An Endless Redundancy with Olly Woods
Much like a Dating Profile of mine, I am doubtful of the true costs of being part of some people's Community. What Agenda. Why must we engage...? Alas, most problems are caused, escalated, exaggerated and Calculated by engaging with near-enough anything. Why bother now...?
Good Question.
I am trying to bring Irreverence back, in the vain attempt to become at least... Heard. As Pitiful as that sounds, I'd rather not even have that from you for what it's worth, so that just shows you where I BLOODY STAND. Hopefully that example can express that I'm able to be more self-aware than some Comedic-Voices. That'll be a string in my bow. GUESS WHAT ELSE?! WHO LIKES IRONY! Bit sickly, but there's fucking loads of it, as I LITERALLY LEARN LIKE RAINMAN, MYSELF/my 'isms, and all we absorb within our Lifetime period. Maybe I ought to avoid phrases like that if I want you focussed, and honed-in to me. BUT, without engagement, we know bollocks and fuck and no less, just merely bullshit, so we all need some light/thought/another white-washed Bri'rish los(n not v, am not an emo joker rip)er, with a difference. NO. GAMING. CHAIR.
; W
hilst I make myself maniacally laugh, I've brought in a Microphone, and probably copies of things (not carrot top, but 'slyly' ginger in sunlight) that make me laugh, or to build upon in an attempt to share some (probably frail in your own shite opinion) bars of Originality, from a largely Impoverished/Out of work, Creative-Waste. "Waste...": I adopted that word/phrase (I already knew the word for objects, or rotten food) when I felt I was myself, and the S fights the M ; Forevermore discovering, uncovered idiocy, that frailly encapsulates my passion for Art, Humour, and.. clearly an (in)eminent element of what I don't understand. All running through me, like Wagyu-fat. Just... 25% fat content. Porky, porky, what a malarkey. Doesn't rhyme. Waste of mine. Time, fine, over-the-line. Half-rhymes hit, some of the time. More syllables, but less of what's mine. TIME.
(lost dramatic weight (/+wait to my sex life) recently, due to an existential crisis. Lovely to grieve, even in the bonds of love. Already losing my sense of humour.)
"This guy's rhyme is a waste of my time. I feel unsettled, but, then again... I believe in Ghosts." -A review I made up
"Actually.. Not bad." - Has been the general sentiment when I really offer original ways of creating humour to others, when it works- for them too -, when other times I'm immobilised by depression. I bring boasts of adolescent wonder at 27 years old, as I've been (in my opinion), an aspiring Comedian my whole little hole, life. (pBPDoe)
Avid Question answering may or shall commence whenever you see it fit to deem me worthy of recompence(/"pounds and eskimo pence") I MEAN, THAT IS USUALLY HOW BRITAIN SOUNDS, BUT HERE IS THE E-MAIL ADDRESS FOR YOU, 'BUDDY':
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Bit much, bit mad, or unrelated. However, I respect my brain, even though through historic mental strifles, people would be more inclined to respect Mystikal. Before all that... I'd expect...
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Updated 2025:
sermonofdoubtryediddlyi96@mailfence.com
An Endless Redundancy with Olly Woods
#1: A've just bin watchern tut tellehgh// Hiatus BustER
Send me ____________ through my E-mail at the footy(footer // bri'ish)
Ello, there. A bellow from the origin of slavery. Not to bring up any bad memories... It's 2025, thanks.
However, like the commercial need to rise to keeping up with the appearances of those who are in reciept of shedloads of, "FACKIN' MANEY", and, yet, blood-lined Adidas... As if the point of power is to wield others' misfortune like a grand sceptre you beat, 'lower'-racial-classes (or, LRC's - because Britain keeps you out with terminology and banal pre-ordained insight wot ur not privvy ter) with.
Anyway. That came off a bit like bollocks. Or, premium potato waffles. Birdseye: A healthy dose of Autistic and OCD tendencies for the British Public.
Could've called it that... However... I like to alienate and ostricize people with perplexing mental conditions: IN MY OWN RIGHT.
I don't do this for genuine updates on my life. Not after the cold response of... mild piques...
[I genuinely think this is a good one.]
Write in, if you think otherwise, however. It's healthy for at least some of you to tell me to kill myself, whereas the other portion will think it, yet, have better things to do: sermonofdoubtryediddlyi96@mailfence.com
(italics may have their uses, but, it makes your inferences too fucking easy, eh? Sometimes I just think: "fuck it.", and also, "oo. Her tits are big.". Nach ea?)
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"I never thought to say this originally, because I wouldn't like to lose myself in a Social-Vacuum-Esque Hellscape.
Purely if you think I have something to be understood, or anything of value...
Then, and, only then.
Be a Fan.
I'm opening up the idea of conversational ramblings. I think I'm naturally born reactionary, but instilled within silence. Don't be silent...? I'm a rational Human-Rights advocate, and I create my own kindness adverse to systems of Politics, wherever possible. However I'm Just not a fan of Tories. Irony, however... makes me look at Hugh Dennis differently. Like a Human. Not a Toffee. Or John Cleese. Or countless other wealthy Artists I, "couldn't possibly", relate to."
{Poddy e-mail address coming soon.}
