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Eight Times Existence, tick

The smoke drifted around the overflowing bins, amalgamating with the steam from the putrid empty cartons of no nutritional value what so ever. Can inhaled another long puff of his hand rolled piece of deathly art that he’d somehow constructed in a haze of other worldliness, this time the smoke gathered to a central point to make faces that snarled at him, they juxtaposed with a voice coming from indoors “Can, what do you want for tea tomorrow? Fuck the banality of that question lead him to question his own existence for the ninth time today (The other Eight will be unveiled in due course). Snapping back into an acceptable form of universally appreciated reality Can snapped back “How about eggs fucking bacon” Can’s mother Sheena had a habit of interrupting his life at such times, it felt more like an invasion of his own private planet. “How can eggs fuck bacon Can, c’mon lad” So Can proceeded to explain this common phenomenon, in his life at least! “Well mother dearest, we arrange the bacon like a vagina side by side and put an egg made to optimum runniness by its tender side, insert a straw to represent to penis into the yolky goodness and hey presto plastic penis fucks the bacon”

Eight Times Existence, tick


Joined November 2010

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Start of a story, just after some constructive criticism regarding sentence structure and other such stuff :)

desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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