God Hates God

Dear Not Fucking Smoking,

I give unto you, Munky’s 12 steps.

1) Wake up one morning coughing up the 60 fags you had the night before.

2) Exclaim in an expletive-laden rant that you will never smoke again.

3) Repeat 1-2 several times over until the first thing you do after you stop swearing ISN’T to reach for those tasty Marlboro Lights.

4) Spend as much money on fucking nicotine patches as you do on your previous habit – and at least those contained scrumptious bonuses such as formaldehyde, tar and hot hot cancer.

5) Apply patch. Rub for good luck. Smugly note that it will send the signal to passers-by and loved ones alike that you are most certainly not to be fucked with, annoyed or looked at.

6) Sniff an ashtray.

7) Have fucking mad dreams about giant spiders killing the world and being stuck on a boat with some fuckwit frat boys because the spiders are scared of water.

Rock back and forth like a mental patient, fixated – unblinkingly – on having but a single drag of a cigarette.

9) Chew on your hands.

10) Prey on the weak and the small. And the ones with brown hair. And the freckled. And the…oh, fuck it. Be a cunt to everybody.

11) Lick an ashtray.

12) Celebrate two days without a cigarette in typical fashion: with a cigarette. Oh. Fuck.

FUCK,

Munky

Dear The Home Office,

Hey, awesome dudes! Yes, you there in the back with the cheap suit! I have a bright new supercool idea to cut back on the number of illegal immigrants in this country!!!! Stop charging £500 per application; then perhaps those who have come here for a life without the threat of genocide / badly dubbed television / rape / cunty ex-husbands with one foot securely planted in psychosis / starvation will be able to afford a legal status. Free application = fewer Home Office rape and murder fuckups! Whoda thunkit?

I am, for one, pretty fucked off that you’ve cocked me out of a cunting holiday just so some overweight ballsack in a suit taking a break from his usual ‘sex for visas’ scandals can stamp 25 pages of my - admittedly, well-organised with perfect penmanship, sprayed with a bit of perfume and stuffed inside a pair of dirty underpants (aka a ‘fast track application’ for those Home Office perverts) - immigration application in triplicate.

Viva la SET(M)!! You can’t kick me out now, bitches!

Munky

P.S. Next stop on the wondrous ride of this fetid isle? Citizenship! Hurrah!