28.03.08

Da 6ft White Wabbit failed to show this week.

No great surprise, the bugga drinks Jack, inhales weed, somehow manages to get the needle to the vein to soak up buckets of 'A' grade pharmaceuticals then on one long weekend tries to deliver chocolate eggs to all the unbelievers in The Land of the Long White Cloud.

Made the mistake of delivering to a farm as well, warned him last year about that, the 6000 year old dog spent yesterday biting pellets out of Wabbit's fried arse, had to pick a farm in Ruatoria, not smart, got fire bombed as well.

No fur left on him now, no need to worry about waxing lyrical or his cute little cotton tail.

Still with all the fur off Wabbit's found he's almost translucent and with this feature comes hundreds of access points to the needle he insists on crucifying himself on, though of all weekends the last one was the most appropriate to think of Him on High and go out in a Blaze of Glory, and with class A thumping through veins modified to take a big bore needle the size of a boy racers muffler; Glory is what he felt, but she didn't stay long, she never does, that's why we always grasp at the Dragon, trying to catch the tail, to feel the Power, the Height and the Wind though we know it's not meant for us, not real, and coming down hurts more than the pain we had when we leapt at the delusion of peaceful oblivion.

Wow, getting a bit serious there, has to be the lack of alcohol in my system, need to return to The Base for my fuel.


For Lent the Wabbit decided to give up cigarettes.


Apparently they're bad for you.


(Jack time)




The Grey Madness, golem, his 6000 year old dog and the 6ft White Wabbit.