J-oy-riders
Oh, I can´t believe this Pulp not Fiction song is about us, hazmat suit blushes! Especially the line Hey you, you in the Jesus sandals. How do they know I´ve been wearing Jesus sandals all my life, J?
The intellectual protagonist of Eye and his best screw driver friends of Me and Myself enjoy driving around on Saturday nights, not really looking for trouble, wink wink, and having fun, oh no, no goofing around, please? These lads have a crude sense of humor and like to joke about smashing things, like smashing hits, like not smashing underage gals. Ooh, that would be a hook-up crime. And you could never imagine they are taking the most beautiful and special and blushing girl to the reservoir to recite her P P poetry, could you? Sorry for their cute stutter, these timid blokes cannot help it, waxing so P P poetic. Oh no, these bloody pricks only dream about real women, hoping to meet one some day while getting dripping young meat!
The most eloquent protagonist of Eye tells a man so P P politely to lend them his car, meaning at point blank range: “Mister, we just want your car, 'Cause we're taking a girl to the reservoir. Oh, all the papers say it's a tragedy, but don't you want to come and see, or see and cum?” Do they want to paint the town, or the poor girl? It is so urgent, oops, Covid-masked kisses, that the Mister refuses to participate in the Divine Comedy where a Virgin, not Virgil, falls. The car just speeds up to clean the stained, deflowered purity. Because why else would they head with the slutty girl to the reservoir, ha? How come it is considered a tragedy with the married Mister invited to come and see for himself, to witness the Holy D D day? J, excuse the stutter again!
Are we talking here about incels, those “involuntary celibates” who inhabit an ugly corner of cyberspace where discussion is often characterized by resentment, misogyny, misanthropy, self-pity and self-loathing, racism, a sense of entitlement to sex, and the endorsement of violence against sexually active people? While we may laugh at the punch line, we all know the Internet is not in its infancy and sex is in its prime! It is obvious it cherishes their role as lovers reprising their model roles as defender-saviors of women as well as the delicious secrecy attached to every fabulous sensation seared in their treasured memories created out of the blue. All these P P poetic and A A astounding impressions are quite romantic. So British Pulp Comics. Actually, J, American English.
Yeah, ahem, the nerdish protagonist of Eye and his best screw driver homeboy crew of Me and Myself get lucky dodging the incel community. They embrace their toxic masculinity, representing a real danger to the social fabric, err, the so absolutely amazing girl takes care of their desperate business, satisfying every and each of their academic needs or whims of the curriculum, building her sizzling portfolio, oops! The exhibitionist phrase is blown away, placing all the focus on the sweet tragedy of Love. Having in mind that unspeakable crimes sell newspapers and increase ratings. As As A Sh Sh she grows up and becomes an extremely successful dominatrix over her intellectual protagonist of Eye and his best screw driver friends of Me and Myself, these silly, would-be teenagers, who like to go joyriding, cruising childishly around town late at night, really look for trouble. They had better pray that mommy does not own a shotgun. Yeah, they are circled like prey, only to express the wide range of pubescent emotion, dealing with that weird rite of P P A A ssage. Shhh … shhh … meaning shhh, J!
We like driving on a Saturday night,
Past the Leisure Center, left at the lights.
We don't look for trouble,
But if it comes we don't run.
Looking out for trouble,
Is what we call fun.
Hey you, you in the Jesus sandals,
Wouldn't you like to come
Over and watch some vandals smashing up someone's home?
We can't help it, we're so thick we can't think,
Can't think of anything but shit, sleep and drink.
Oh, and we like women;
"Up the women" we say,
And if we get lucky,
We might even meet some one day.
Hey you, you in the Jesus sandals,
Wouldn't you like to come
Over and watch some vandals smashing up someone's home?
Mister, we just want your car,
'Cause we're taking a girl to the reservoir.
Oh, all the papers say,
It's a tragedy, but don't you want to come and see?
Mister, we just want your car,
'Cause we're taking a girl to the reservoir.
Oh, all the papers say,
It's a tragedy, but don't you want to come and see?
Mister, we just want your car,
'Cause we're taking a girl to the reservoir.
Oh, all the papers say,
It's a tragedy, but don't you want to come and see?
Mister, we just want your car,
'Cause we're taking a girl to the reservoir.
Oh, all the papers say,
It's a tragedy, but don't you want to come and see?
Our Anthem For The Ages
·Our Anthem For The AgesThanks for reading Epiphany Beyond A Biblical Scale! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. - Enjoying the whole forbidden fruit is turning us on even more. Now, you can tell some lies about the good times that we've had.
i s P y
·It is the powder apex of Libor Cocker’s preoccupation with class hatred; it is the ultimate example of Libidoe-as-intellectual-threat. The Libertine of this P seeking & finding song, replete with milk and cream without any obscenity, is trapped and seething, filled with genuine contempt and disdain, but utterly aware of his own value
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Every time I see your name pop up, I try to pray for you!
Oh I haven't heard that since the 90s cheers! x