Oi you. Yeah you. Unshaven, unwashed, yesterdays pants, biscuits on chin, Billy no mates. Yeah you. You are destroying this planet and you make me and the rest of the IDJ Mafia sick to our stomachs. But what do i know, i’m just some 2 bit music producer that for some reason has been allowed to write nonsense for a below par dance mag. I like to give off the impression that i’m all peace and love and save the wale and stop damage to the A-Hole layer or whatever, but as soon as anyones back is turned i’m wiping my arse with bog roll made from the tips of snow leopard tails. You have to throw the rest of the dead bastard away of course, its useless, a waste of good guts, but by god those tail tips feel so good against my piles.
I’ll be honest, i know next to tit all about global warming and all that jazz but what i do know is that if you really care about your carbon footprint you will go outside right now and find the nearest brick or bit of piping and smash the bejesus out of your cobblers or jazz box, therefore eradicating the possibility of you ever spawning vial little offspring. You can then drive to work in a fleet of hummers and concords for the rest of the year safe in the knowledge that you have done the whole planet a favour by not adding 1 more fuel hungry little bastard to the ever increasing list of the worlds problems. You can have a tyre burning party in celebration. Sing-Ho-Fucking-Sanas you have officially done your bit. So go on, out you go, it’s your duty as a socially responsible human being, go outside and smash your genitalia in oblivion. You’re a hell of guy and we’re all routing for ya.
Taken from my column in I-Dj Mag