Rotten Inc
All fall down and lost in the mystery
I've often sat in left-wing meetings thinking about bad copulation. If you can imagine the British Marxist left as being akin to bad sex, blockage, you may ascend to my eerie plateau. Think about a meeting of the [X] Party. You're being raked towards orgasm: 'Our time is now. There's a lot of anger out there.' The vinegar strokes are on the horizon and all is good. Then some CUNT pipes up from the back of the hall: 'We've only sold 12 tickets for the demo coach to London.' Suddenly, you don't feel so good do you? All you're left with is slightly soiled underwear and a faint pang of regret.
This is the sort of feeling that needs to be industrialised. So I've made it my business to go into lots of sexy internet chatrooms with a prepared script ('what are you wearing?'; 'I can feel ure jazz bands gently toying with my three-card trick' and so on) that I have used in literally hundreds of encounters. Sometimes I am running up to seven of these chats with a variety of debased housewives at any one time. Yew jest have to learn to cut and paste, cut and paste. I have become an incredibly good judge of when these creatures are nearing the point of no return. When they're nearly done, I insert what I call thee 'rogue trooper'. As the moment of truth nears I will insert a random comment in the chatbox completely out of kilter with what has gone before (or what I can bother to give them from the script, itself shamelessly cribbed from a back issue of Razzle). These comments include: 'what's that dog doing here?'; 'is that your husband I can hear?'; 'shit! The wife!' You get the picture. Nine times out of 10, the OBG writes back with 'what do you mean you can hear?' and so on. The moment this reply arrives I hit back with another pre-prepared message: 'This sexy encounter has been chosen by thee Rotten Elements Inc to simulate being hyped to fuck by some middle-aged loser in charge of a debased Marxist sect before being crushed to death by the gnawing feeling that ure not really that popular. Congratulations. You've finally got something in common.'
Yew can see the way I join the dots?
