Day, baDay, baWaddlaDaDay, inBadday, inBadday, inBaWaddlaDaDay, Gwan

Hello again, it's me, Old Father Rave, here to eddycate your ass.

SPOONER

That’s right, I’ve got Tourettes! Tourettes is a terrible condition that makes me say and do things COMPLETELY AGAINST MY WILL.

FLANGE SPOON

Tourettes is a disorder of the bonce that I contracted from watching television without goggles. Now that my life is CURSED with this BLIGHT I’ve found myself doing all sorts of deeds that would otherwise be considered shameful. Why, just yesterday I was caught shoplifting pickled eggs from Squirrel-Mart ™, so I had to explain to the squirrel shop-keepers that I have a terrible condition that makes me do ANYTHING I WANT – it’s not my fault, I explained, my condition makes it impossible for me not to do just exactly what I want at any moment. Then I told them what absolute w*nker’s they were, which again was caused by my accursed Tourettes, and departed with my mechanical bed filled to the brim with luxurious pickled eggs.

Naturally the squirrels gave chase, no doubt wanting to learn more about my condition, but my Tourettes caused me – against my will – to shoot mince at them with my catapult, and then to steal Hornswaggler’s car and drive off at high speed, with tyres squealing, leaving a cloud of dust slowly settling atop the squirrels’ fuzzy heads. Then I joy-rode the car to a giant mega-rave and danced frenziedly until dawn, when I welcomed the new day in by torching the car (see below) and dancing around its blazing remains whooping with delight, supping heartily at a can of nutritious mineral water before going for a well earned nap under a hedge.





FECK, FECKING FECK

I hope that my humble blog can spread awareness about this cruel syndrome, which also caused me to impersonate a policeman, to attempt to bribe a policeman, to assault a policeman, to impersonate a judge, to impersonate a lolly-pop man, to urinate in public, AND OTHER ACTS THAT WOULD NORMALLY BE CONSIDERED CRIMES WITHOUT THE TOTAL JUSTIFICATION OF TOURETTES. So, SEND ME MONEY so that I can continue these important charitable works.

We can all do our part to spread awareness – TOGETHER, WE CAN CHANGE THE WORLD.

FAT FUDGE FECK FLAPS

Now crew... Dat one absolutely wicked, for real... Now 'ear dis one... LIGHTER!

ADVERTISMENT

…Presenting to you…

Squirrel-Core Nosebleed Blundermuffin Tekno Volume 23…

Featuring…

The King of Hardcore Badger Beat,
The wikkidy-wick Junglebass Raveologist,
The boogaloo donkey-bang ringle-rangle-Raggaman...

...

DJ BONKERS

(Yes, that’s me, Uncle Techno, AKA OLD FATHER RAVE)

Featuring the international mega-singalong-hits…

1.) Gabbercore On Stilts

“Alive, alive o!
Alive, alive o!
Glowsticks and Vaporub,
Alive, alive o!”

2.) Unicycling Jugglecore

“Let me take you by the hand,
And lead you through the streets of RAVEton…”

And…

3.) Whistle Along To The Industrial Clown Rave Nazicore

“Who do you think you are kidding Mister Swaggler,
If you think we’re on the run?”

And now a word from Uncle Techno:

“Yuss, my voice is in fine mettle and my swarthy mane’s flowing luxuriantly in the wind, so buy my new album or I’LL KEEL YOU!

Ha ha, don’t be alarmed, just a little joke. Anyway, do buy my album."

Each new hour holds new chances for new beginnngs

Boyakasha! It's me, DR. FREAKMARE. Yuss, Dr. Freakmare's another of my Godly manifestations. Here I am, contemplating the infinite, yesterday.

I'm a bomb-diddy head-shrinker and I'm gonna fix up all your bad dreams. I'm gonna bang about in your dream-bonce with my SPANNER OF PURE LIGHT and bosh all your leaky mind-pipes into shape with my MYSTICAL DREAM POWER.

Don't let Hornswaggler's guff about the huge, deadly dangers put you off. If everything goes to the bad - FOR EXAMPLE, IF I CUT THE WRONG WIRE - and you get trapped forever in dreamland, I'll wake you up with a blast of invigorating Junglebass from my wikkidy-wick rave sound system. Here's a picture of me lovingly polishing it, yesterday.

As a fun experiment I've hooked up my sound system to the Geef Randomiser, and I'm very excited about trying it out on live dreaming subjects. A preliminary test on a blissfully sleeping Hornswaggler, last night, yielded the following result:

YUSS! My machine's a success!

A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down

Well, it’s midsummer, and I’m the Green Man. So, I’m using my wikkid skillz to make the world neater. The world’s a mess and I’m gonna tidy it up, make it neater like. I’ve got my catapult and I’m gonna shoot all the bad people I see walking past my window. All the bad people are trying to steal my nutritious mineral water, they know how precious it is and they want it all for themselves but they didn’t work for it so I’ll have to teach them a lesson, yeah? I’ve got a pair of tights on my head so no-one can see me. Except for all the eyes floating around outside – as soon as I’ve cattied all the bad, untidy people I’ll have to do something about the eyes. Allow eyes man. I’ll smash their windows and shoot mince into their houses with my catty. What’s that you say? – no, I’m not paranoid, I’m just gritting my teeth as hard as I can because I don’t want to drop my pipe. It’s made of diamond and has a hedgehog in it.

Get me my Geef Randomiser so I can make the world tidy! And my Murph Muddler. With my Geef Randomiser and my Murph Muddler I’ll be UNSTOPPABLE! BOO-YAH!

It's a dictation... and it's a definition... of how we're living

Un-fugging-believable! That loser Hornswaggler had the cheek to leave me – the god of the universe (dingalingaling) – a comment! Still, it gave me a good laugh – AT HIM NOT WITH HIM. I would smite him with my godly power but I won’t because then I wouldn’t have anyone to borrow money from. Plus he makes me laugh. But not as much as these pictures of him!

Here, in contrast, is a picture of me sunbathing, yesterday. Gawp away, losers!

Yes, that is a godly light warrior you behold with your silly googly eyes. Get over it.

Now, on to bidness. I want to tell you a little about my sweet love Traybe, the mummy of the Marsh. She’s a goddess, a divine muse and bare buff. Here’s a picture of her relaxing at a rave with a nutritious can of mineral water, yesterday.

Technically I created Traybe, but she also gave birth to the universe – don’t try to understand, it’ll just give you the staggers.

She’s a psychedelic earth faerie, also known as Mrs GAIA, the MUMMY OF ALL THINGS. On midsummer’s eve, as Pan, AKA THE GREEN MAN, I dance the world into rebirth with her (see post below), which is a sight you might recognise from biology class. That night, my spirit enters every leaf and blade of grass – WHICH IS PRETTY FUGGING KEWL, YEAH? – and then I go and make all the ladies swoon DJing at a giant mega-rave, where I play all the wikkidest junglebass dubplates, or perhaps toss off a quick three hour WIG EXPERIENCE guitar solo. Then I drink several cans of health-giving mineral water and go for a nap under a hedge. I wake up when Hornwaggler comes skipping along to buy some croissants for his breakfast, thus beginning the infinite spiraling battle between the eternal forces of good and evil once more. Got it? Good.

Now, off you toddle.

20,000 HARDCORE members, can you dig it?

When it's high summer I become the Green Man. I'm always a GOD, but my Goddishness blooms to super-abundant levels between May and September, peaking at midsummer, when I create the world afresh with my love. Here's a picture of me doing it. Remember, you've got me to be thankful to for this world and all its splendour!

Here's a close-up of my mysterious and wonderful visage. Don't gaze on it for too long as it's more beautiful than your puny mind can take.

Anyway, on to business. I need to explain to you that I'm a super-star DJ. I'm super-duper cool, if you hadn't guessed that already. I've been into rave for far longer than that little twat, Hornswaggler, who thought a rave was a type of goat until last week. When I'm off to a rave I usually try to steal some of my stash of nutritious mineral water from Officer Baloney, who's impounded it. Not that I couldn't just create some more with my TERRIFYING POWER. Then I spin all the wickedest tunes, blowing Hornswaggler out of the water, and making all the ladies swoon. My DJ name is DJ BONKERS. Here's a picture of me DJing, last night.

When you combine my Green Man godliness with My DJ Bonkers skillz you yield my true identity – OLD FATHER RAVE. Come come follow me, follow me hardcore – knocking at your back door, knocking at your side door, knocking at your front door, Har-Hard-CORE.

We are raving, we are raving, stormy waters, cross the sea

I can come into your dreams and do whatever I want, but don't be afraid, I'm usually only popping in to laugh at you. Here's a picture of me in your mind, last night.

If I wanted to I could kill you, so count yourself lucky you're too insignificant for me to bother myself with. Chances are I'm just passing through on my way somewhere more important, like to a rave with my sweet-love Traybe. Here's a picture of us at a rave, yesterday.

BOOM BOOM, SHAKA-LAKA-LAKA BOOM, BOOM BOOM, SHAKA-LAKA BOOM BOOM

I thought some of you stupider people out there might need a few things explained, so I've taken a moment out of my busy schedule as God of the Universe to share some of my infinite wisdom. Before I go any further, I thought you might like to bask in my beauty and to see one of my many forms. That's me, General Shabba Rank of Marshia. I'm the best man in the whole wide world.

Hornswaggler, on the other hand, isn't. I want to clear up some common misconceptions about Hornswaggler. I created him, so I could destroy him if I wanted - I JUST DON'T WANT TO RIGHT NOW. OK? I get a lot of pleasure from laughing at him and humiliating him. He's also a member of The Wig Experience, but, as everyone knows, I'm the true genius behind the band, not him.

Hornswaggler's a small mustard rhinoceros abomination with a really annoying squeaky voice. He's gay - UNLIKE ME! - except he has a girlfriend, called Gherkin, who's an elephant. He and I used to hang out together, getting up to... stuff... we lived above a convenience store... until he decided to jack it all in and go straight. So he cut off his third horn - which he thought contained his evil - and went his own way. Now he spends his life in delicatessens buying tapenade and Warm Crusty Bread. Here's a picture of him. Carefully note the difference between him and me. I wouldn't want to be you if you made a mistake.

Uncle Watson's here, boom boom, shake shake the room

Hello, you've got through to Uncle Watson, the king of the world, the God of the Universe. I created the world and all that's in it one day when I did a guff and it followed through with diarrhoea. Before then I was having a really relaxing time in the jacuzi. Now I have to tend to the needs of my subjects, such as putting them in my sack and hitting them with a frying pan, or teaching them about raves.

I'm a bicycle and I live in a mechanical bed with my friends. I have a sweet love called Traybe who is the mummy of the Marsh. Wait! You don't know what the Marsh is yet! Twat.

As well as being a bicycle I'm also a dinosaur. I'm the Lord Protector of Marshia, the greatest land in all the world.

It's all Cool Col Coolie most of the time except for when that gobshite Hornswaggler pesters me. He was a speck of crusty ass-flake that accidentally fell in the diarrhoea, which BOOMSHAKALAK'd out his velour ass. He's the divil. Here's a picture of him at a rave.

I have all sorts of adventures 'n stuff, like the time when I was the first DJ in space, and when I arm wrestled a polar bear AND WON. I'm the godly leader of THE WIG EXPERIENCE, the best band EVER, which I'll tell you all about another time, yeah?