Voices In My Head #12

Well....I guess this makes a dozen. Another late night... no coherent thought, just the whine of the broken Macintosh printer starting and restarting struggling to come online. I don't think it will make it...but so is life.

TODAYS ACTION PACKED ISSUE: a note from JOHNNY, some lyrics from the Bloodhound Gang, and how to smash a broken printer.

Heeeeere's JOHNNY:

Dear Die-ary, .

Amusing. I opened my eyes it would appear I slept. It must have been weeks since I last slept. I felt the usual confusion upon waking - everything from before my eyes opening feels unreal and uttterly quesionable. Wasteful sleep, annihilating all certainty, consuming precious consciousness like fire ever-ravenous. QUESTION SLEEP AND ALL ITS MOTIVES. This time, however, my protests are silenced, as I seem to have benefited. This time the fire burned away more than just confidence in memory, but the strings are burned away as well. In trade of clearly remebering an unpleasant past, I've regained control of my will - A new thing to accustom myself to. Funny thing is, Pinnochio's a real boy now But his wirings all fucked up. No chance of salvation - still one can try to slow down their descent. Emotions overwhelming too many distractions from within. First on the reform agenda is to re-awaken the insect, and assume a lovely coldness. With ICE in place of swirling noise, control awaits! I shall now make myself a sandwich, God help the neigbors if they have no cheese.

Johnny the Homicidal Maniac,
In Control of a Broken Machine, JTHM #7

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If you find the content of these lyrics offensive, you're not cool

Life is short and hard like a body-building elf
So save the planet and kill yourself

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Like that episode where Gilligan gets sick of being teased
And he breaks into the Professer's lab and makes some LSD
Peaks freaks and eats the Skipper's brains then beats Ginger with some coconuts
As Mr. Howell and Lovey burn alive inside their grass hut
Oh he'lll kill again that Gilligan they should have let him be
And like a postal clerk I'll go berserk if you don't stop teasing me
See the trick is only pick on those that can't do you no harm
Like the drummer in Def Leppard's only got one arm

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But I'm not a roll of Charmin so don't give me no crap.

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You got your Jesus on the dashboard but the Devils under my hood
You're taking it down to legal I'm pullin' it up to no good
God is your co-pilot I let Satan ride shotgun
You pay a toll to get to heaven but on the road to hell's theres none

---Lyrics curtousy of the Bloodhound Gang

That's all for now, It's time to take my three o'clock medication