DIE ANTWOORD.

Wednesday night and It came at me like a drunk blood thirsty panther with the head of a bat and warp speed.  Sometimes something comes into your world that finally makes it make sense.  It always has a way of finding its way to you just at the right time, in just the right way.  That wretch of bleached sagging female compost went to pick the coke up at like five am this morning.  Her secret connection.  I’ve been sitting at home twitching, horny apparitions creeping out the corners of my eye, I can pay them no mind, starving and unable to imagine eating or sleeping for sex million hours now after doing her shit.  I want to order a hamburger just to smell it.  Then maybe vomit.  I cant concentrate.  That bitch bought Meth and pocketed the money, I know it. Which is kind of funny.  Just another drug off the list.  Meth is shit.  If that is what it was.

But the person I did it with (not the gypsy) showed me this today.  Each minute that passes, this shit makes more and more sense (the music, not the drug.)

dieantwoord.com

Go there and hear some of the songs, look at those pictures.  Look at that tattoo on the guys right arm.    Their from South Afrika and their the only thing that makes any sense in this world.  His name is Ninja, hers is Yo-Landi Vi$$er.

Uhhhh, oh god yes, perfect.

That strange man is an artist from South Afrika.  He has the little old man disease, Progeria.  His names Leon Botha. Hes the oldest person in the world to have it at 24.  A Headbutt machine.

Going right into the future at 3:30.

Taxijam.

Read the lyrics and listen to one of the songs here. Perfect.