I implore you as he implored she, please don't have unprotected sex: unprotected sex causes wanted or unwanted pregnancy, and pregnancy (both) causes babies and dead babies, and babies have aids, and rich babies have aides. Careful does it, fuckso. I realise there are those that walk amongst you as he walked amongst she who want unwanted sex for protected pregnancy, and other combinations of uns and ununs, and are willing to take the dangerous risk of a baby with aids and aides, but aids is not something to be fucked with, and babies have it, and babies are the number one recipients of aids in babies, which is not nice, but at least they don't shit quite so much. Babies are sweet, but they have aids, and they're unwanted, unplanned, wanted, protected, aids-ridden, and anyway, who'd bring a baby into a world like this? Parents, that's 'oo. Babies taste of aids, Eddie (Izzard, not Hoovercock) says so.
I deplore of paragraphs as he deplored of she, but they're a necessary evil
to mask the evil of the good guys, and smooth the bitter aidsy fore- during
and aftertaste of the babies. Butand here's the rub, like he rubbed she into
a frenzy of friction burns, without paragraphs more babies would have aids
than currently have aids. Allow me to explain: baby A has aids, and can't
use paragraphs for baby A is just a baby with a big A branded into its face,
so people know it has aids and shouldn't be blooddrunk - cruel, inhuman
treatment, but you get what you pay for, and baby A can't afford aides, so
baby A gets a big fuckso A on its face; I'm not happy about it, I've signed
petitions, but they won't listen to petitions unless they're written on
cheques, fucking good people. That's baby A. Baby B on the other hand has a
big fuckso B branded on its other hand. Baby B also has aids, but because of
the spelling, it's bids, which is far less deadly unless you wander into an
overeagerauctionroom, which we all do from time to time. Baby B can't use
paragraphs either, being just a baby, but it can do something or other just
as he did to she, and this something or other is just such a something or
other that proves that babies and aids are a deadly mix when mixed with
paragraphs and gelignite.
I explore the possibilities of babies and gelignite just as he explored of
she. The explosion is more aidsbloody than the heshe explosion, more
explosiony, more babyy, more unhesheunprotectedunwantedfuckso, but. But.
Baby C is free of aids, and is whisked away by scientists to explore the
mysteries of quite how a baby is born without aids, and yet is still branded
with a big fuckso letter on its back, signifying that's it's been calibrated
carefully by Chuck. Scientists pack baby C full of gelignite (invented by
the same man who gave us the Booker Prize, originally intended as a way to
prevent poorly-written, pretentious books which gain minor notoriety amongst
uberunters from ever crawling out of the fireplace. Originally) and explode
it, with plenty of video cameras taping at many million frames per second -
way too many to be of any practical use, but you know what it's like: buy
more than you need and you'll be able to play cool games too. They watch the
splatter of unaidsprotected blood in supersuperslomomojovoodoowhodoyoudo,
and notice that it splatters in kinda a sorta circlish shape. Compared with
the exploded bloodsplatter of baby A or baby B, the shape is too similar to
be conclusive. All the babies are dead from aids, or aids-related
experiments. That's a sad thing.