Cancer, Goldilocks and Superman's Pee of Fire!

Cancer is a motherfucker.

He most often turns up as a tumor. Just walks into your body like he owns the place. Sits in your chair. Sleeps in your bed.

Like Goldilocks if she were a fat smelly parasitic crack whore.

Cancerous tumors are mutations of our own cells. These affected cells start dividing uncontrollably - a cockroach’s bursting egg sack sending its dirty babies out to deliver carnage.

OMG! Goldilocks is a giant cockroach crack whore pumping out cockroach babies!

And cockroaches are fast. They race past your bodies defenses. It’s called asmetastasis. The cockroach spawn find their way into your bloodstream, spread through your whole body.

Cells from malignant tumors can invade many different tissues. They’re not choosy. They can get to your lungs, spleen, bone, everywhere.

Each metastatic cell sets up camp. Goldilocks going global. And forms a new tumor in the new location.

Put simply: If this happens you die.

Your body can’t support the growth of so many tumors. Your organs, working so hard to keep you alive, get a big fat bastard sitting on them. They can’t work anymore. They stop and YOU DIE.

So you think, fuck this shit, and call in Chemotherapy.

Chemotherapy is grizzled angry Superman without the dorky costume who really, really hates Cancer. Seriously, if cancer were on fire he’d pee on it only because grizzled Superman’s pee IS MORE FIRE!!!

Chemotherapy is designed to kill rapidly dividing cells. All those cockroach babies. Grizzled Superman uses his telescopic vision to spot them and then uses his fucking huge fists to pound them into oblivion and then just to be safe he pees his FLAMING PEE all over them.

The problem is some of those rapidly dividing cells aren’t cockroaches. They’re beautiful butterfly babies that only want to kiss and be nice. They’re normal healthy functioning cells. They’re your hair follicles and stomach lining.

That’s why chemo patients lose their hair and feel like puking most of the time.

Grizzled Superman has to kill just enough cells to kill the tumors, but not so many so he kills you.

And then he pees on them. Did I mention that grizzled superman PEES FIRE? He does. I mean, FIERY PEE!!! Awesome!

They need money to make grizzled Superman more awesome and make his FIERY PEE even hotter.

Give generously. Don’t be cheap. Someday Goldilocks might sneak through your window. Sit in your chair. And pump her cockroach crack whore babies through your body.

DONATE HERE:
https://www.cancerresearchuk.org/get-involved/donate?gclid=CjwKCAjwndvlBRANEiwABrR32AqIIN7wtHFU3f7U5wRj-xZkRY80QfQphkILqNLWs6x48QuYRQbSlRoC81IQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds

MORE INFO HERE:
https://www.cancerresearchuk.org/

Here There Be Monsters!

The Hound of the Baskervilles is a true story!

Well, not really, but Arthur Conan Doyle did base his Sherlock Holmes novel on the Dartmoor legend of the Beast of Bodmin. Doyle stayed a while in Princetown, Devon, on the moors, and heard the legend of the ‘Beast of Bodmin Moor’ from his pal. Bertram Fletcher Robinson.

There have been sixty reported sightings of the Beast - a five-foot long black panther-like creature with yellow eyes - and coupled with the numerous reports of mutilated livestock, the police decided in 1995 to investigate its existence.

Of course, they found nothing. Monsters don’t exist. Ha! It’s all just stories.

But then, not long after the po-po concluded that there was no Beast, a young boy found a leopard’s skull on the banks of the River Fowey in Cornwall.

Oh my Dog! Monsters DO exist! It’s all real.

Then the Natural History Museum discovered that the skull had made it into the country as part of an imported leopardskin rug.

Spoilsports.

But then Benjamin Mee, the owner of Dartmoor Zoo, said that in 1978 he was expecting a delivery of five pumas from the closing-down Plymouth Zoo and only two arrived. The owner of Plymouth Zoo, Mary Chipperfield, apparently had a breakdown of some sort and couldn’t bring herself to give over her favourite pumas to another zoo so she released them into the wild.

This was okay, because it was 1978 and releasing ‘exotic species’ into the wild wasn’t illegal until 1981. Good thing it wasn’t these days - Imagine the twitterstorm after she tweeted it on Twitter, the twit!

Her husband denies the story, and Mary passed away in 2014 so she can’t argue.

Even now police get reports of “a tiger on the loose” or a “beast digesting its dinner in my back garden” in Axminster. A Google search will reveal dozens of photos and videos allegedly of the Beast. In October 2016 giant paw prints, 4 inches wide like those of a lion, were found in Cornwall.

But Arthur Conan Doyle didn’t hear any story about an escaped zoo animal. He died in 1930 - long before Mary Chippenfield claims to have let the cats out. So what Beast was his mate talking about?

YOUTUBE VIDEO HERE:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsncL2sJvFE