#9: Perfectly-Levelled-Reflections (I feel guilty calling it comedy with how definitively serious I'm being.)

Explicit content warning

01/26/25 • 68 min

Send me ____________ through my E-mail at the footy(footer // bri'ish)

However: You get what you've paid for. As long as you don't remind yourself that Time is Money.
I've been really struggling to come up with any weird bollocks or musings, and that's merely because I've had a lovely Christmas break (and not one Little Sausage has contacted me in order to, 'stop this immediately', or, 'I'm hungry for the next episode'). I think I mentioned that last week... As I recall, however... Last week involved quite a bit of quite serious Autistic-rage. This week...? I'm truly back to taking the piss out of our precious time// BACK ON FORM.
Not sponsored by anything, but... Jacob's Crackers get me very sentimental. Buy those, if anything.
Enjoy. Or, more intriguingly... Write in some spiteful vitriol xxx
(Thanks for listening. Y'all come back now, ya hear? I'm not chasing you, it's literally up to you.)

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"I never thought to say this originally, because I wouldn't like to lose myself in a Social-Vacuum-Esque Hellscape.
Purely if you think I have something to be understood, or anything of value...
Then, and, only then.
Be a Fan.
I'm opening up the idea of conversational ramblings. I think I'm naturally born reactionary, but instilled within silence. Don't be silent...? I'm a rational Human-Rights advocate, and I create my own kindness adverse to systems of Politics, wherever possible. However I'm Just not a fan of Tories. Irony, however... makes me look at Hugh Dennis differently. Like a Human. Not a Toffee. Or John Cleese. Or countless other wealthy Artists I, "couldn't possibly", relate to."
{Poddy e-mail address coming soon.}

Send me ____________ through my E-mail at the footy(footer // bri'ish)

Previous Episode

#8: Won't take freederrm like medicine

Send me ____________ through my E-mail at the footy(footer // bri'ish)

I've just been writing humouros intentions as if anybody cares. Not like the old days. Not being chirpy enough to be accepted by boozey cunts. Sick of it.
Luckily, Christmas is over.
Good
- Aside though , that's actually useful for my frail intentions to make others feel good, and yet... simultaneously... I've not been on holiday as an adult, and I think that's worth feeling that empty feeling. Greater than the need to fill your emotional weight into a lengthy divorce, I should've been on holiday instead of believing in people.
Fuck ye, I've got a lot of subconscious autistic breathing to accomplish in terms of being heard. At least, by me. In't' booth.
Maybe something good will come off for people who ferociously care, yet go against capitalisms flourishing capillaries. Think of all those who do, before myself. Fuck off if you're not having fun. Punk, Pink, and Pittance. First world boredom. Lube me up, but with ceramic...? pass
Next time I'll roll out more humour. This week was catching up on suicidal tendencies I keep quiet.

Next Episode

#10: I's har' work. Buhsuhmboddy godder do id

Send me ____________ through my E-mail at the footy(footer // bri'ish)

That's not necessarily a joke there... But somebody could fill in the gaps of where my wordplay falls down, and make a joke about how overzealous or underzealous my ID is. (In terms of psychology, set about by a man who ideally wants close family members to admit they'd like to fuck eachother.)

Life's a bunt-cake, and there's something transcendent about realising how much of a hole you are. A void that is waiting to be filled. And... that's not to say I've been fucking a bunt-cake. It's hard-graft being isolated. Not as hard as I'd find it to do a skin-graft, however... So I'm probably within realistic realms of working, luckily.

Back again, at no cost to yourselves. Merely the parts that seem burdonsome and depressing. Ent nuffin in loife free, ye Turnip.

Thanks for listening, if you did. 'Write in'