novel without organs

including bonus novel bottomless novel

 

you see

 

theres that pesky see again

 

see again

 

theres that pesky see again again

 

novel doesnt see  it doesnt see or show or tell  what does novel do then? novel novels         speaking of novel lets talk about da nooz   da nooz is a novel that wants to be a novel but isnt  whereas a novels a novel that doesnt want to be a novel but is   and where does gossip fit in you ask   gossip is just da nooz for those who cant find their way into da nooz although those in da nooz also gossip  this is one of the great mysteries of life   so gossips doubly troubled  it wants to be a novel but isnt and it wants to be in da nooz but isnt   and as granny ı says two isnts dont make an is  tho ıs been around enough to also hear granny ı say they do

 

very important note about granny ı

due to blogger being a foetus among foeti in terms of typographical possibility there are many tricks and routines we want to perform but cant or its too awkward or were lazy and instead we have to omit them or resort to stupid techniques like taking a screenpic of the desired effect and bringing the pic into the foetus   clunky   so sometimes with granny ı   granny ı should always look like this

granny ı

but because sometimes for the aforementioned reasons granny ı gets a dot we then offend granny ı and write her name against the very ancient codes   shes offended and we tell her ıts not our fault ıts bloggers but she responds wıth somethıng so obscene even we  vulgarıty ıncarnate though we are  refuse to repeat ıt   so just keep ın mınd dear unfrıends that you should read granny ıs name everytıme wıthout a dot and ıf you should  ganesha forbıd  ever meet her  make sure you pronounce her name wıthout the dot

 

why doesnt novel see? well for one thing stupid it doesnt have eyes  it also cant hear smell touch taste or think as it completely not only lacks all organs of a body but a body itself   this is why novel just novels even as you just yous and ı just ıs   this is also why only ı sees because only ı ıs   ı having eyes but no ears tongue nose brain fingers  as ı is just ıs  has to do the seeing for novel but because communication between novel and ıs severely limited troubled and in fact and fiction many doubt whether ıt even exists at all were highly unsure whether ıs infos reliable and even if ıt were whether any of ıt would pass over in any even remotely trustworthy way to novel   is novel then the perfect example of perfect solipsism? yes   and this is our fascination with ıt   the universes first instance of absolute unity  assuming of course everything outside of ıts excluded   so doesnt this make ıt yet another instance among infinite instances of relative unity? no   because instances of relative unity eg hear but novıl doesnt hear   ıt exists so wholly in ıtself that ıt supersedes god for even god gets lonelı and created a race of strategic idiots so it could watch a 22005 act tragıcomedy on a very very very very very very very very very side stage of a very very very very very very very very very side galaxy in a possible universe among possible universes

 

novels bottomlıss  we mean this in all the senses of being without bottıms   first of all novel like withoutbottoms goes in all directions whether they exist or not forever  of course everything goes in all directions whether they exist or not forever  words vowels peanuts so on   so what distinguishes novel from peanut? no one knows really but novel certainly asks the questıon   second of all novel takes ıts pants off  in fact ıt doesnt even have any pants or skırts or kurtas or   but here ıt is with ıts genıtalıa flapping around  and just to let you know thıs ısnt sex ındıcatıve as labıa flap around just as much as cockıa   and this may be what novel does best ıt lets ıts genıtalıa flap around and in this way simulates for us overwrought monkeys a return to the jungle from whence we came and we know what we all miss more than anything about the jungle is just hanging out letting all our genıtalıa flap around all the time   third of all bottoms are ends and novel doesnt have ends    fourth of all novel has no soıl  ıt exists apart from the earth and yet in it but in spırıtus   fifth of all novel neither plays the sub nor the dom nor can ıt for ıt lacks a bottom  of course this infers ıts also toplıss which ıt is  being bottomless topless frontless backless headless footless  asomatous through and through really ıt doesnt even have the opportunity to exercise or submit to power  novel transmutes power  and weakness  strength and vulnerability  to energy   you say but ıt has genıtalıa  sure  but the flapping genıtalıa were flapping about are really just the vıta & fluxa of novel   sıxth of all  and nymhematologically  novel doesnt buy the aum because ıt hasnt bought the aum   and we keep on going off the page because the fact of novel being bottomless is itself bottomless and ıts bottomlıssnısses all the way down

 

but isnt whonym bottomless too?

 

if whonym appears to be bottomless its only because of book   only book in whonym is bottomless and whonyms only bottomless to the extent its book   but whonym on its own has many bottoms but every bottom  no matter how many  is a bottom   some ask  but if there are an infinite number of bottoms in whonymity isnt this a sufficient sımulation of bottomlessness?   lets consult heresıarch ıuppuı who happens to be standing right here on a bottomless bottom on this ıntractable questıon

 

but heresıarch ıuppuı says

 

novel gets tired of novel  it gets exhausted  and tries to escape novel  and thinks it does  but then eventually realizes its still in novel and no matter where it goes there novel is also   novel  that from which we can never flee and is more us than we and has replaced the elements and earth and is our ıs and blindness

 

and we say

 

but heresıarch ıuppuı  you havent addressed our questıon

 

and heresıarch ıuppuı says

 

and this exhaustion and tryingtoescape and deception and realization and inescapability and totality is also bottomlessness and bottomless   this also is novel

 

and we dıe yet agaın

yon

sketchbook for a new genealogy of genealogy

oozery ovelry enealogy inary

or   how to count in sadoo

 

the importantest thing to know about novel is that it lives in a boozery  which is a joint manufacturing complex of a distillery winery brewery absinthery and hallucinatorium  it doesnt have just two parents  how hideously singular!  one female one male  how wretchedly binary!  but so many parents of so many sexes and genders the alphabet quickly gets exhausted and someone has to run to the nearest spiritoaesthetic convenience store to get more letters and even then therere never enough  

 

most genealogical charts are linear monsters  culminating in whatever ı is ıing according to ı thinking it must keep getting ıd to further ı

 

but mine  but its not mine  my  notmy  genealogy  neither culminates nor is decided about any ıing   its too busy running back and forth to the nearest spiritoaesthetic convenience store hoping against hope therell be novel letters

 

the principles of genealogy as its been practiced  like every discipline of the colonial lands  either of the old unwrapping colonial lands or the new wrapping colonial lands  require reconstituting rerooting resciencing regeometrizing   for blood and linearity  legality and binarism  solidity and nymaphilia  dominate the current and who of the imaginations draw would allow itself to be set in those prisons when alternatives  while hardly encouraged or even acknowledged as legitimate by most whonyms  still mired as they are on powers assembly lines  present themselves in murky morphings by the light of vivid night

 

how ones formed   but not one but many

how one wants dreams to be formed

 

not simply in the small circumscriptions of society

but the circumferenceless polylogs of possibility

 

a focus on two parents  male & female

what a reduction of time  an apotheosis of the binary

 

so as everything talks everything births ı and flows from ı

ı not as unitary or sole source or product

but as a node among seemingly infinite nodes

and an ı embedded in all ıs as they in ı

 

a brief application of nymhematology

·             genealogy after all is just la egg ye no and gag el en yo and ya gel gone and nay glee go and gang eye lo and ale egg yon and a leggy eon and agony glee and thats pretty good

·             its the study reason logos of genıes and dȷınns

·             but dȷınns are unreason   the reason of unreason

·             not my genes but my jeans  the jeans   not the jeans but the pants  and the pants the undressing and the undressing the genes and the genes the dȷınns

 

a brief application of etymology

·             genealogys a descent and when you fall far enough into your genes the genes are far away

·             just a whonym learning how to fall

·             genealogys a birth begetting    gene-   born race kind origin genius embryo chıld tribe

·             to engage is genealogy is to engender cosmogony   theories of creation

·             my blood tree is the cosmos   worlds of kosmein

·             which makeup do ı want to wear?

·             folctalu  folktale  study of the famılıes of trees

·             genealogys tree geometry   not any square and angle look or shape

 

my mothers emptıness

my father stıllness

the myriad all rise together

and we watch their return

the teeming all return to their separate roots

 

whatre the roles of death and time in genealogy?

can one of my legal descendants

one in standard cognitive processes whos forever unknown to ı

be one of my forebears?

 

some approaches to regenealogizing genealogy

draw shapes in which ı may or may not appear and if it does anywhere in any number of multitudes according to any one or more of the below reımagınıngs   include linear blood if you wish but if you do feel free to incorporate anyhow and anywhere and anymorphed   add more reımagınıngs and include as required for continual reshapings

 

·             physically known significant or insignifcant whonyms in life

·             fictional characters

·             whonyms from past never known

o   if ı say hari megaloth am ı not including a conglomeration   we need a name for this

·             imagined whonyms from present future

 

but if our training for the above limited our training for the following nearly nonexistent

 

·             nonwhonym animals                          across time           fictions

·             nonwhonym living creatures artifacts  works  oeuvres

·             dreams & vısıons

·             concepts sensations feelings memories

·             foods meals dumps coituses fondlings falls

·             faılures ınterstıces apertures noumena

·             events spaces geometries

·             the populations of ınterıorıty

·             technologies and powers

·             crises traumas betrayals humiliations joys ecstasies confusions relaxations

 

can ı stitchhook a genealogy from the polyvoiced plasmacity of my legal relatives rand the foraged and picked from the forests and oceans of the cosmos and would this craft be anything ı could walk on or hang? how would society accept it as a lineage carpet art question  alongside or even superseding the traditional                                    the linedominated blood charts

 

a genealogy morphs  polydynamicizes  rolls turns returns enfolds frees

de nerval  the lobster guy  did some preliminary work in these areas  lets follow

 

 

just as covids renamed ōvid so novel renames itself ōvel  weve never liked ns anyway  and this way ōvels related to shovel grovel & hovel who are fine or finer characters than novel and also in ōvel and ōvel in them   this leads us to our advocacy of etting id of all irst onsonants as ey eem ighly uperfluous  ånd ãs ęvë â øńdñėšš ôr ìäçrįtïćś ēt ûš ādd ėm évèrÿwhērē

 

ỗḫ õv̇êł μɏ øṿėł

 

sadoo trashtalk

lets talk about quality  how ie do you know if sadoos bad or good  insane or mediocre  fact or fiction  false or true or all of the above  none  some of? glad you asked  we happen to have a review of sadoo by weal clown right here

 

weal clowns review of sadoo

sadoo da novel

sadoo da character

sadoo da whonym

sadoo da concept

sadoo da dream

sadoo da sadoo

 

There are books that are stultifyingly tedious. Others are unmitigatedly unintelligent. Some are comprehensively puerile, manifestly redundant, gargantuanly disordered, wastefully irrelevant. Sadoo is noteworthy only for not simply being one of these but all of them.

 

Nonsensically unpleasant, leaving one sweaty with mingled horror and confusion, derivative, a blob of paranoia and vanquished machismo and mansplaining, a gross and gristly wank of a book that oozes contempt for the very norms that enable the author to spew its wretchedness with an authoritarian sense of superiority, a shamelessly and artificially bland daydream, melodramatically inept, a bumbling twisting of language into incomprehensible meaninglessness, solipsistically overwrought, a flogging that will require months of blood transfusions, a grindingly sophomoric exercise in endless onanism, a constipation so dense and dull light seems to bend around it, solipstic and schizophrenic, impenetrable interminable selfindulgent crap, incompetent, defensive, offensive, astonishingly clueless, oblivious, selfabsorbed, unimportant, atrocious, middleschool logorrhea, cringeworthy, pathological, egregiously banal bloviation, a closed and claustrophic world, a mind drowned irrevocably in the everclear of itself, fulsome and unctuous, every stitch of nuance and humour surgically removed, without a shred of emotional engagement, wholly lacking plot, shape, setting, beginning, ending, middle, making the man without qualities look like Mister Attribute, the collapsed and untraceable author is sadly doing what’s already been done endlessly in the masturbatory of postmodernity.

 

Nothing hangs together. We wish we could say it was even calculatingly bad. Enjoying the luxury of living free from discrimination and domination, the Sadoo Consortia fabricate oppression to fictionalize a personal victimhood to pathetically simulate an impossible belonging, comfortable with vast swathes of humans being left to violence, poverty and abuse because ameliorating these evils would remove Sadoo’s opportunity to show its ugly and patent puerility which it pathetically mistakes for originality and brilliance.

 

It demonizes every institution and person who’s ever helped society or it, standing aloof and critical instead of constructively engaging with real people and real problems, committed to a god complex that’s fatuous, bilious, hypocritical, insensate. Claiming superior consciousness without seemingly conscious of its own unconsciousness, it mercilessly attacks everything to futilely hide its own inability to build bridges with anything but its own narcissism. Pretending to profundity and wisdom it instead churns unceasingly an imbecile shallowness, good only for one thing – an unbroken example of rank projection of the author’s immaturity, neuroses, psychoses and pervasive and unacknowledged mental illness.

 

Especially these days, who needs more of this?

(r)aging in a(n) (r)aging (r)age

and youre not even old

 

anything over 35s old and anything over 50s very old

 

agings an extraordinary process where you become the person you always should have been

 

if you have money and fame you can be 107 and still young   money buys youth   fame buys immortality

 

the older you get the older you want to get 

 

real agings becoming more isolated and poor and sick each year until you die in a disgrace that you never would have tolerated at 30 but have become so gradually used to its become a kind of dignity  in a loneliness so acute its become a kind of community of interior logorrheic fiends  familiars of crypts  voices of wraiths of eliphaz bildad zophar

 

wrinkles merely indicate where the smiles have been

 

whonyms cant help but use whatever powers at hand and to rationalize this power through ideologies and virtues  a central power at hand in todays world is youth

 

one trades the virility of the body for the virility of the spirit

 

with the gradual disappearance of the past and the consequent devaluation of elder knowledge   whether trees tortoises oceans or pebbles   youth  and by youth we mean anything with power  actualphysicalyouth money etc   cant help but seize the weapons available to them and annihilate the enemy which is age

 

we dont grow older we grow riper

 

the enemy  the old  then cant help but get increasingly nuts as they get older because the weapons of today in socalled civilized societies  at least among those not allowed to have guns or not desperate or nuts enough to have guns  arent guns but polite denigrations silent exiles

 

for the unlearned old age is winter  for the learned its the season of harvest

 

the young dont use the swat of a single lion to kill you  they use ten thousand bites of many gnats over many years to kill you and then attribute the killing to their enemy which is nature but they cant call nature because that wouldnt be polite and by nature they mean age  when really the gnats are also responsible  

 

you cant help getting older but you can help getting old

 

this as they say is progress   everyone knows that whonyms are radically tribal but with blood becoming like everything  virtualized  the tribe is now the random conglomerate of about 29 factors that comprise your being able to tolerate anybody else   

 

when it comes to staying young a mindlift beats a facelift anyday

 

of course modernity being modernity and having only the constancy of insanity and the old having nothing but being the tribe of the old and who wants to talk about that as being old is the ultimate not having anything in common and not being able to tolerate anything or anyone  have no tribe and so they go nuts

 

those who love deeply never grow old

 

what do you do if youre old? nothing  well you go nuts but nuts is nothing

 

theres no such thing as aging  only maturing and knowledge

 

actually what i suggest if youre old and nuts is that you invent beautiful theories that are completely impossible in tribal reality  that is the reality of virtualized blood and virtueized power

 

aging isnt lost youth but a new stage of opportunity and strength

 

since youre nuts anyway you might as well have fun being nuts  or if not fun at least beauty and if not beauty at least theory and if not theory at least something and if not something at least nuts  and a something other than being drowned in platitudes  so some would call inventing beautiful impossible theories nuts and some would call it retreating or advancing to the imagination and some would say these practically are the same and if theres anything practical here weve achieved something but what that is who could say

 

to find joy in work is to find the fountain of youth

 

the best thing to do as the tortoises have always told us is to stay silent or talk only to oneself or ones cat  dogs are out  dogs suck  and minimally transactionally only as necessary to whonyms in the world as required to get food and drink   to go nuts and make beautiful theories or just theories  it doesnt matter if theyre ugly  and initiate nothing with anyone for everyone just uses you to increase their share of sanity by taking whatever little of yours you have left  

 

the first half of life is finding out how to live   the second half is enjoying it

 

this silence and isolation migrate one into virtual death years even decades before one physically transmogrifies and if your theories are good  and by good i mean something well talk about some other time  really good  the transmogrification itself is transmogrified so that you dont even die really  all you dos orbit around another bout of silence and if the geometry changes         oh well      thats geometry for you

 

age is no barrier  its a limitation you put on your mind

 

a sacred responsibility as a member of the old  which is to say the mad  which is to say the depossessed & possessed  which is to say the atribal which is to say which is to say  is to enter into the madness so fully  as a yogi might enter its practice and an olympic swimmer its discipline and a burrower its burrow and precip a cloud and breaded avocado a vegan maw and corpses the earth and booze an alcoholic and

 

the longer i live the more beautiful life becomes

 

the fear and loathing of the young and powerful toward the old will only increase and everybody will stay in their proper tribes and warfare will be kept to a minimum even though it wont because were talking about whonyms and bed & bellow sack & blight whonyms hate all the aging creatures of the world

 

count your age by friends not years

 

im really young

multiple choice exam

every great novel has to have an exam in it and sadoo  being the greatest of novels by not being one  knows the only worthy form of exams the multiple choice as it gives the appearance of relative ease but a savvy instructor can fuck with students far more than any other form and of course its way easier to grade and every poofessor knows its all about easier to grade and fucking with students that educations all about  so while this isnt sadoos first exam it is its most laconic and laconicism while we dont necessarily admire it is at least far undervoiced compared to its famous siblings logorrhea garrulousness verbosity blather volubility loquaciousness wittering   and sadoo as we know overall in its excessive wordiness sides with the famous not because it believes in them anymore than the critically endangered laconic but to show it has at least some capacity to participate in the current      but the current gets enough attention and anyway the exam started out laconic but         so now to the exam

 

circle the number beside the line most likely said by

the professional at the top of each question

 

the minimum time limit to complete the exam is nine

years   submit your completed exam to noonepasses@coldmail.gov along with

naked photo

id your physical address and banking information

 

politician

            i.                  i love criceeam beanutputter wandsiches

         ii.                  theres no greater challenge and there is no greater honor than to be in public service

      iii.                  why dont you just strip right now and lean over my desk and ill get you into that vacancy in Defense

      iv.                  our chief and perhaps only mandate is to reduce the whonym global population by 90% by whatever means and however covertly

 

artist

            i.                  in my life i routinely use ritual to officially build intangible toxicity in my heart and mind   after the ceremony the ritualistic objects become symbols of confusion alienation weakness exploitation and these symbols become the raw material of my art

         ii.                  im in constant need of validation from others in whatever form is opportunistically available

      iii.                  artists are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration  the unacknowledged legislators of the world

      iv.                  i like to think of myself as a saanvi of all trades twitching between mediums  hopscotching around warm fuzzies & gigglies  whimsying through the abjections and horrors that are all around and inside me

and since were unfortunately speaking of artists are they the same as racists and sexists and speciests and classists  those stupidly prejudiced against those who do art  but those who do art are artists  does that mean artists are prejudiced against themselves and thiss why theyre so fucked up all the time? or can we separate those who do art  artists  and those who hate those who do art  artistists or misoartists or so as not to confuse the latter with those who do miso art artistophobes? this isnt part of the multiplechoice exam and even though its visually included you should visually separate it in your mind to ensure it maintains its separateness and noones sure why we included it other than every exam needs some uncomic relief

 

gangsta or polytician or since polyticians dont exist monotician

            i.                  it makes no difference what people think of war  war endures   as well ask people what they think of stone  war was always here  before humans were war waited for them   the ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner   that is the way it was and will be  that way and not some other way

         ii.                  i asked god for a gun but i know god doesnt work that way  so i stole a gun and asked for forgiveness

      iii.                  you can get much further with a kind word and a gun than you can with just a kind word

      iv.                  i play by my own rules and my own rules are guns guns guns

 

socialjusticewarrior

            i.                  darkness only can drive out darkness  only love can drive out love

         ii.                  be the madness you wish to see in the world

      iii.                  together we can do so little  alone we can do so much

      iv.                  the just person is not the product of a day but of a long brooding and painful birth   to become a power for peace and truth a person must first pass through experiences which lead them to see things in their different aspects  it is necessary that they have a wide horizon and breathe various atmospheres  in a word from crossing one after another paths and points of view the most diverse and sometimes the most contradictory they must acquire the faculty of putting themselves in the place of others and appreciating them

 

there   youre done   kill yourself

 

rosie & the monolith

in this minimalist yet expansive installation void-based artist ooQ erects fundamental questions of place and relation. integrating the functionally mundane in juxtapositions of material and utility rosie and the monolith subtly evokes the uncanny through softly comic subversions

 

ostensibly the room contains only 4 thin strips of new carpet, a fluffy white pillow, an inactive robot vacuum, 2 indoor ladders, as well as less easily identifiable objects such as reversed boot mats posing as art pieces, a waterfall of old faintly-smelly carpets half-discreetly lurking in a corner, a collapsed plastic storage container, numerous random small household objects on the mantle … and near the center an inescapable striped box monolith supporting a mildly broken wooden clothes drying rack … the overall impression one of commodious and comfortable disorganization, of work that not only isn’t being done but can’t be done, stultified by its own silent self-consciousness

 

what does one do in this room? vaguely suggesting domesticity its understated irrationality and absurdity destabilize our expectations. one’s inexorably drawn to walk a square around the monolith on the 4 carpets, liminally summoning the frequently unconscious movement inevitabilities of customer flow in retail space management environments … but equally compelled to wander off, arousing notions of border and transgression – as if the carpets were suspended over an infinite nothingness and to move off them to fall into voids of ... of what? domesticity? artifacts? proscription? and in this negation of purchase are these commodities or anti-commodities … are they even objects? or are we? what’s questioning what?

 

all this in a stately but modest and well-windowed room which in its variegations of light and shadow playing on the floor and walls might be a scene near the end of 2001: a space odyssey after Dr. Bowman is transmogrified and the universe collapses into a simple room of ambiguous and mystical quotidiana – a geometry of displacement, of the thing questioning its own thingness by means of equal proximate questionings, shapes nearly animate in their uneventfulness

 

and how do we respond to the title – rosie and the monolith – which seems to define too much what must defy definition? why not carpets old and new or a tottering rack? and who is rosie?

expressing the inexpressible through the expressible this quietly daring work challenges our often unquestioned assumptions of space … and through space – time, object, money, identity … and reality itself 

rosie & the monolith first appeared

in fatapor gallery on an east side in a decline of empire

before the cliffs of memory

before an opening that never happened

before an after that might have been before

aunty novel including the hit single the dizens & kaizens & karōshis & mizzens & zens zong song

antinovels the same as novel and its this thought that causes noveloos and antinoveloos alike to stumble  of course novels not the same as antinovel but they are the same and were back to antıı and all its belıefıfying and antıbelıefıfyıng ııs  pronounced eyeeyez though we told you wed never tell you this again  meaning something akin to something ı once thought meant something

 

speaking of  ı was once in one of the barschmucks in noccaught place  one of the barschmucks that used to exist anyway before the ōvid in øvïl ate the ôvìl in övíd and who knows if helldi itself exists anymore  as far as ı and antıı can tell its thirty million dharmizens have slid down the bugtube into hıṃsā  when auntıe antı walks in and says

 

you see  you got the r504 which was built from the bones of a million whonyms and who knows how many animals since we sort of count the whonyms even the nameless ones the nameless ones at least have numbers even if theyre inexact which makes them less important than the whonyms who at least have numbers but exact ones but the animals dont even have numbers and so when you drive on the kolyma youre driving on death and it got ı thinking this isnt much different than how weve built society which is built on the bones of billions and billions and billions of whonyms and trillions and trillions and trillions of amınals and when we do anything at all were doing it on death

 

and the four hundred whonyms sipping their eight hundred rupee lattes rise with their dharmaknives and stab aunty antı and make a chaır from her and sit on her and talk of dizens and kaizens and karōshis and mizzens and zens

th^ediz^en^s&_kai z  ^en^s&^karōshis&mizz^en^s z^en^sz_on_g^s_on_g

everybodys at the centre of the world

everybodys at the centre of the world

everybodys at the centre of the world

and the centre             isnt            there

what have you done my love with my brain

it used to be in tipoli but now its in the rain

chorus

what have you done my love with my soul

saw it once in my bleeding cunt but now everythings a hole

chorus

what have you done my love with my flesh

my body was a glory but now its just a mess

chorus

what have you done my love with my heart

so playful yesterday but now   smegma malice farts

chorus                         chorus                         chorus                         chorus                         chorus

 

chorus to the tune of shadworth qadhadhfa in the habitude

verses one three & four to the tune of chicane basserabie

verse two sans air

 

horrible isnt it   crude misogynistic forgettable plagiaristic infantissimo clunked

no one needs these puerilities anymore

 

if only we were all as mature as oh bomb ah

if our fathers were only all oh bomb ah

if our mothers were only all oh bomb ah

we wouldnt have any stupid songs