Entrada destacada

Recordeu, si us plau. Alguns dels llibres formats d’extractes d’aquest dietari, hom se’ls pot desar, si així li rota, i de franc, anant a aqueixa adreça.

Recordeu, si us plau. Alguns dels llibres formats d’extractes d’aquest dietari, hom se’ls pot desar, si així li rota, i de f...

Dietari execrable

<a href="http://archive.org/details/@cr_morell/">Dietari execrable</a>
  • http://archive.org/details/@cr_morell
  • dissabte, de gener 07, 2006

    Mena the Menace, Zapped

    Mena the Menace, Zapped


    In Asspain, a country of fascists,
    A general called Turdsucker Mena,
    Dubbed “Mena the Menace” appropriately enough
    By the stupid rank and file,
    Has been zapped by that famous zapper,
    Zap-a-taro, the pres of the fascists
    In Merd-Is, their lugubrious abode.

    The sin of general Turdsucker de Mena
    Wasn’t so great — only saying aloud
    What the rest of ‘em killers dares not quite
    Say, but what the rest of ‘em fascists
    Yell everyday from the radios, the pulpits,
    The tvs, the papers, and whatnot,
    Namely that the Catalonians
    Deserve not only annihilation by the regular
    Fascist methods at hand, as, say, suppressing
    Their culture, and forbidding their
    Most basic rights, as is use of language, and so on,
    But, again through panzers and bombers,
    By bloody and massive physical elimination too,
    At once and once and for all…

    Turdsucker said: “We, the fascist guardians, must
    Enter as a conquering army into Catalonia
    And leave no stone unturned,
    After we’ve left no stone over stone of what used
    To be their doomed country. We are armed and they are
    Not. We’ll win that fucking war for sure. We’ve
    Never won another, ever. Either the fucking frogs
    Or the nazis and Mussolini’s thugs have won
    The wars against Catalonia for us, or we’ve lost
    Them fucking all. Time to retaliate!”

    Zap-a-rutabaga, the pres, confronted to such
    Obvious candor,
    Had to zap him. “Boy,” he said, “don’t you fucking
    Know those kind of silly words
    Aren’t fit for the fetid mouth of a
    Turdsucking military officer…?
    You’re fried, my friend, at least momentarily,
    Until the dust and the ashes settle;
    In the meantime, zap, go to hell…
    Boy, don’t you understand?
    Or else our hidden strategy becomes too apparent,
    We might frighten into action some vacuous
    European organization,
    Let’s say, who knows, in Holland,
    Where they sometimes take a closer
    Look at human rights…
    Or even, who knows, Slovenia, Poland…,
    Countries used to resist annihilation from neighbors
    Too avid to zap them to oblivion.”

    Then Zap-a-Horseradish said:
    “Not even that piece of soft shit, king One Callous,
    Would dare say as much as you did.
    He’s not saying let’s enter and bleed them to death,
    He’s much more diplomatic, he’s saying
    Let’s stay united, meaning let’s bleed them to death
    By peaceful means, let’s annihilate them
    By bleeding them dry, as we were so smoothly doing
    Since they lost the war against fascism,
    And always, of course, with the cowardly
    Complicity of the Europeans: They don’t see
    The blood on tv, that’s good enough for them.
    They don’t see that the work of Franco and his
    Fascists is kept on track by us “democratic
    Nationalist asspainers”; they don’t want blood,
    They like the extortions clean.

    Whom are you waking up, you creep…?
    Fuck the Catalonians,
    They are nobody, can’t do shit, unarmed,
    Broken up, untongued, unrepresented,
    Slovenly slaves, rightless, in the vile shackles
    Of an alien constitution, filthy beggars all… And
    Do you want to kill off such a source of cheap
    Parasitical bloodsucking… Whom the fuck
    Are you trying to alert…? Let’s hope
    The inured Europeans heard nothing;
    In any case, here you are, dormant — zapped!

    Worry nor, my lovely.
    Little lullaby on the side — here’s me zapping
    You, dear honeypot, with my harmless magic wand…

    Now take a few winks, at least
    (As I was saying,) till the fatherland
    Your loyal services
    Doesn't indeed need again, of course…”





    [A song sung by plenty witty Midge Omission.]



    gits del guit per als quatre gats pus aguts

    en Qrim son incert guaitajorns