Jesus was born on a starry night. Three Shepards took time off from work, a couple of wise men followed a star. Born in a barn, they realised God�s son was a sheep. Gifts of Gold, franensence and myer were given to the growing foul. A new God was born. A sheepgod he went to school and got bullied. People couldn�t handle the Son of God tearing around the classroom and annoying people with his bleeting. The careers adviser at the comprehensive was very taken aback by this startling young lamb. �Baa!� he said �I am the son of God. Please don�t mince me�.
�OK said the careers officer, I will only remove your hair and make it into a jacket. �OK� said the sheep. King flibble shall pay for his agriculture policy and all around me shall rejoce. I am the one, the only son of sheep. Born to a virgin and together we shall fall. I am here to save humanity. I will die on a===== cross for you. Save the people and relese you from sin.�
�We�re only sinful because the way God made us.� Said the careers person. If God had made us perfect then we�d be OK�.but �no budget materials and no life make God a crap designer. Even the first people he made sinned against him�so humanity can never live up to it�s expectations. It�s a fucking bunch of arse!!! And you�re sent down here to mop it all up. I can�t believe you. You some kind of magic sheep? This book could be so good but at the moment it�s crap because I�m bored on reading week, pschyolically imbalanced and tempted to play solitare as lara croft machine isn�t in scotts room. Then I couold go bacdk to barnsely where days meld into each other and I don�t know what I�m here for or if I can hack it artistically. Frustration grows inside me. I�ve been going round the same circles for years, never getting anywhere nearer. Another month another project. Fartarse, harmony, celotape it, mis-spelt, diary, fucking pc alex peters, website, the never ending toment getting me nowhere. Not nearer to a career or love or a jolly nice shag. It�s all so futile. So annyoing and the years flow past, fiendships rust and I decay. My heart pounds, the dog gets older and wrinckles start to crack up my face. When will it all end?
I�m going to watch the rest of quincy and neglect my body. I�ve just started to sneeze.