I’m having a conversation
I’m having a conversation with you
Listen as I talk to you
I am talking to you in a conversation
I am saying words to you
You are listening to my words
Next you will speak some words to me
I will listen to the words as you say them to me
When the conversation is over
I will do something else afterwards
Maybe I will sit still in a chair
Or maybe I will get up and walk around
Later I might go outside
I will walk around when I am outside
Maybe I will stay still for a while
Then afterwards I will carry on walking around outside
I am having a conversation with you
I am saying some words which I have thought of
I am saying the words to you
You are listening to the words that I am saying
Wednesday 5 December 2007
A Typical Day
A Typical Day
I always like to try and beat someone up every single day. On Monday I didn’t manage to, as I was stuck on public transport for most of the day, and as a result I felt incredibly stressed and angry. Yesterday was a different story, however.
At around 11 a.m. I was walking behind this guy. He was about five foot nine, wearing pale blue jeans pulled up high with a rugby shirt tucked in. I think he was a student, but not one of the fashionable kind, maybe an engineering student or something. He had a strange bandy-legged walk and was in his early twenties. I sidled up behind him and smashed him in the right ear as hard as I could with a formidable right hook. It made a nice cracking sound and he groaned, although he didn’t fall over – he nearly did though, but he steadied himself and turned round to face me, shocked. I kicked him in the chin with all my force, grunting with the effort. The stupid prick went down.
Later on that day I had a fight with a little girl. Well, I say a fight, but really it was just a fairly unprovoked brutal attack on my part. She didn’t stand a chance, as she was about five years old and probably weighed the same as one of my legs! I was coming out of the shop having bought some lottery tickets. The little girl was outside playing with a doll. She looked up at me and smiled, saying “Hello!” in a babyish voice. I sneered at her and told her to fuck off. Much to my surprise, she called me a ‘nasty man’, getting all sulky and petulant, and pushed me in a stroppy manner. I couldn’t believe her cheek. I crouched down on her level to give her a fighting chance, and put my dukes up. I rained a quick succession of jabs into her angelic little face, blood flying everywhere from her nose and lips. She was crying her eyes out, but was a plucky little specimen, as she was still upright. I pivoted, and put all my force into a low right jab aimed at her ribs. That did the trick! The silly little slag was on the floor, choking. I am dead certain I broke quite a few ribs and probably her pelvis as well. I left her on the floor whimpering – not before delivering a tasty kick to her neck! That taught her.
It had been an excellent day so far. Some days I only manage to beat up one person, but that day I had already hurt a man in his twenties and crippled a tiny little girl. I felt great, and it was only mid afternoon. I barged into my mum’s house at about half past three. The door was ajar but I kicked it open anyway, shouting as loud as I possibly could, so loud it was making my throat sore. I had always managed to keep my violent exploits away from my mother, but things had come to a head somewhat and I decided it was time to show that old bitch what time it was. I ran into the living room feeling absolutely crackers, and evidently I looked quite worrying too, as she looked up at me absolutely aghast, dropping her cup of tea on the carpet. I yelled at the top of my voice “WHY DID YOU EVEN BOTHER HAVING ME!” and smashed her in the teeth with my right fist, swiftly followed by a left to the ear, then another right, this time an uppercut to the jaw. My mum was quite frail, so this was likely to kill her. Fuck it! Crying my eyes out and giggling, I kept smashing her in the face till it was a bloody pulp and she had stopped screaming. The technique I used was that of a large ape – using both fists at once, flexing at the elbows in a downward stroke. Finally, I got up, stepped back until I was flush against the back wall, eyes trained on my mum at all times, then ran in her direction as fast as I could. Just before I reached her I leapt into the air and flipped my weight, so I landed on her full force with my shoulder, elbow and back. I crushed her under my huge bulk, and I heard her bones shatter and the dying air being expelled from her lungs. My work was done! Calmly, I walked upstairs to the bathroom and drank a whole bottle of thick bleach. I sat down and prepared to die. The pain was unbearable, and after about two hours, finally, I was dead.
I went up to St Peter’s Gate. St Peter thought my story was interesting, and said I could get into Heaven, despite all my violent acts and killing my mum, if I was to write it all down and give it to him. He said he would send it down to Earth and see if people liked it, and if enough people did then he would let me in to Heaven. At the moment I am waiting in Purgatory. I really hope you like my story so I can get into Heaven!
© Noah Brown 2007
I always like to try and beat someone up every single day. On Monday I didn’t manage to, as I was stuck on public transport for most of the day, and as a result I felt incredibly stressed and angry. Yesterday was a different story, however.
At around 11 a.m. I was walking behind this guy. He was about five foot nine, wearing pale blue jeans pulled up high with a rugby shirt tucked in. I think he was a student, but not one of the fashionable kind, maybe an engineering student or something. He had a strange bandy-legged walk and was in his early twenties. I sidled up behind him and smashed him in the right ear as hard as I could with a formidable right hook. It made a nice cracking sound and he groaned, although he didn’t fall over – he nearly did though, but he steadied himself and turned round to face me, shocked. I kicked him in the chin with all my force, grunting with the effort. The stupid prick went down.
Later on that day I had a fight with a little girl. Well, I say a fight, but really it was just a fairly unprovoked brutal attack on my part. She didn’t stand a chance, as she was about five years old and probably weighed the same as one of my legs! I was coming out of the shop having bought some lottery tickets. The little girl was outside playing with a doll. She looked up at me and smiled, saying “Hello!” in a babyish voice. I sneered at her and told her to fuck off. Much to my surprise, she called me a ‘nasty man’, getting all sulky and petulant, and pushed me in a stroppy manner. I couldn’t believe her cheek. I crouched down on her level to give her a fighting chance, and put my dukes up. I rained a quick succession of jabs into her angelic little face, blood flying everywhere from her nose and lips. She was crying her eyes out, but was a plucky little specimen, as she was still upright. I pivoted, and put all my force into a low right jab aimed at her ribs. That did the trick! The silly little slag was on the floor, choking. I am dead certain I broke quite a few ribs and probably her pelvis as well. I left her on the floor whimpering – not before delivering a tasty kick to her neck! That taught her.
It had been an excellent day so far. Some days I only manage to beat up one person, but that day I had already hurt a man in his twenties and crippled a tiny little girl. I felt great, and it was only mid afternoon. I barged into my mum’s house at about half past three. The door was ajar but I kicked it open anyway, shouting as loud as I possibly could, so loud it was making my throat sore. I had always managed to keep my violent exploits away from my mother, but things had come to a head somewhat and I decided it was time to show that old bitch what time it was. I ran into the living room feeling absolutely crackers, and evidently I looked quite worrying too, as she looked up at me absolutely aghast, dropping her cup of tea on the carpet. I yelled at the top of my voice “WHY DID YOU EVEN BOTHER HAVING ME!” and smashed her in the teeth with my right fist, swiftly followed by a left to the ear, then another right, this time an uppercut to the jaw. My mum was quite frail, so this was likely to kill her. Fuck it! Crying my eyes out and giggling, I kept smashing her in the face till it was a bloody pulp and she had stopped screaming. The technique I used was that of a large ape – using both fists at once, flexing at the elbows in a downward stroke. Finally, I got up, stepped back until I was flush against the back wall, eyes trained on my mum at all times, then ran in her direction as fast as I could. Just before I reached her I leapt into the air and flipped my weight, so I landed on her full force with my shoulder, elbow and back. I crushed her under my huge bulk, and I heard her bones shatter and the dying air being expelled from her lungs. My work was done! Calmly, I walked upstairs to the bathroom and drank a whole bottle of thick bleach. I sat down and prepared to die. The pain was unbearable, and after about two hours, finally, I was dead.
I went up to St Peter’s Gate. St Peter thought my story was interesting, and said I could get into Heaven, despite all my violent acts and killing my mum, if I was to write it all down and give it to him. He said he would send it down to Earth and see if people liked it, and if enough people did then he would let me in to Heaven. At the moment I am waiting in Purgatory. I really hope you like my story so I can get into Heaven!
© Noah Brown 2007
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