sexywithin

Fingertip Mind Junky Jibe
By: Sir Jed Taylor
Grimly Fiendish, UK


The heavy trumpet sound of a violent chef at 3:00 a.m. was never required for the taste of an Albanian monkey fighter; still he carried on as if his sleeve was never on fire.

Jumped up on crystal meth, and oozing out of his trousers, was a fear no worse than dolphin fire in the mid morning blue. With a freshly lit cigarette to your lips and the damp musk of a 1am disco slut, plucked from a darkly lit night club... in where the seething desperate middle-aged man will drink, flaunting his arms in a wedding dance style disco trance.

The techno fear was coming on strong. Drugs were yielding at my justice, and don't even get me started on the seventeen 'catch me if you cans' splashed across the bar like a bleating flock of sheep on death's door…

''Good Jesus, you stupid fool!" With this, I whisked away his lighter and clumped him round the back of the turnip. "Are you fucking mad, you nazi? You'll kill us all, you dirty great fiend…"

Prior to our visit to the abdomen of the Thursday night chicken ranch, we were on trail for some of the most finest Columbian disco snow that our hard earned crispy fresh queen stained currency could buy…

But, when soaked in unleaded petroleum and a head full of dino fucked mind candy, the human brain can only take so much.

The lesson here is simple:

If you had the time to read this whole story of fingertip mind junky jibe, then, my friend, you have wasted your time… for I have lost interest in writing anymore. Perhaps it's time for a pint.

Farewell.