adolescently moronic dribblings

Brace yourself..

i have some news..

If you're of the incontinent variety,
and as one mustn't descriminate in this day and age
i'm going to come to the obvious assumption that you clearly are,
i suggest you go strap on a fresh adult nappy, 'cos thing
are about to get nutty, scatty, an you're more than likely
going to be spraying sweetcorn any moment out of
your batty..

I know that sometimes i give the delectable impression that
my life is a beautifully Utopian, regal existence,
a life baron of any concept of struggle or hardship..

Perhaps i am guilty of mis-using these ape-like Turkish
hands and abusing my rather bog-standard skills with a pen,
pad and overtly limited use of a clearly stunted vocabulary,
but please, do not get the wrong idea about me..

My intent is never to mis-lead, disguise, seduce,
patronise or piss on the reader of my pre-pubescent
adolescently moronic dribblings..

I just get carried away on a stream of verbal diarria sometimes..

In reality i do actually have problems.

Want to know one of these problems?

No?

Ok.

Well i shall let knowledge reluctantly be born,
whether you're interested or not..

One of my problems is that the toilet paper in
here is too weak an breaks when you wipe your ass with it,
it's led to me spending countless hours washing shit off my hands
and a rather peanutal stain on the palm of my right hand..

Another one of Timothy Guvercin's woe's?

I expect too much from people.

Example?

OK..

It is obvious that i am not cut from the cloth of man
that derives his education and pleasure from reading books..

But like any other animal that can lick its own shitty asshole,
one has adapted to the surroundings i find myself festering inside
day after day, month after month..

Since coming in to pergatory,
i started, or attempted, to read.

At first i could only manage reading a sentence or two
before my blood pressure started to skyrocket, my balls would
rapidly expand and quake then i'd black out, only to awaken,
naked, penis in hand, covered in pure shit.

It wasn't cool.

But like anything, practice makes perfect,
and in no time i was reading whole pages and finishing
childrens books in less than a month and change..

I am truly blessed in this life..

Back in England,
there are about a handful of people who still find amusement
in watching me fumble my way through life and occasionally
join me for a couple of laps, one of them is a very pretty girl,
she has made attempts over the years
to coax my level of intelligence above the mental age of sperm.

Hi Gabby x

It clearly didn't work, but still,
it's the effort you put in, not the outcome that's important..

Anyways the point is,
she sent me some really sick David Icke books.

I read them, thoroughly
enjoyed them, an that was that,
Timothy and his limited attention span moved on..

One day manz' cotching on my jaes,
mind my own business..

"That's the reason the motherfuckin' grave yard is full, cos n****rs don'
be mindin' their fuckin' business"



I sense someone approaching..

This is no joke,
one thing you seem to learn and become acutely aware of
is your immediate surroundings and what type of energy is
in the air, whether people are beefing, joking, you can tell
this shit from a mile off after a while..

I can be facing the fucking wall an without hearing
a peep i know if someone is approaching an have a
good idea of what their intentions are..

Dudes that done time are probably agreeing with me right now,
people that havn't are probably coming to the assumption that i'm talking shit,
and i probably don't give a flying fuck either way..those that know, know!

So i glance over.. an see this blob slumped in the doorway..

His face screams stupidity.

Poor Hygiene.

Most of all, it screams an over-abundance of saliva, phlegm and mucus.

This dude is known for being a fucking pervert,
he has a photo album full of cut-outs from celebrity magazines,
the shit is, like, exhibit A for his future stalking charges,
it's sooooo fucking creepy..

The man can do pullups with one hand.

How?

Chronic masterbator.

Seriously.

Now despite all his good points i have listed,
Timothy was somewhat dubious about lending out his almost
prestine David Icke publication to such a clown-cake bozo motherfucking bum,
but as he seemed genuinely interested, i flung it into his sticky hands,
and in a cloud of pubic hair, sperm vapours and morbid body odour,
my man slimed off into the sunset..

A few weeks passed..

I'm standing with a rag-tag collection of 'homies',
doing my best to look as 'down' as possible.

This basically consists of the following..

-Substituting the word "son" for every other word

-Making lots of big, overly accentuated hand gestures

-Excessive hand shakes and high fives

-Wearing ones head gear tilted to the side on a slant

-Making the assumption that every female wants you to stick your tongue
up their asshole (probably true) an have you whack them in the back of the head with your
sneaker while you fuck them doggystyle (probably untrue)

"Hit 'em with that Turkish bone son!"

The list of moronic characteristics are endless,
i'll get back to it another day though..

Anyways..

I'm standing there, faking the funk,
an this dude creeps over to me and without warning,
attempts what i can only translate as a pathetic try
at human communication.

Slowly i see the sores around his mouth cracking as
he prys open his scurvy clad jaws, there's blood, puss
an pre-cum spraying all over the place..

At first it sees like he has one motive.

Which is to foul himself in public.

He succeeds.

Then crumples his crusty finger into some kind of hand gesture,
i think he is asking me to escort him to his living quarters..

It's dark, dingy and i am hit with an over-powering
stench of utter stupidity and incompetance..

He hands me a crumpled up pile of paper and cardboard..

----------------

"BOOK!"

....

"I spilled tea on it"

"Dude, you fucking ruined this shit"

"I know"

"So what are you planning on doing about it?"

"What you mean"

"I lent YOU this, YOU fucked it up"

"I know"

"So what are gonna do about it?"

"What you expect me to do? It's your book"

"I gave it to you to look after, look at the fucking state of it, it's ruined"

"Yeah but it's your book"

....

"Ok, you know what, don' worry about it mate.."

*I proceed to take my leave*

"YOU NOT GONNA LET ME FINISH IT?"

....

"No. You fucking ruined it dude"

"WHAT!? HOW YOU GONNA DO ME LIKE THAT!? THAS' FUCKED UP SON!"

---------------------

Who should really be to blame for the book being destroyed in this situation?

I knew who i was dealing with,
all the signs and symbols of idiocy where on the wall,
i just chose to ignore them and expect this blob to do what i would
do in this situation.

This was wrong of me.

It makes no sense for me to get mad at the outcome.

Example..

If you can see with your own eyes that i am completely incompetant at basketball,
yet i tell you that i'm the fucking shit an you should hire me for your team, when i go
out there an ultra flop it, fucking up the whole game an making you look like a complete
and utter retard, who should you really be annoyed with?

This is a very simple lesson but a profound lesson that applies
to many instances in my life and many decision i have made,
i'm sure it would do me good to remember this for
future reference..

"Life is flawed yet with tremendous potential for joy and fulfillment. Everything
is workable. Until we learn this, time and time again we will be burned by our
unrealistic expectations" - Lama Surya Das

Word..

Yo Son

"A man's life is subject to inner storms far more devastating than those in the physical world around him"
- Abdullah Yusuf Ali

Just when i thought my days couldn't possibly be spent doing anything more
intelligent, worthwhile and productive..

I just finished debating..

An exhilirating experience..

We both raised valid points,
passionately argued our sides,
all in a manner of sophistication one had only thought possibly
after aeons of under-study, in depth research and lengthy revision..

I mean..

Me and my associate are both well versed in the subject matter..

In the end neither one of us,
despite the numerous valid points raised by both parties,
could unanimously come to a definitive conclusion..

Independant judications were called forth..

Hoardes of knowledgeable third parties..

Still no unprecidented closure was to be found..

You be the judge..

Or

Corruptible Flesh

Life is good..

My stomach is full..

I just got my haircut..

An i got a nice cup of coffee on the go..

:D

A crucial part of my day is eating a big bowl of oatmeal.

It's actually a highlight.

Imagine that.

For real though,
you should see how i make it..

-One pack of Peach oatmeal

-One pack of Brown sugar oatmeal

-One pack of regular oatmeal

-One handful of peanuts

-One handful of cashews

-A HUGE spoon of peanut butter

-One granola bar

**I should probably point out that due to only being supplied with two rolls of toilet paper a week
and not always having the money to buy extra, i don't make my oatmeal with milk. I use water.**

:/

My haircut is very nice.

Kind of GI Joe/Kurt Russell.

The top is long and combed back though..

For two tunas?

It's very nice.

Each time it's cut,
it's always a little different.

I used to attempt to give the guy some pointers,
but he never listens.

"Iz Okay Jimmy, I GAT you!"

I don't make it a hobby of mine to argue with someone
when they're holding a razorblade either.

:/

I got rid of my beard.

I'd actually started to comb the motherfucker!

Growing a beard ain't shit though.

Done it many times..

If i get a little more time,
i think I'm going to grow it.

Why not.

The 'Bawse' look.

Right now I look smart..

Clean..

Presentable..

Most importantly,

I look innocent.

:D

So..

I'm sitting here,
I've had a nice meal, I'm looking sharp,
an i just finished some work for the dude next door..

Graffiti lettering..

(How predictable)

I have clothes, food,
a warm place to rest my head, outlets to express my creativity,
positive influences and many opportunities to help people around
me and in someway contribute positively to my environment..

I have no complaints.

Life is good..

Knowledge is Born

**INHALE**

-Leaving out a burger for 24 hours, then microwaving it, is not cool or hygienic. It's fucking bate and purely trampy.

-Yo if i get up at six in the morning and get you your breakfast, you're supposed to say thankyou. Right? Apparently not.

-I'm not wasting food. You're not eating them. If flies are in my living area, i'm dashing out your apples.
You're hoarding. An it's bate.

-If you take a shower and i can still smell you, it's a problem.

-I am not "Mr Fussy". Last time you used that bottle of BBQ sauce i CLEARLY saw you lick the top of the bottle. I'm good.

**SHIT ON THE TOILET SEAT IS NOT KOSHER**

-Showering at least once a day does not make me a germophobe.

-When i am listening to this,

Please do not interupt me by telling me to listen to the station you are listening to,
that is playing this,

**EXHALE**

Total BS dude

Today was a long day.

Thankfully it is now drawing to a close..

Time to Relax..

Got myself a cup of coffee.

AND a bagel.

It's got peanut butter and a chopped banana in it.

:)

Radio..

Pen..

Paper..

Ok..

----------------------

I'm reminiscing.

:/

A quick glance through one of the many photo albums
i filled while live in New York City..

Afternoons..

Out an about..

Mornings..

Times i shared..

An little reminders of my life..

Some are just eye pleasing.

Others evoke a more personal,
heartfelt response to my time in the United States.

Certain images have the uncanny ability to
stir up a somewhat, mixed bag of emotions.

:/

I am, however, sufficiently intelligent enough to know that
dwelling on said visuals and the subsequent thoughts and feelings
that arise from such a fruitless endevour,
is not clever.

Inevitably..

In time..

Pain and confussion turns to growth and understanding.

"Your life is like a play with several acts. Some of the characters who enter have
short roles to play, others, much larger. Some are villians and others are good guys.
But all of them are necessary, otherwise they wouldn't be in the play. Embrace them all,
and move on to the next act" - Dr. Wayne Dier

"Nuh boy dem a badder dan weh!"

Over the past few months i've been sent some really nice letters,
emails, books, emails,
magazines, photos, it always helps me in my situation to know that there is
someone who might be thinking of me..

Gabrielle, Sykes, Kosta, Chad,
Jake,Barry, Uncle Albert, Frank, Auntie Denny,
Keely, Lynne, Revekka, Jennifer,  Amanda..

Thankyou x

Max B from Austria,
i've tried sending you something a few times but it keeps getting returned,
please email me your adress so i can get these sketches an letters flying
in your direction..

I'd also like to send love to my brother Fred,
you were a big inspiration to me in the short time we
were placed in this situation together and i appreciated
you taking the time to listen to my problems, give me advice,
and help me deal with this chapter of my life.

My prayers go out to you and your family,
i know you will achieve great things in your lifetime,
your patience and compassion towards me will not be forgotten,
i pray that one day we can meet up for a beer, talk about the bullshit..

An how ULTRA pissed off you used to get when i tried to bug you for stamps..

"NO!"

As-salam Walekum..

**Arroz Guisado Con Pescado & Salchichitas**

**Stewed Rice with Fish and Sausages**

-------------------------------------

*Ingredients*

-5 Sazon seasoning packets
-2 Halal beef sausages
-1 beef deli stick
-2 macarels
-2 bags of pre-cooked rice
-2 hot 'n' spicy Ramen vegetable soup

------------------------------------

-Dice all meats and pre-cook for 4 minutes in microwave,
then drain out all the grease.

"Carna de res solamente"

-Open macarels, drain all fluids out of the packets.

"En un plato plastico de microonda"

-Insert meat, fish, all five Sazon seasonings plus two soup seasonings packs
and bring to a boil, adding 3 and a half cups of water.

-Then pour rice and soup into another bowl,
mix together.

-Pour boiling broth "con toda la carne" into the rice/soup bowl.

-Stir broth/met and rice/soup mix for two minutes,
halve the mixture into two bowls.

-Microwave both bowls for six minutes each, stirring every minute.

"Porgue si no menea el arroz con la cuchara cada minuto, se guema el maldito plato! HeHeHe!"

-Let it sit for a minute before serving.

"Y disfruten su comida!"

----------------------------

No contract, take my word

I'm standing next to a group of four guys..

All in here for drug charges..

They're all rapping along
to some fucking garbage that's spewing out of Hot 97..

You can clearly see they are into this absolute horse shit,
singing along to the lyrics of Drake, Rick Ross, Two Chainz..

The list of moronic rappers is endless..

The lyrical content of most these cock smokers is usually nothing
more than grandios claims of drug dealing, catching bodies and more
often than not their effortless avoidance of the Federal Government..

Now call me pessimistic..

But considering most these kids and i say kids as a lot of them are under 21,
find themselves in the tricky predicament of looking at mandatory sentances
ranging from 5-15 years in prison for a few grams of crack coccaine..

To me..

Personally..

..it doesn't seem very likely that the rappers these kids are idolising and clearly
imitating spend their time shotting bricks of coccaine then making recordings
of said crimes to be played on the radio, to millions of people,
which INCLUDE thousands of Federal Agents all over
the United States..

:/

Perhaps i'm wrong..

Perhaps i'm just incredibly naive..

Perhaps i'm becoming pessimistic in my old age (26)..

Perhaps Drake (former child actor)
DOES have solders "that come up from the hit" for him..

Perhaps Rick Ross (former Correction Officer)
DOES sell crack off his iphone and when you buy four,
he kindly fronts you five more..

:/

Times like now..

To be specific i'm talking about as i put thoughts to paper..

I feel like i'm getting old..

Instead of viewing these rappers as merely entertainers,
bozos, clowns, pushing tried and tested methods of controversial
subjects and rebelious personas to sell their records,
 I find myself instead seeing a generation of young men
in prison with their lives irreperably damaged, due to their attempts
at mimicking a lifestyle that simply does not exist, they are being lied to,
by individuals that have no interest whatsoever in the effect that their
bogus lyrical content and imagery have on the average impressionable
young man that finds themself in a hard situation looking for a way
to make some money..

 They are completely oblivious to their responsibilities as being in
the spot light, they are looked at as role models and should be trying
to put out some kind of a positive message..

But then look where i find myself..

Who cares if you're making money right?

Who the fuck cares if you're selling a load of bullshit and you're phony as fuck?

Who cares if you're advocating a way of life you know nothing about,
that inevitably ends in jailtime?


Being a role model?

Being genuine?

At this point you're probably agreeing with me..

Yes Timothy..

You are getting old..