WOW! TATTOO MY BUTT PART 2 - WHERE DO YOU THINK WE ALL WILL BE TOMORROW? By Nick Armbrister.

WOW! TATTOO MY BUTT PART 2 - WHERE DO YOU THINK WE ALL WILL BE TOMORROW?

By Nick Armbrister.

Ariel Sharon

On this world of 7 billion souls,                                                                                          every single one of them is as guilty of sin.                                                                                 All are as bad as the next.                                                                                                        Come judgment day, the scribes will be working overtime.                                                                                                             What will I be judged on?                                                                                                 What will the petty gals who let me down be judged on?                                                   Don't you know, my last five years has been like a fucking war?                                                          Oh, I've taken losses.                                                                                                       More than any army and its general could ever endure.                                                               Don't think I'm innocent. I'm not.                                                                                          I hurt them just as much as they hurt me.                                                                         What an evil fucking war.                                                                                                            Five year war for me, still ongoing.                                                                                        What my life has become.                                                                                                                               You know my symptoms and effects,                                                                                          affecting me like a variety of weapons going off.                                                                         Each slowly fucking me up, destroying me bit by bit.                                                                  One girl at a time opening fire.                                                                                                      I forgot how to fire back...

Good Cop                                                                                                                       You're a cop.                                                                                                                          In Hitler's Fatherland, Nazi Germany, 1964.                                                                                                 Little more than a rookie.                                                                                              Normally catching petty criminals and hookers in dark alleys.                                                        A call came through, a body in the woods.                                                                               You the cop, first on scene.                                                                                                   Little did you know that you, the cop, would bring everything crashing down like a house of cards.                                                                                                                      By investigating this crime, you the cop, sent fissures right to the top of the Nazi regime.                                                                                                                                     Secrets spread forth like acid; burning everybody.                                                                              The death of a race, the Jews.                                                                                      Extinct.                                                                                                                                    Retired top Nazi murderer told you, 'Not a brick remains. The Jews are in the East.'                                                      You knew you had to see with your own eyes, you the cop.                                                             Where it happened.                                                                                                                        So you went to Poland and saw.                                                                                          There were bricks there; moss covered, dirty and half buried.                                                                 What untold story did they tell?                                                                                                 Millions of ghosts hovered around you.                                                                               Crying for justice, permanent release.                                                                                                    As the SS came for you, you knew the cost - your life.                                                       With Kennedy visiting, you got the secret out.                                                                                     By forsaking your life, you collapsed the most evil regime in human history.                                                                            Ended Hitler's reign of terror, allowing

Where?

Where is my guinea pig?                                                                                                 Where is my Devil Snail poodle?                                                                                          Where are my play boy dancing gals?                                                                                 Where is my armour plated Fiat Panda car?                                                                   Where is my aeroplane?                                                                                                  Where is my new tattoo?                                                                                                 Where is my new poem book?                                                                                             Where is my mate hiding?