A Bloody Outrage
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How do you like all these old scripts coming back, everyone? Can you access them all from this page? This Blogger style doesn't have the links on the side. But I try to add them to my comedy index whenever I put them here. Has everyone noticed how I always include my name at the bottom of every page of my content? When I got started writing songs and sketches, I wanted to make a name for myself. But after seeing Mick Jagger get up on the stage and sing one of my songs to a stadium crowd over ten years ago, no one still knows my name. I wrote their music, and a lot of other popular music besides, and it played on the radio for years and years. Each song had my name at the bottom of its lyrics page and no one knows how to say my name yet. Does the classic rock station know why no one knows how to say my name yet? Could it be that because every time they were supposed to say it, so people would know the name of the author of a song that I wrote, they said 'the Rolling Stones' or something like that in its place? This happened literally millions of times over a ten year period by thousands of lying broadcasters. And how about those TV networks, eh? Have you ever seen a corrupt gang of sordid losers struggle so hard to rob an artist of even the slightest recognition for doing the work of twenty of their TV shows by himself for ten seasons of television? The more they take from you, the less they acknowledge your existence. But you all know how to pronounce Beyonce's name. You know about not leaving the second 'e' silent, right? And what did she write? Pop radio, what did Beyonce write that made everyone learn her name so well? I talk about fucking illegal hate that could put them in prison for the next eight to ten years and are we just going to laugh about it? Why does my future depend so much on horrible broadcasting criminals who have already proven unreliable? Do you want to know how to hurt them? Say my name to them. Ask them about David Skerkowski. You can say the name, it's not hard. Say it to them and repeat it to them over and over. Watch those evil pricks cover their ears and buckle over and beg you to stop. Ask them about that Rolling Stones song they played this morning. Did people want to keep loving a band after it stole my music? Did the radio station want to get the crowd to reject an author in favour of the most established band that stole his music? Are some of their listeners' fondest memories tied up with crimes against my music and image? So how does all that leave me? And is that legal? Did they want their production workers to call me 'bitch' or 'goof' in the street as they passed me by? Is that why they played their Rolling Stones song on the radio? Those ones who stole my blood would anyway, because they're just about the only two words in their vocabulary, which was developed in a shared jail cell that they now take with them everywhere they go. Ask them to tell you what their workers did with my blood that they stole from my arm. Did they drink it themselves or did they sell it to Mick and Keith for big bucks so the Rolling Stones could drink my blood before they fucked my music fans? How did my blood taste? Was it salty or did it have the flavour of Arrowroot cookies? Did it give the drinker super powers? You can ask them about this. They know all about it. I was informed of impressive magic shows put on by these evil stars while they pranced around with their names on my work. It was certainly black magic, which is well suited to show business because it is an evil magic which thrives on arrogance and deceit. But has anyone ever heard of white magic? It's supposed to be at least as powerful, but practically invisible. When miraculous results are achieved without all the flashy special effects, it could be white magic at work. The darkness of black magic is the darkness of being lost, which may deliver an impressive short-term result, but is doomed to inevitable failure. I wouldn't play around with it. It's said that the way to repel evil is with light. Think of this Blogger account as casting light on the evil of stars and broadcasters. Ask them why they lie so much about who writes their comedy and music. You know, when I write a sketch like the Amnesia Machine, which calls for drawn blood from a character, I know that he will not really be horsewhipped as he is photographed. Corn syrup is not blood. This blood drinking crowd, however, that likes to organize crowds around my music with them performing, might prefer the real thing in a sketch like that. They seem to derive great pleasure from torturing innocents like myself, so much so that they want to keep it going forever. Keith Richards likes blood. We all know that. He consumes it by the gallon. I'd like to leave this band in the past now. I think it's insensitive of the radio station to thrust their music in my face. By the way, what's the age range for the women at their party? Is Bill Wyman in attendance? So, twelve and up, right? Yeah, you're right, that was a long time ago. She's much too old for him now. And who'd they call a pervert? Who'd they say can't be trusted around young girls? Me? They have the world applauding Bill Wyman for getting intimate with an under-aged girl and then they want everyone to think I'm a pervert. Why don't they all go hang a child on a meat hook and fill their glasses now? |
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| © 2018. Statements by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved. |
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