Now that the local electric supply company has decided to go all crazy bitch on us folk, I find myself oddly with a lot more idle time than before. Without the absence of technology, one needs to look for other distractions and while I’m in no way claiming that it’s actually doing me good, I just might do something worthwhile with my time. Deprived of my internet, there is little I can do so I decide to stick to my literary guns and pelt the aforementioned company with my contemptuous diatribe.
Of course there is a big possibility that this brief rant might turn out to be something else entirely because once I get musing I endeavour to bring forth the philosopher, painter, critic, story teller – all in all the art genius from where ever it hides in the corners of my otherwise troubled and over analytical brain.
As the revolving blades of my ceiling fan decrease in speed, so does my thought process and once more I am left cussing this butt face man also referred to as our President. I suppose the butt face man has a lot to be happy about. I can almost hear him laughing maniacally; with his vulgar set of offensively yellow teeth on full display as he enjoys his time prancing about his french villa on whatever the hell island he bought from the money he stole from the nation and try as I might I can’t help but mentally think of putting a fist through that bridge of teeth. Actually no, what I feel like doing is strapping him to a dentist's chair and plucking out every one of those large rotten teeth of his and shoving them down his nose while simultaneously setting him on fire.
Breaking off my reverie I glance at the clock on my wall that tells me there's still 15 mins left till the electricity gets back and that is before I realize that my clock runs 20 mins ahead the normal time. Guess I could indulge in a bit more of my musings. I think of how important this piece of shite thinks he is. You know I truly wished he were, that way he might have been worthy of being on some militants hit list. Imagine my dismay over the fact that absolutely NO ONE THINKS THIS MAN IS IMPORTANT ENOUGH TO KILL. No thugs, no mobsters, no mafia, no terrorists.
There is no bottom to the low life he is. It’s an endless pit, he’ll fall down, and down all the while flashing his stupid yellow teeth and it will just not end. What is with that plastic smile anyway? I guess between all those threading and waxing sessions Bilawal forgot to mention to his father what a fucktard he looks in that smile. It’s the smile of a creepy sadist pedophile who often dresses up as a clown and drag children in some dark corner and feeds on them. That is just so disturbing.
The only difference between him and a pervert old geezer is that one of them is president.
The only difference between him and a dog is that one of them makes a faithful pet.
The only difference between him and shit is that one of them can actually be flushed away.
This turned out to be a rant after all.
Oh well. I really hope the butt face man gets abducted by a bunch of starved and crazy cannibals. Or perhaps he’ll just die of a heart attack because of all the shit that clogs his arteries.