edition: what'll it be?
/brit/
superbowl man
churchill looked pretty weird
Look, I won’t pretend I understand it babe, the afterlife and all
But as you died you promised me that you would try to write or call
And I’ve been waiting ever since, every sunday I hold seances with like-minded adults
And roll your corpse into the living room and try and find your pulse and then repine at the results, I’ve even got my windowsills lined up with ultraviolet bulbs, shrunken shrines of human -skulls and other signs of the occult but now I’m at a fucking loss, cause honey, nothing seems to work…
Like I’ve been astrally projecting my body beyond my dreams
Through the fabric of space and time so you could me spot me at the seams
I ventured through the upside-down hoping you caught me in between
But maybe if you’ve got the tech, then you could haunt me on my screens
Like you should infiltrate my news feed
I swear no one would notice
You could float beside some bogus buzzfeed quiz about the POTUS
Be a pixelated phantom ghost
On clickbait propaganda posts
And dictate what you’re thinking through a catchy headline
Like “one weird reason why it’s great to be ethereal”
Or “twenty signs you’re dead now and your soul is immaterial”
Or if it’s late at night then you could swoop in from the shadow realm
And talk to me through pop-up ads that show up over adult films
On anything you’re into, we could start with milf, or facial
You could beam your interspatial spirit into interracial
If you’re feeling sorta formal, we could pizza date on Skype
And I could call the coroner over n’ we could share the corner sliceand when it’s time to go to bed, then we could leave our cameras on
And if the netherworld has one-day shipping free on Amazon
Then you could slumber as you ship yourself, I swear this shit delivers quick
Or send me the address and I could meet you by the river Styx
...
>arse
all south africans should be killed
BBC is ahead of NBC
NBC online is ahead of NBC tv
I am over a minute ahead of yanks, feels like I'm psychic
toil is literally on the morrow
love kiwis
hate saffers
simple as