The Horror

William's bugging me to share another thought on my blog. I was reluctant at first because he just did one, but then he promised he'd burn me whatever I'm missing from my Smiths CD collection. I am not made of stone.

Will Bray, of William and the Tradesmen. Hit it.

The Horror.

... has become my nickname of late. I'm a skinny perfumed ponce with a huge ego, a big dick, and a shyness that is criminally vulgar. Now that I've nicked about eighteen different lines from other things, let me concoct something out of my own imagination to summarize the animal that I persist in being - an animal that should have been either a) drowned at birth or b) taken to some kind of hippie love thyself love thy neighbor camp when he was still impressionable enough to undo several decades of neurosis.

I am a complete basket case, unable to see past my various hang-ups, limitations, insecurities and delusions. I had a good time in 1986 at a friend's birthday party. I had a nice lunch yesterday. These represent the two times, that I can think of, in which I've let myself enjoy myself. And yet I still tend to be relentlessly critical of others and their hang-ups, limitations, insecurities and delusions. This is because of my large penis and enormous ego, which lets me think I'm more talented at certain things than others are. Talents such as self-assessment and avoiding becoming an accountant or a doctor.

One of my talents used to be building Lego castles. This talent reached its peak in the 1980's. Do they still make Lego castles, the knights and stuff? If so, I'd like a chance to prove myself again. One of the castles I made had a working portcullis. I used to be really good at following instructions.

Um... okay, Will. Those better be some prime Smiths CD's. I think that's the last time you're allowed on this blog. Control, dude. Self-control! Like, you know? Those Lego castle sets came with instructions as I recall.

Alright, onward. Eli James, A Simple Man of Simple Tastes shall not allow such awful self-indulgence in the future. I mean, really, what does he think this is, the internet?