Friday, 20 November 2015

Pareidolia revisited

I see smelly people. No Flaxen, that's called synesthesia. Stop being a twat. 

My mind is particularly adept at recognising coherent patterns in stuff. Tis a gift and a curse and most distracting when I'm trying to do sensible shit, and stuff. If you say, God then the education system has failed you, woefully.

Apparently this is a horse after its hind end got stuck in a meat grinder. Wings obviously got caught as well. If you look carefully you can see the trail of intestines, blood and gore.

Regard and see an infarct in the brain stem- honestly tis not my nan. Mayhap an aberration in the cerebral cortex. Arse.

No points for picking out Mother Teresa from amongst da craters.

Yep, he gets everywhere. He is omnisausage, after all.

Da Poppa practising for da after life. It only hurts until the nerves burn away. After that, it is all about the muscle contractures- ask the monks.

I see ferrets, everywhere.........


  1. I'll have a couple of pints of whatever you've been drinking, please...

    1. Ahh, that'll be two pints of Holts then Sir. Failing that we will have to do with Bonksies.

    2. Holden's, Batham's, or Banks's, and I'm happy. Better have a couple (at least) of pints of each...

  2. Any cunt can recognize coherent patterns, it's recognizing the incoherent pattern that makes you rich.