I would say actually the joke is incredibly funny
2005-07-26 || 2:53 p.m.

I am a scummy person living in a scummy, mouldy house, one of thousands of boxes in the large extending sprawl of London. Around me are hundreds of thousands of other people, all living on top of each other, all snarling and growling and utterly territorial. People who drink themselves into oblivion every weekend because it is just too hard to cope with. And yet they are the lucky ones, because inside them they have beauty. They have souls, hope, dreams and they can love and be loved.

But me I am scum.

Spin backwards away from me as you look down on me lying on a dirty mattress in a square box only barely bigger than the square mattress I lay on. Reach inside me and pull out the dirty, festering canker that passes for me. The soul that does not exist because it is just black rot. Pure and simple black rot.

And remember this one thing: I am a joke. And the joke is on me. This I now understand.

And the nails have been driven into my coffin so many times over it gets boring. A whole side of them banged in the day I took Dylan. And now I would say the other side is pretty much nailed down and the ropes are on.

So spit in my face and laugh as you shovel the shit onto me. Because I will be the one with the biggest fuck-off shovel load and I will be laughing the loudest.