--- M I C H A E L   M A G E E  

Because of who I am, these girls think 
	I've been given everything and who am I 
	to comment on what you can charge? They go 
						postal, they fuck shit up, 
						and they take no 

prisoners. I say fuck em. It feels powerful 
to finally claim the right to say and be 
								a flying karate penis 
								kick one way or the 
other. ... 

Who would fuck any 
of those people nowadays besides Charlie? A sick person. It's something 
			so rare that it doesn't happen 
			very often. ... I got into a couple

of fights because of my "age uke (or 'rising block') is of lower intensity 
than fuck but stronger than damn" t-shirt --

I was at the centre of			attention 
								and they did what is 
								permitted with my body 
in the cell of desire --  

Now I am 100 percent certain man 
and dinosaurs walked the earth at the same time, armed 
with cameraphones -- way way way way way off topic, but I am 
posting this everywhere guys.

I think everyone needs 
to calm down a spell. I am 
					getting a little tired 
					of hearing all of this whining and violence 
from the fanboys. Because if I have to hear any more 
of this from Barry --  "AND I WILL SPANK YOUR BARE BOTTOM 
IN FRONT OF ALL THE OTHER FANBOYS! AND THE FIRST ONE 
TO GIGGLE WILL GET A FIST SANDWICH! BWAAAAAAAA!" -- Well, 
Fuck you Barry. You suck. Shut up Barry. Everyone hates you. 
Barry, you tard.  Go to hell.

It's so temping at this point to just give up and make 
					my Deadly Granny outfit eclipse 

			the music we 
			so admire. However, I am convinced,

after witnessing both coups -- in which suffering is not 
						an agent of civility, 
				but rather brutal -- that, we'll play 
it by ear, not muscular per se but a mother of three 
who has worked at McDonalds for over 12 years.

("Aww! It's Saturday! We want to try 
					out Abel's new board!"
(She was practicing moves on unsuspecting people on the front driveway.

I saw something 
infinitely kewl 
at the mall that day: Matrix figures 
allowed to say "fuck" in a prayer filled with advertisements from all over.

What  I found 
interesting in this workshop is that often 
when I expressed my "pharaohism" it was a cross 
								between a slurred 
	karate chop and gritty molasses, like an avid hiker 
setting nails on the path 

for cyclists ((Well, not really, but I do resemble his/her actions 
in some way, only with a less negative resolve) but if my goal 
					is to hinder the progress 
	of others well, I am just 
no better than anyone else in this world spending 
their time teaching lessons, my intentions 
are as arrogant and as pious, driving a rational speed without purpose