The gospel of Itchy Wiggle Christ by Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

if the contest were based on looks and talent, i would have won the contest hands down. you are the bitch who cheated me out of a quarter million dollars. something stinks in the bowels of humanity. handicapped retards are running the world into the dirt. dirty urine is flowing from the water faucets, and you fools are drinking it. mcdonalds is offering a new item, the big shit royale, it is a bread bun with a piece of stinking shit in between, ketchup and mustard and pickles piled on top, and any down-trodden european who buys a big shit royale and eats the whole hamburger will be given a free plane ticket to america, where they can live free with all the other slaves and retards in the usa. ronald mcdonald can be found at the nearest elementary school molesting small children sexually and giving them free hamburgers if they promise not to tell their parents where ronald was putting his "mc heinrich hot dog". yes, something stinks to high heaven in this great free country. kill the muslims to keep oil prices low. give your hyperactive children heavy anti-depression medication to calm them down and don´t be surprised when your ten year old kills itself. best of all, keep the anarchist irish boy named itchy locked up in prison for no reason and give him anti-depression medication to be sure he does not kill himself and ensure that he suffers endlessly in the pit of hell you call prison. the answer to every american problem: feed it drugs and meat. the answer to life: death. i sleep now, i am tired of being awake but not tired bodily. but i can sleep, ´cause i was a good boy and i took my medication. goodnight, retards. feed the worm moist vaginal mucous. the nazis are laughing.

slime, filth, puke, shit, disease, and morning. death in the morning, living is death, waking up alive is dying another horrible painful death, cursing god and all his devious sick plans to torture me yet another goddamned day. i had such dreams and now i have only sick schwarze faggot predators and noise and stink of diseased minds and impure thoughts, failures in evolution.

someone told me that i was extremely arrogant and condescending with my attitude regarding my high intelligence. i told that someone that they were entirely too stupid and retarded to even understand how superior my intellect really is, and i laughed.

another night after another day of work - painting and painting and painting and some kind of creativity involved in there somewhere. suddenly everything i believed was all blown into pieces, and all my dreams shatter, all my reality of who i am and what i´ve become slams me on the head and my brains splatter all over the toilet, my brains came out through my nose, the old egyptian way with a sharp pointed hook, except the pieces of my brain were laughing at me, ha ha ha itchy, you are a prisoner and no one gives a flying shit and you could die in prison and no one will ever know. there are no dreams anymore, there are only realities, and reality sucks. the female black widow spider bites the head off the male after she mates with him, so what happens when two female black grufti spider girls mate with each other? does one bite the other while getting her breasts stroked? - didn´t the last thought of the end of my world count for something? cannot my energy be transformed into action as i was taught it could be? can´t i end this madness within and without me? no, and i only go to my dreams and tonight i will cry a little bit. i am missing someone who doesn´t care about me, i feel very sad. but not depressed. i can´t be. goodnight, grufti girls.

it´s morning, 09:00, some nameless wednesday - i was "napping", which is really no less than a coma-chemical sleep - strange dreams that almost disturb me - erotic and bizarre, a dark haired evil girl that constantly wants me to fuck her and eat her pussy, she was a spy in a house full of strange people, and a tornado was blowing, but i knew it only meant that the aliens were coming, so i ran across farm fields to find the aliens, and they gave me a psychedelic grape that i was to use when i needed their help, so i thought to use the grape to get out of prison, and i ate it, and all sorts of time-shift changes happened and i was thrown into a strange world where i was in a house with many women and i was kissing them all and having sex with many of them, then there was another house i was supposed to buy and it was inhabited by a strange old woman and her retarded son, and i took to painting on the walls with silver paint and other psychedelic colors, and laughing very hard ´cuz i was making pictures that i knew would really make the retard go crazy, and the strange dark-haired girl was there again. i do not know if these dreams have any meaning, i´m still in a kind of drug-haze as i write this, but i sure wish i had a magic psychedelic grape to eat.

i am A-okay. this is weird. night of the jackal, purple visions, pranks played on my subconscious mind. cream of vegetable soup the color of blood. spent the whole day painting one thing - 14 hours of purple watercolor in some chaotic-psychedelic pattern with pink filling in spaces. 14 hours of this! i am some kind of fanatic psychopath, completely obsessed with my painting at times. well, most of the time actually. maybe i have some kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder. then again, i really think i have to have this disorder in order to paint as i do. so i have o-c disorder along with a grocery list of other psychological maladies. i´m not a well man. i often believe i know exactly how vincent felt. we have a great deal in common. goodnight, retards.

and again another morning in hell, full moon bright in the sky, cold and promising to get colder, the michigan arctic winter will come soon.

a child daycare center in detroit was visited by a nice schwarze with a gun who decided to shoot a bunch of kiddies and two women, a little girl was beaten to death by the gunman also. in iraq, muslim insurgents blew up an army intelligence center, killing one american and wounding dozens. what a wonderful world i am missing by being imprisoned. i wonder if i am the only person who notices that there is hardly ever any news from ireland? there is a news blackout put on by the english to discourage the IRA from gaining any world support. but what about the republic of ireland? hmm. i had some sad dreams last night, i woke up in tears. it is very early and i want to work on the purple-pink painting. it is some kind of celtic devil or bull of both. but the nazi cops will not turn on the lights, they do this supposedly to keep the prisoners calm and sleepy, but in reality it only gives the faggots darkness in order to commit their foul and unnatural deeds. i missed breakfast, opting to lay in my bed and think. sometimes i just lay and let all my thoughts flood through my mind, one thought after the other, almost like a dream but usually it is only bad or sad thoughts, all interconnecting to one another. a girl told me not long ago that it seems i should have some kind of good luck coming, because in the last years i have had nothing but bad luck. if it were not for bad luck i would have no luck at all, blues, despair, and agony on me. ja, some good luck seems to be in order, but in reality i believe i am only stuck in a slow progression towards the final days of my life, i cannot take much more of this torture, but i think i must also leave this world with these words and with a few hundred paintings, just like vincent did.

night night night, all my fears on fire, all my dreams ready to flood my mind. worked since 09:00 til now, 22:30 or so, the celtic bull-devil thing. it seems silly to me, but, well, i am silly - silly and disturbed and casually frightened of my impending end. then again, i was thinking today about how i just don´t care much anymore - i´ve been in prison so goddamned long that i´m starting to not care anymore. i get hardly any mail, no one seems to care much - why should i care then? life is a terrible frightening experience and i don´t want to be scared anymore.

dirty hopeless mindless suck-ass morning of lost dreams and a wasted life. carnage, burning, rape, pillaging, bubonic plague on the rise once again, black rats spreading the disease among the unclean. this is my morning in hell, my torture, my memories of this life and the lives i led before. 80 people dead in the US army attack on muslims insurgents. the killer of the little girl and two women in detroit at the child day-care school still is on the loose. i lived as a european in many of my lives, during the dark ages, during world war II? - i am hurting so badly to go back, to live and die in europe, hopefully to die in my home, ireland. i dream of my past lives. horrific bombing in baghdad killed hundreds of children. soon detroit will face "devils night", the night before halloween in which the schwarze "devils" will set the city of detroit on fire and commit random and rampant acts of violence. although it is quite apparent that the schwarze devils do not need a specific night to commit acts of violence, the burning and gunfire becomes a bit more elevated on devils night in detroit. i hope the entire goddamned city of detroit blows up and sinks into a giant pit to the depths of hell itself, to deliver all the filth and skum of detroit to where it belongs. i am all for a new plague that will wipe out all the idiots and morons and rape-hop music listeners and the predator faggots and the violent retarded pieces of shit that have no business being alive and free in the first place. a "stupid-killer-plague", yes, that is the answer. i hope the CIA is reading this.

a dirty hopeless night to accompany my dirty hopeless day, but as always my medicated sleep will rip the filth of the day from my tortured mind and i will have peace, assuming of course that