the Bull from the Shit.
Its really that simple.
Now you either do what you gotta do or stop quibbling. 
You can't have the momo and eat it with the doma, and while we're on the fooding analogy- do the Tongba. 
Its emptiness intoxicated.
No go do your thing; or die a nice fella who really did nothing in Life, as in Death.
I hope that Pricked!

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