Theists: Suck on this!

This is a long time coming, and I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to express more views on this fucked up cesspool that you fuck-tards idealise as ‘Mother Earth’; hell, you fuck it up pretty good like a bunch of hedonistic mother fuckers! Hey, Earth’s a mother, and you people fuck it up – the math is elementary – mother fuckers.

A few months ago, I went to a pub with a friend of mine. There, we engaged in what was to become a long session of religion bashing, primarily Islam, and fanaticism, and literalism, and other isms that condemn humanity to the depths of decadency that we see today. Unfortunately, our conversation was cut short by a belching sack of shit, too drunk to realise that he was intruding on a conversation, and too drunk to realise that he was spewing his spittle into our drinks while farting shamelessly. You know what I think? I think that fucked up morons who can’t hold in their alcohol, might as well avoid the damn poison for the sake of keeping me from getting homicidal.

However, before we were interrupted, I did manage to explain my perception of spiritual leaders around the world. I explained how and why I am an anti-theist, and why I feel that ideologies fail because they try to nurture the ‘individual’ by imposing uniformity, which has fucked up societies in hideous ways from thousands of years. I also did a small monologue on my view of Christ as a good role-model, irrespective of his so-called ‘divine’ status, because I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about deifying every lump of a turd that comes along on the corner of the road known as 'life' or 'history' to some of you. I am a complete mind, and I don’t require a god or queen to safe-guard my own insecurity in understanding my basal and higher nature.

Now here comes the gist of the post; many of you accuse me of ‘hating religion’ and ‘harbouring a malicious, childish agenda against theism’. Well, fucktards, here comes the bitch-slap from the Anti-Christ – ME! That friend that I was talking to, has converted to Christianity. I met him today, and he told me… no, he thanked me for ‘evangelising’ him, which is a fucking hoot. So while you theocratic whores sit back and bash me for being ‘secularly narrow-minded’, I hope you can look past that uneducated, ignorant oxymoron – contradiction – to realise that your beloved ‘hater of god’ just helped a tortured soul find peace with the message of Jesus Christ.

Oh, fucking, hoot! Even I’m surprised, but y’know what, I’m gonna’ enjoy this little victory, because even in defeat, I gain a victory – I am that damned victorious across the entire ideological spectrum since the dawn of human hypocrisy… err, civilisation!

Take it easy, fuckers.

Later,
Kade

Moment of Madness: Just read!

I’ve played many games of the mind in the past, and by that, I don’t mean games of aptitude and academic value. I speak simply of fucking with peoples heads, fucking with my own head, watching them fuck up one another good, and then even having them fuck with my head.

This is why it pisses me off sometimes to determine or judge on how someone should be, or should feel, when really, I have no precedent over the matter. Who the fuck am I to say make such conjectures, right? So in spirit of this newfound wisdom, which I’m probably going to lose within a few hours, I’m going to deal with a bit of an issue through a dark twisted piece of lyrical poetry!

There’s something pending, in my name, and I must procure the results. Of course, it’s a matter of winning and loosing in my case, but something tells me I’ll be more empty after the whole ordeal, regardless of the outcome.

And now I know where I stand, so I shall embrace this dark epiphany head on!

Victory in defeat,
And defeat in victory,
My mind’s own deceit,
Perpetuating this misery.

Defined by numbers,
As I watch the frail egos collapse,
Defined by numbers,
Watching their neurosis relapse!

Have I really achieved triumphant glory,
Or have I really just come out empty,
Unable to save those that really needed to be saved in this story,
Now the shadows of deceit hunt me as their quarry!

Fuckin’ blog smogs of my own mind,
Machinations of the archetypical devil’s design,
I always command ‘em to fuck off to the abode of their kind,
But that really just means the core of my own twisted mind!

It was time for tings to be changed,
Switching around those ancient tables,
The cerebral game rearranged,
A new dynamic but within the same fables!

Yes, welcome aboard - come to me my dears,
You’ve taught me a great lesson,
Stalking and then drowning me in your ocean of crimson tears!

By occupying my vessel time and time again!
Probing the sentimental voids as my hindering bane!
Leaving me deluded in the vain!

So now I welcome thee back into my void!
Only this time, I’ve consumed you for my bidding!
Now I’m the designated stalker deployed!

Once I was yours, and now you are mine!
A role reversing dynamic of the slave master paradigm!

I may’ve suffered defeat in victory!
But now the mistress of darkness is my trophy!
So have I gotten victory out of defeat?
None but I shall caress the underlying truth to that riddle, for now it’s my game of deceit!

Defeat in victory,
Victory in defeat,
I am the fucking sadist, now in firm possession of his misery!
Triumphing and concealing my morale’s defeat with tantalising deceit!

Fuck this sincerity and contemplation; my smoking mirrors will dispel all mortal despair!
Venturing through smog murk and overwhelming temperature to get home to my nightmare!
The very nightmare, that either haunts me, or daunts my enemies; whatever, baby, I couldn’t care!
Eighth and final circle of hell, you wonder? Hah! My throne lies far beyond the devil’s lair!

Ha!

Ha! Ha!

Ha! Ha! Ha!

HAH! HAH!

Later, fuckers!

- Kade

URGENT VENT: FUCK THE CLOUDS!

Yes, that is fucking it for me: I hate this rain! I just fucking hate the rain!

I mean, I am all for combating droughts and shit, but this is ridiculous. These randomly ludicrous bouts of rain, all the fucking time, are starting to overwhelm my nerves! FUCKING HELL! I AM SICK AND TIRED OF GETTING SOAKED! AND NO, I REFUSE TO USE AN UMBRELLA!

"Well, it's your fault then!" -- Common criticism.

FUCK YOU, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS! DAMN RIGHT IT IS! BUT THAT WON'T STOP ME FROM BITCHING ABOUT RAIN!

It's like the heavens are taking a piss on me, and enjoying every moment of it; I don't wish to be urinated on by a pack of mischeivious angels!

"Hey! Piss on that lanky punk! It'll be cool!" -- Angel.

"Cut that out, you fuckin' fairy!" -- My response.

"Mwahahahaha! Fuck no!" *PSSHHHH* "Say my name, bitch!" -- Angel.

I don't need to be showered with your fucking water, oh clouds; it's cold, and you fuck me up in ways that I don't enjoy analysing for the sake of my own sanity. If I wanted to feel cold, like shit, in utter dim dampness and despair, and perhaps even a tad bit violated, then I would've found a way to get into prison!

Fucking hell! WET. ALL. THE. FUCKING. TIME.

FUAAAAAAACK!

- Kade

An epic day of 'tale' proportions! WHAT?!

Yesterday was one hell of a weird day for me!

I mean, it was a tale of good versus evil. A tale of triumph against insurmountable odds. A tale of humour and entertainment amidst the utterly mundane. A tale of excitement being derived from physical agony and distress. A tale of chaos and battle. A tale of going against one’s very natural inclinations. A tale of deceit and deception gone horribly wrong. A tale of pain and romance. The whole mother-fuckin’-load, baby!

So it all began with yet another outing with my ‘saner’ friends - my colleagues. Heh, nice bunch of people, so diligently looking out for one another, and attempting to establish ‘connections’. I guess it would be a better world if more people gave a shit like that, but whatever. I joined in, since I am in for a long and twisted weekend! I decided to join ‘em in, thinking that in lieu of a so-called relaxing outing, we’ll end up in some sort of (mis)adventure. No, I was merely offering moral support. I won’t say any more, because excessively personal opinions and reflections suck ass, and one, or two, or three of them might end up reading this. Therefore, I’ll shut up.

The voices inside my head had a good go with me! Most of the voices told me to just get out and do my own thing; solo-act of wandering about, and then warming up inside some pub. Then, my inexplicable inclinations made me succumb to the outing, instead. Fuckin’ amazing! And here I thought I was the archetypically stubborn person. UNCHARACTERISTICALLY ODD SHIT - CHECK!

Worse yet, through out this scenario, it was raining cats and dogs just hours after my hour-plus shower! I HATE GETTING WET! If I needed another shower, I’d have stayed at home and remained in the bathroom for another hour.

I played along with the routine, and had the ambivalent experience of some mundane settings, coupled with interesting company and conversations. Hey, I even got this one person with unrivalled silence abilities, which she claims is only a ’shyness’ issue, to actually ask me a question for once! Fuckity! Anyway, then the people decided that the mundane was too mundane for them, and they wanted to head off elsewhere; another one of those parties. As a matter of fact, very much the same kinda’ party, by the same kinda’ people, but in a slightly different venue. AMUSEMENT IN MUNDANE - CHECK!

I didn’t mind the idea of going, but there was something in the back of my mind that kept pushing me in another direction, that and the fact that pretty much everyone received news of this ’party’ with the exception of me. And if anyone knows Kade, even a little bit, they’d know that he loathes being the uninvited third wheel! Regardless, both elements were going against me! I mean, as much as I like to play the ‘outsider’ as Dan so aptly puts it, sometimes, it also pisses me off, because I am not the kind of person who likes to cling along when he's not convinced of being invited. Seriously, if some of you can relate, then just picture the idea of everyone and their dog receiving the invitation, with the exception of you; would you feel appropriate crashing the party uninvited? Heh. TRIUMPH - CHECK! Basically, the evil--my ego--beat the good--my colleagues. Then again, maybe I always hail the victor as 'evil'.
These chain of events left me playing the game halfway as I suddenly segregated myself from the group, and begged my leave under pretence of having to be somewhere else; we parted ways as I headed off to my filthy haven up north. I was thinking of meeting up with a friend, but instead of doing that, I began to prowl the city on my own. Yes, so my little ‘pretence’ now turned into a lie, which I’d say was nothing more than a fucking fib, to be honest. DECEIT - CHECK! I’ll own up to it, not like they lose much anyway! They were going to a fuckin’ party, for fuck’s sake! Do the maths - it was cool.

That’s when the unexpected occurred. Now, everyone knows that I am a tough person to approach, by virtue of my own nature, and the inherent ignorance and bigotry of even the most so-called open-minded people. I mean, I belong to a very specific ‘genre’ of people, and only such people have the balls to approach me at a completely sporadic impulse. So I was at the tube-station, waiting for the last train that I needed to get where I needed to be. Suddenly, a complete stranger, apparently not one of ‘my genre’, approached me. We had the quirkiest conversation, ever. Because he was very forthcoming; asked me how long it took me to grow my fuckin’ chin goatee! I was fuckin’ amazed! Because for once, I had someone to relate to, as I explained to him how slowly my facial hair grows, and how abnormally long it took me to get a solid chin-goatee, while my friend‘s younger brother got something better within a measly six-months. Ah, but the primary surprise remained highlighted in the fact that this stranger showed me some balls and casually friendly nature that’s apparently a myth in society. I mean, aside from like four of my colleagues, most of those very people took months daring to lower their guard around me, so it was a sociological phenomenon for me. Now this stranger and I talked about goatees, hair, since he’s been trying his hand at growing both but not having much luck. We even touched on the subject of dying hair, and what a bitch bleaching can be. Well, it was interesting, and then we parted ways; I guess that’s the last time I’ll ever see the dude, but hey, even a few minutes of interaction that somehow challenges my general judgement of reality is a worthwhile experience to remember. Yeah, that dude was alright! UNEXPECTED PLEASANTRY - FUCKIN’ CHECK!

So, is that it? Fuck no! Because the really unexpected happened as I got ambushed by a big, huge drunk! It was raining, yet again, and the roads were virtually empty, and that's when I heard this massive, "Oi, yo!" a creepy opener before the drunk revealed himself. And the schematics of the drunk - fuck! This guy had a huge height advantage as well as being a big-man. But he learned that disgrace is a guaranteed outcome when he'll mess with the Super Sleek Sexy Snake, Kade, because I triumph over fat-drunks! Chaos/Battle/Triumph (A couple of bruised ribs) - CHECK! No seriously, this is not cool. Fighting is not healthy, or productive - avoid it when possible. I mean, I didn’t fight the guy; I just had luck on my side. I was prepared to suffer major injury at that point because this guy was ‘huge’. I just got, very lucky.

"Ah! You so had it coming! Someone finally tried to give it to you! Ha! Ha! Ha!" -- Some might be thinking.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! And... Yeah, fuck you! No. The guy was fucking drunk. I didn't know him. Furthermore, as much as I antagonise some, those very few know fullwell that I'm... You know... Not a nasty fucker. No, really, I am not. Fuck, believe what you will." -- My general response, because I am already getting such feedback now; apparently, in the good judgement of a sordid few, I deserve such an outcome to my nights.

Note: The backdrop to this fight was even more rain! Fuckity fuck! There, I just had my third shower within a six-hour-window! Not to mention, another one that’ll not be too far off as I was near my dominion - my personal hell, which I relish and loathe for two very opposing reasons.

Oh, and what about romance? Bahahahaha! Even -IF- there was any, why the fuck would I tell? Friggin’ idiots. It’s a marketing ploy, and I win. Made you read! Bahahahahaha! If I missed anything else, then just attribute that to hyperbole, because you’d be rigid fuckers to do otherwise; look up the news channels and supplement your consciences with yet another news of kidnappings in the ever so successful Iraq--then dies the sarcasm. (Okay, perhaps I do deserve some mild form of beating at this point.)

Anyway, it was quite a day, and I’m fucked up good now. So yeah, I’ll post some shit later. For now, I must medicate before I decide to rip one of my ribs out.

Stay cool, fuckers!

Cheers,
Kade

F.U.C.K: Fucking Uptight Conservative Kooks!

I am so fucking pissed off right now that I can't type straight without punching something. Yeah, just my fuckin' luck, because over the recent days, I see to be rolling the dice quite well. So I met an old friend who's visiting UK, and we had one hell of an "interesting" conversation. By interesting, I mean a crazy one-sided condemnation of me for being 'a hippie liberal who's an apologist for fanatic Islam', when I argued that the war was fucked. Yes, it's a fucking ancient cliché, which expired the moment it came out, but my friend really rounded things up with that rotting rhetoric that goes something like this: "You can't support America without supporting its war in this time of need. If anything, you're supporting Islam-O-Fascism by condemning this war."

OH! OH! OH! I WAS BEGGIN' SOME PROVERBIAL NARRATOR TO INTERRUPT AND TELL ME THAT THIS FUCK-FACE DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT. FRIEND OR NO FRIEND! YOU DON'T CROSS SUCH A LINE LIKE SOME BLIND PATRIOT. I AM FUCKING FRIED RIGHT NOW! SO I DECIDED TO RANT IN AUDIO, BECAUSE I JUST CAN'T TYPE THE FOLLOWING WITHOUT CRUSHING THIS COMPUTER.

Syd, I realise that your progressively dangerous ignorance is probably the fruit of me not kicking your ass as frequently as I used to a few years back. It's a real shame, really, because once upon a time, despite your economic beliefs, I considered you a politically enlightened individual, but now it's apparent that somewhere over the last two years, you went from pro-free market to a corporate shill, and now to a completely disgraceful Bush apologist, you sad little myopic fucker! Let's just hope I can kick your ass back into the thinker's paradigm before it's too late and you're blindly thumping Pat Robertson's bible. I know you read through this shit, so be prepared, you fuckin' deluded nimrod!

As for the rant: So if you sorry shmucks decide to listen to this rant, then be warned: Heavy offensive material can be found. Oh, and thanks to another friend of mine for actually clipping it up and uploading it with the music and shit. Disclaimer from Kade: I take full responsibility, because fact remains that all this needed to be said! The pissing and bitching was so out of control and random that we got nothing done in the studio, and so my friend cursed me out and told me to record the damned thing in a pod-cast, so I can get it out of my system. In his words, "Take a shit already!"

Podcast: http://media.switchpod.com/users/kadestorm/rant1.mp3

Now I'm gonna' bite my fucking fist, and wait until I can head off to Argos at the earliest, simply to purchase a nice punching bag for the beating!

Later,
Kade

Crazy Rant: To be, or not to be - Drunk!

Premise: Fuck you! Fuck each and every fucking one of you!

I'm sorry, I am quite literally 'blah' at this point. It's one thing to live in a world where people numb themselves with drugs, but it's entirely another to have the same numbing agents do jack shit for me.

As any capable being knowing me would know, I don't have mass for alcohol tolerance - literally, again. I fuckin' don't. When I say I can be fucked up on five pounds or ten dollars, I mean it sincerely. Hell, I've come to realise that this is a very exaggerated estimated, because I could get smashed on far less. Yes, I walked into a party, sober and serious as a man about go on mass-vengeance, and through -very- annoying circumstances, guzzled down three glasses of red-wine within a window of five-minutes. Well, the rest after that is a painful ordeal. I call those five minutes, my personal heaven, by the way.

"Just three glasses of red wine?" - Some might as ask.

"You don't know my fuckin' anatomy, Junior, so shut the fuck up before I break a wine bottle over your head without any fucking regrets!" - The typical irritant response.

I don't get drunk like normal people, because I get all the bad sides of being drunk. No, I do not lose my memory. No, I do not forget myself. No, I do not develop a bad speech impediment. Fuck, I don't even lose my recollection of the entire session, which is probably the most annoying part. I mean, this was a night for me; sniffed cocaine, and had more alcohol than my physique can allow me. So all I got in return was the odd state of remaining lucid and cogent, with extreme dizziness, visual-imbalance, and the natural inability to stand up without clinging onto something; not to mention, laughing on my ever-so-vibrant cynicism. Yes, quite literally all the bad points of getting drunk, without any of the good. I ingested this shit to numb myself and forget, but instead, my senses heightened, while my physical balance was the only factor of diminishment.

Yes, this is justice, isn't it? "Why the fuck don't I feel numb?" I wondered as my candid nature went into high-gear. Yes, the only thing I got out of this was nausea, dizziness and a very bad head ache. I say this about eight-hours-later. Bring me red wine right now, and I'll likely throw up--don't expect much to be there aside from some liquid and stomach acids--puke for the fucking win. The worse part, I have retained every annoying, gut-wrenching memory from the night.

This brings back an old account. I met this tarrot card reader a few years ago, and she told me that the only drug capable of numbing me, and soothing me, even, will be a gun-shot to my head, or drinking ichors from the very gods themselves. *Right*, god-blood! That's what I need: WHERE THE FUCK DO I FIND SOME? Could rat-blood get the job done halfway? Perhaps I should go to one of those vampire raves and have a go.

Fuck.

You mother-loving twats are friggin' fortunate to at least enjoy getting wasted for what it is: Being smashed beyond the farthest reaches of oblivion, and then not remembering a damned thing about the tripping experience. Yeah, people will take this for granted, because I guess it's standard - WELL NOT FOR ME, YOU FUCKIN' INGRATES! GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Maybe I'll piss off some big guy and get a few blows to my head; nothing beats the amnesiac after-effects of a concussion.

Stay cool, fuckers.

Later,
Kade - Your unholy drunk, who wishes that he could be a real drunk, ONCE FOR A FUCKING CHANGE!

Valentine's Piss!

Off topical premise: Post-midnight rage is the fuckin' booze for the soul.

Recently, a certain someone asserted that most of us were busy on Valentine's Day. Many gave a sarcastic yes, and I responded with a 'hell no', to which this 'certain someone' readily agreed; "Oh, you I am sure of. It's not your thing."

Excellent, people seem to know me better than I know myself; perhaps they also hold the cure to cancer and mortal limits; perhaps they can help me become god. Am I being bitter and sarcastic? Why, yes I am! I spew out all this fucked up sarcasm because truth states otherwise. I did in fact team up with a friend of mine on Valentine's Day. A friend who was in a friends with "benefits" clause with me, not so long ago; a clause that we still invoke on very rare occasions.

We teamed up, just for Valentine's Day, and went out of our way to bother a lot of couples, celebrating their love-façade. Oh, and when I say, "out of our way," I mean very much out of our way; every effort was made to annoy and agitate the droves of love-sick morons in denial of the inevitable.

It was all fun and games, until an abrupt end - I started making a Molotov Cocktail, and this worried my partner in crime, as she's always been the disciplinarian compass in my life. As always, she had fun with me, but made sure to draw the line when I was getting ahead of myself. However, this time, for some odd reason, I got pissed off, and so we called it an early night and I fucked off to my own self-dwelling hatred.

To sum it up, I had fun, though the ending did leave a lot to be desired. Now many would think that this is pitiful, and that I am probably some sad putz, deprived of the concept of true caring and "love". Furthermore, many would deduce that I use the fucked up shenanigans on Valentine's Day to compensate for my own emotional deprivations. Well, they're wrong for the most part, but that's still cool, because regardless of how right and wrong they maybe, it was the fucking mother-load of fun! I don't care, because it was a fucking hoot!

Yeah, sure, perhaps the joy was ascertained at the taxing misery of other, caring individuals. Yes, I plead guilty to deriving pleasure from annoying the hell out of the Valentine's Day saps! Yes, I'd like to put a fuckin' arrow through Cupid's left eye, and then go for the right one as well. However, I see nothing wrong in this line of hedonistic logic; fuck morals and ethics. If George 'Dumb-Yah' Bush--the fuckin' president and chief execute of the world--can kill some twenty-thousand civilians, and sacrifice over two-thousand of his own troops in order to turn an autocratic secular state into a religious theocracy for some cheap oil, then I think that provides me with ample leeway to have all the fun I can have at the expense of the bleeding hearts in denial.

Yes, I fucked up Valentine's day for a hearty few, and I enjoyed it. Fact: I did team up with someone on Valentine's day, but I actually celebrated it for what it's worth: Fucking with peoples heads!

Valentine's Piss!

Hey, mister, why so mean?
Because your ignorance is painful,
You fucker, can't you glean?

But love is being celebrated,
Why do you spread this hatred?
Is your fucking brain sedated?
I was having fun as your day was berated!

So then it was all mockery and fun for you?
I relish the vitriolic anti-Valentine's sentiment that I spew!
And why do you want to take out cupid's eyes?
The podgy fucker can't aim, so he doesn't deserve to see!
I might as well donate his eyes and liberate a blind person from their misery!
(I can also bet that at least he'll know how to use his bow and arrow with some dexterity!)

Happy Valentine's Day, fuckers! And yes, it is around ten-days too late, but who cares? More importantly: Do I care? Fuck nah! Anyway, have a good one!

Later,
Kade