Stanley Kubrick Is Hacking My Phone From Beyond The Grave!

Just about when you fucking think you've seen it all this miserable shit goes and happens.


Now I put up with a whole lot of stuff but this really cheeses me off immensely.


It emerges that Stanley possibly does not occupy the top of the hierarchy but in fact Dan Aykroyd is dictating, what will and what won't happen; and what is to come to his disciples.


Dan Aykroyd, well of all the low down sneaky. I also have very good reason to believe that Pablo Escobar is in on this; also from beyond the grave. And it's not just Pablo, it's the rest of his lot; and the rest of his lot includes all the comedians and game show hosts working for the BBC in Britain.


I'm not fucking with you here, things are very serious and not to be made light of.


What is the world coming to? I want to know.


Rupert Murdoch yes, yes he is fucking too. Rupert was seen 'giving head' to Osama Bin Laden back in the old days, is a story going around the campfire. All you need to know.


I remember when I was a youngster and it used to be just fine to leave your car door unlocked and your houses wide open and there would be no trouble. You could leave your kids playing out in the street and not need to worry one bit.


With this portentous presence of Stanley Kubrick going on here and abhorrent vexatious vibrations ablaze. It is difficult not to precipitate into the idea that drinking 15 pints of beer will make all this shit go away. All the abuse I put up with is stupefying.

theebigmouse, xmas art
Merry Christmas from the Big Mouse squad err team errr whatever

Shit this is all so bad for civilization, that it's not something you could invent. At least not with a sober mind.


I was in the garage again one afternoon playing with my collection of tommy gun machine gun type things and I got an idea.


This idea was what Bob Marley said I should do when I was in a similar predicament many years ago. Oh you didn't know I toured with Bob Marley And The Wailers. Yes I went on tour with the them and this is what Bob said to me as he finished off one those big heavy shit spliffs.


He said "Chrissy boy, you and I have been great palls now for what? Five years? Well shit son". I don't believe I am required to divulge much more or go into any more detail so. Obviously this was rhetorical like a question you don't need to answer.


I'm not the kind of man who jumps to conclusions but I like to think I'm good at reading between the lines if you know what I mean.


Shit so straight away i knew what I needed to do, violence. It's the only way I can hope to defeat Escobar and his lot.

Maybe if I use my missile launcher and just aim the fucker into the crowd of game show hosts, that good old Pablo has licking his arse crack? Do I really think that will solve the problem?


Oh it drives me wild, Stanley Kubrick just walking in and hacking my phone, back from the dead; if I have to keep hearing his name being mentioned in my head any more I am going to scream! 


People coming and fucking with me. What am I supposed to do about it? Just lay back and let this shit go on? Umm NO!

So, what I've decided to do is involve the military. With Bob Marley And The Wailers on my side there's no way I could lose. I hope anyway.


But for now what I am going to do is make a nice cup of tea and eat a few chocolate chip cookies and imagine I'm on some secluded beautiful tropical island somewhere and scribble down all the information I have accumulated here in my mind to weigh up whether or not I might just be going insane.

Music, guitars, Cuthbert
On the strat

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