dilluns

b.l.’s b.s.













b.l.’s b.s.











Said professor Gratulls, the famous aphorist:






“–There are some assholes full of cant that equate Bush with America.
Their betters of course equate a bush with a merkin – sick paradigms of
another faltering cunt.”







“–Who’d be stupid enough to try to export a “democracy” who produces
as its head honcho a bloody bully of a baboonish cunt such as Bush, his
mandrill behind prodded by a sinister vampire who seems doggedly
determined to die with the earth itself...?”








* * * * *







Said the famous aphorist, professor Gratulls:







“–When shit equals bush, nothing else matters but your sanity.




Nothing really signifies anything; everything just happens; bush
happens; shit happens;
and that’s it.



Shit never ceases happening; get used to the idea.



Now scram, bums; and make yourselves useful; (…); amend that, make
something useful, not of yourselves (what good would that do in a world
where shit happens and will keep on happening, willy-nilly, in spite of
all your efforts and more…?,) but for yourselves.”







* * * * *







Said the famous professor, aphorist Gratulls:







“–I’m extremely shallow – three goals I’m only after: the continuance of
life, the enjoyment of liberty, the pursuance of happiness.”






“–There’s the fuckers and there’s the fucked. Both despicable failures as
trials go – as trials for the well-adjusted organism that nature seems to
be trying to produce. And then there’s the gray people – they only think
about fucking each other – like doves.”





“–See above the waters the spectral specter crossing the spectrum. It is
an idyll of the minnows. Brief interlude. After the orgasms, steeped in
grudges, she slunk along the curb, the coughing ghost of a sick bitch.”








* * * * *







Said the famous Gratulls, aphorist and professor:






“–As soon as you hear the name “god”, you know already they are
talking bullshit.”






“–Next with a yawn I happened to gulp a spontaneous thunderbolt:
distasteful.”






“–I went under the olive tree

I had my wine and my bread with cheese

And I started daydreaming

Under the warmth and the dappled light

And I entered

Into the delicious hallucinations

Where paradises abounded and bubbled

(…)

Until it was time to go back home

With my dubitative step

Down the country walk

Thinking what a well replenished day

And yes

Yes

All in the line of a day’s work.”







* * * * *







eixavuirint al sac de les serradures

amb una lot em faig llum i...

La meva foto
C.R. Morell his paltry efforts,