Frig Index: 2.6
Communism Bit: Off
Location: Job, of course
That's my name in Braille. So, for dem among ye that want I and I name, there you are. Go get someone who can read Braille, and you can tell the CIA my real name. :-D Babylon want fe fight I and I.
Also, anybody want to do something stupid? Learn Braille! Nothing weird, yeah? It could be worse! I mean, on my nineteeth birthday, I streaked, all nude, down the school walkway. Nothing on. Ah, that craziness. My back was strong, back then. We did silly things when our legs and groins could let us. But now, old and grey, I have to concentrate hard before I hit the space bar.ohfrigimissedthefriggin'spacebar!
Anyway, gwe, let's learn Braille. I mean, from what I have seen, it no seem fe be hard. (Don't mind I and I langauge—before the 1900h spliff wears off, I speak even as Bo' Marley woulda spake, seen? Yah, man.)
When we know Braille, we can tell the blind that we are their true leaders, and we can take over the world, because they will follow us, and so will their grandsons (who are old enough to be the majority of presidents in the world), and so will all nice-hearted humans (which is most humans). So, learning Braille is step one of taking over the world. Humble beginnings.
Lemme pause fe let I and I mind rest from Jah trip 'pon 'eaven, man.
What the frig is that? Learn Braille? Who suggested such crap? My high alter ego. Don't mind him. He is harmless. He has wild dreams of taking over the world, mbu the CIA killed Bob Marley, et cetera. He is a practising Rastaman. That may explain why I can't get myself to hate them Rastamen. My alter ego is one of them! And Bob Marley rocked!
Oh, frig! He spilled my friggin' streaking secret! Khayaman, you are such an absolute moron.
Now you know how hard it is to live with an alter ego. And I have two. One is a chic. And I am serious, here. I swear. It's called Multiple-Personality Disorder, the condition. Of course the therapist doesn't recognise Khayaman, mbu he is an `induced personality'. But he acknowledges Lota, though, the French-speaking Congolese girl. And she has a perversion, illegal in Uganda. It's why I can't get myself to hate them kinky women.
I crave a spliff, blogren. Sure, sure, I'll quit. But gimme some time, alright? No rushin' it.
Jah fire burn! Yah, man. Y'know. Dem be t'inkin' dem can fight Jah fire, man. Fe burn. Ah, I and I be sailin' 'pon Jah clouds, y'know.
We smoke de herb, so we get the benefit. You see, if we all smoke herb, we could could [come] together ... in unity.—Bob Marley.
Peace and love,
#=:oD. See natty dread? Yah, man.