Jesus f***. Seraphim. Skull and the bullet.
Uzi’s and machine guns. Let me join the native tribes.
Get ready for Armageddon. F***, America. The world.
There are no rules. F*** it in oblivion. Where do I go.
Get a pad off, somewhere. I have personal monthly income.
Somewhere beautiful, to go before we die. But where.
The skeleton does not walk. West minister, I need to get the f*** out of here.
Who the f*** is gonna give me a spot. The chance to feel oblivion.
Somewhere beautiful, but where. Anyone?
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Tutukaka, Far North, New Zealand.
My family has a block of land up there, with the Tasman Sea not 200 metres from the front porch. Of course, my cousins who live there are also growing “Electric Puha” (Marijuana) out in the boosh, and five-oh has been poking around lately.
Oh, and I can’t forget the European tourists who frequent there – might be to your liking.