further adventures of the beaver being...

first there was beaver plastics
pretty good one might think
then all transmogrified to beaver packaging
which reined supreme above the town
until one sad day
it was swallowed up by the capitalist behemoth
and beaver packaging was no more
only a select few knew of the secret beaver stash
visible solely from a secret vantage point amongst heavy industry
an unexpected ray of sunshine was spilt
from a most surprising place
a train from eltham to charing cross
beaver housing flashed and screamed in gorgeous synchrony
where were they when this epiphany dawned?
no bloody where...

dead duck walking pt. 1

here we go....
look around the senta (copyright pending)
little ducks narrowly avoiding big bad sharkies
little ducks having their numberplates personally modded
little ducks being fearful of ugly ugly humans
little ducks doing whatever the fuck else little ducks do
how many slices of goatbergine would you snuffle if you were a duck?
he needs somewhere between 919 and 1149
exact science this...
little ducks with the other bigger ducks
most notably and impressively the Generalissimo Big Fuck Off Ducks
with their yellow goobbly bits
see the little duck film
starring little ducks and figa announcements
did you know that little ducks are only found on this part of the pond?
i bet you fucking didnt
i fucking did
i learned it at little fucking duck primary caucus school
but then, sadly, i forgot
then its time to cruise the little duck shoppe
how much stuff can you ram a little duck onto?
as a boke upstairs once said...
for fucks sake!
for the full little duck experiece
why DID they change the name from hoity toity fucking ducks
to little fucking ducks?
hey? clever trousers?
then its off down the rampart
and plippity plop onto the sand
for a big arse, cold and quite dull wait
dont forget your diary of a secret lodging
the kids suck
the sand sucks
suckity suckity suck suck
fucking cazzo

erik the earwig

erik the earwig lived on the wall
he was small, brown and maggoty
erik the earwig would show his head from time to time
but he felt unloved
people always looked at erik oddly
sideways, lengthways and cazzoways
erik the earwig was just getting to grips with himself
he often did that
he really didnt need all those funny looks
it was enough to give an earwig a complex
one thing that erik the earwig felt was on his side
was his mighty organs
and the mess they could make if he was abused
it certainly scared off the camel
he came after erik the earwig with a giant white board
erik leaped for his life
knowing full well that the camel meant business
whiffy, sticky and unpleasant business at that
after a brief scuffle
erik the earwig was subdued and escorted outside
but the camel knew he was lucky to escape with his trousers intact
next time... thought erik the earwig
next time he wont be so lucky
as he screamed BEEEEELLLLLLIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN into the summer night

hot lava

did i tell you about hot lava?
its fab
there is purple and orange
the orange just sorts of blobs around
doing nothing much
looking kind of disinterested
then, all of a sudden
for no perceptible reason
there is a frenzy of light and splendour
then,
not much happens
but as the slurry warms
whilst nowt is going down
the purple glows cool
bearing witness and happily in the retroscena
the super cool orange starts to stir
first it mounds
then mounds some more
then a timid excursion out of the comfort zone
and after you know it
theres a regular stream of 2 way traffic
the purple graciously forming, swelling and taking off
often colliding with its larvae sibs travelling in the opposite direction
you couldnt call it a meeting of great minds
one moment they entwine
next they meld and slither by without the slightest friction
or meld into a single form
before tearing itself apart again to continue with the established trajectory
every time we make love....
hot lava

il signore dei friks

he did hot foot in the land of scenery
he threw himself out of aeroplanes
ribs notwithstanding
he ate chocolate on a glacier
he marvelled at the 2nd world prices
he probably complained a bit
he chatted to japanese fighe
he exchanged wisdom with a cockney geezer
he bought the dvd
he slept amidst the fucking backpackers
he made sense of the local accent
he did unspeakable things with telecaster guitars
he made contacts with network executives
he probably saw some cool nature on the way
including some wacky boat in the air between the mountains attached to the wires
he imbibed gluten in evey form
gluten burgers
gluten pot noodles
gluten cheesy poofs
gluten gluten bites
gluten me not gluten straws
'i cant believe it's not gluten' gluten
a gluten shake with extra large fuck me up the arse gluten freedom fries
hell, he even had a gluten implants bunged in
missing your gluten ?
skip the patches or the fake gluten puffers
just get gluten thingies attached to your behind

hall work and snow hay makes...

hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
hall work and snow hay makes
one bored, shitty and a crap snack treat

why i didnt see the salvo shoppe in inkerman st

its invisible
there was a temporary blip in the time-space continuium
i forgot to look
some kind of prejudice which i havent yet established
it was a slow blog day
the thooka thooka in my ears distracted me
the eeek eeek screek of my brain distracted me
the situation in darfur distracted me
the dodgy bloke in the leather jacket lighting a fag distracted me
my chasteness got in the way
it was my density
the sun reflected off the windows and blinded me
the ultra modern design of the building made in beyond my minds comprehension
somebody moved it temporarily
it was out to lunch
i was out to lunch
i didnt have my smelly vest on
it was only a figment of his imagination
it was abducted and anally probed by aliens with bubbles on their heads
i didnt apply in triplicate
i lost all sense of perspective and saw a rubiks cube
it turned into a goat
somebody wasnt paying attention

stiffy little fingers

the family stiffoir lived by a frozen bocs
the roof came a tumbling down
leaving the family stiffoir with no shelter
mr stiffoir dropped lots of 'clever' one liners
but they weren't very funny
that didnt stop him
banned from school with knits
a real girl called eye-ee-shucks
ginger stubble
mark molloyocks rings a bit real
i recognized the background skyline
lots of big names and big nobs
little boy stiffoir is having a rough time of it
mummy stiffoir has chortled off to some imaginary town in the north
for a big day...
daddy stiffoir had a lot of things going down
somebody tried to run him off the road
somebody tried to run him down
somebody cut his brakes
a farting dog right nearby
his car upside down in the lake
his bird left him to become a big lesbian
his faced is scratched
his one liners get worse
dry? not really...
daddy stiffoir got his jacket all broken
the roof fell off his house
he stole a dead mans car
but its okay
theres a love interest
ethnic at that!
and a great big conspiracy
where would the world be without them ?
the bloke he works for sold his flesh
for a pound of coins
the turkish fraternity were mistreating mr memo
and something about an old geezer doing stabbin practice
it all ended ironically
or was that underwhelmingly ?
at least i think that was the point
it might have just been his trousers rucking up

i wonder whats happening in new zealand...

i hardly facking think

therefore i hardly facking am

on being crap

how do i count the ways?
the big one is communication crap
too crap to answer an email today or this week
too crap to answer an email this month or trip around the sun
too crap to make that little effort required to just stay in touch and show you give a crap
i once knew a crap bloke
he was pretty crap
but then in the fullness of time his crapness seemed callow and poor
the biggest crap inducement around
is the being in another town, another state, another country or another hemisphere
it makes even the best of us giant big crapsters
these were the best of times, these were the blurst of times
when is it okay to be crap?
whats the ettiquete for a text message?
not answering is rude
after how long?
with depersonalized communication
being crap has become the easy as pye
crap in wales
crap in in the ussr
crap in the land of the gun weilding philistine fundamentalists
crap in london
crap in mexico
crap nel bel paese
big in japan
crap in not so great bretagne
crapping all over the world
We are all crap or carp in our own various ways
it is easy to forget
not to make that small effort
to put it off to another day
i'll get right on it...
it slithers so easily from the mind
will get on it tomorrow
just need to eat my own boot first
aw, they know i love them
our friendship doesnt need contact
hmmmmmmmmmm
out of sight
out of mind
out of this world
in the crap
merda!

red sky on meredith

meredith thangs;
faster pussycat kill kill in a lovely tree lined venue
unhealthy protrusion of busts
and wiggling of bottoms as one walked
no wonder it is a cult
a big big tree that provided shade for 3 fookin daze
love that big big tree
it gives protection for you and me
a pine perhaps
dust and dust and heat
how about that dust
dust in your nose
dust in your ears
dust in your every orificer
i must i must i must decrease my dust
beavis only recently escaped the tin mine
hoffeee him
black feet
cornelius can be my special friend
amayyyzing set with amayyyyzing visuals in behind
ugrieee adamson shouted his arse off
or it might have been his head
one of them has a lot of tattoos
of petunias or oranjebloom or something
narrowly escaped tim the tool with tex the mitico
why oh why?!?
completely missed spencer and the nudey run around
combo la thththththt im sure were lovely people
with interesting lives to lead and serving a valuable need in our community
likewise the ballandigo big bad brass arse band
other noteworthy performances included
ummm errrrrrr aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh ummmmmmmmmm
rustle rustle
band of horses... not bad for a band of horses
midlake... not bad except for shitfully annoying harmonies
augie march for sounding like a band i have heard before
the drones were cool
then there were some other bands which i paid no attention tooo
big kudos to the i drive a truck with a long hose on it people
breakfest burritos
eriks incredible endurance of having 18 ribs removed and rammed up his arse
stoicism personified
lots of beer
lots of spliff
friendly folks
overly friendly folks scaring off the tourists
and scaring off the me
beavis and his heroic earplugs
kez the blackleg
clean clean clean lavatories
loveless effort that
smoke hanging heavily in the air
dust clinging lightly to the bods
sleep doing a splash and dash
the figa family next door
bless em
all the young people
not sure about whether they need blessing
how about that dust?
dusty enough for you?
funk to dusty?
too many schnaa
hang on a minute, thats not right
superb performance from the berntastic
sorry about that ole chappes
no disrespect intending
arsed on, downtrodden by fucked up hordes
it came up smelling of dust

the duster brothers

driving about
driving about
isn't it all so lovely
cruising along
wait, whats that!?
a line up of wahabiite prayer givings?
no, its just a great big fuck off queueueueuue
so we park
so we beer
so we smoke
so we piss
hayley bails for all
hang in there...
50 metres then 80 metres
then 23 metres then a bloke with a beard
off we go...
got any spare beer?
how about small beer?
tent put up
whats that noise
no, that one
ahh the shouty one
somebody is about to flip
out off
in ouff
all about...

cant be arsed

the day that arturo died

somebody cried
at the POW
no, not the prisoner of war
no, not the patented obvious wossit
no, not the pulverized organ wurlizter
the prince of wales
take a leap back in history
set foot in a room with cheap beer
fools, butfoons and not so many shady characters
how about that?
oops just lost 5 years
feeling snappier already
Pippy longtroosers walked these boards again
the same boards
give or take a few old freakoids
or young potters of toss
would you like some beervis?
this time there was the broken man
man, he was broken
couldnt sit down
couldnt stand up
couldnt breathe without the macchina
disgusting the flower of trooth
the figa that didnt run for cover
coz the cover never availed itself
fancy the fook that
one dollar pots
one dollar fittttie pots
one dollar sittttieee pots
wot fookin next?
filling up space on blog?

here comes the meredith all dressed in hot

today is the day of the meredith
greetings and salutations to all merediths out where
there should be lots of scorched heads
scorched brains
and scorched scorcios
fab music
tented red headed wonderlands
no dickheads
and no bushfires
2 cars
2 tents
one vegas
with or without showgirls
no girls tent
no tutus
but an elegant lady or high breeding
one foreign passer by swept up in a plastic bag
one seedy bloke
one seedier looking bloke
and a lot of seedy looking blokes
many unfortunate couches may pass away
but the newly riffed reptilic blue somethingtastic promises a good show
even if the ground beckons for all the wrong reasons
so wishes are well
as somebody sets off somewhere
quite likely somewhere already conquered by the conquering hordes
but at least they are nice hordes
a good band is coming on
im off to the first aid tent for a worse view

cricket crooked businessmen

so the whole country goes potty over a game of cricket
another whole country jumps in the north sea
and wrings hands as they are bracingly swept away
whats that dad? they are just the orkneys...
its the end of the world as we knew it
and i feel nonplussed
what a truly odd game
5 days
5 fuckign days
30 odd hours
then it all ends up with 3 overs to go...
it aint a matter of life and death
its more noteworthy
lets just run down what it is that has had such a profound affect
22 blokes in white pyjamas
2 blokes with black trousers and white shirts whos job it is to wave their arms around, stick their fingers up..... , stand very still and act all grown up
another 2 blokes have the job of carrying water out to the first 22
and trying not to look disappointed that they werent good enough
picture this bull bragg boy
a huge green oval
thus named after a rhombus
with a bit of hard grass
all beaten up, dried out and squashed down
this bit in the middle a rectangle known as a square
at each end there are 3 wooden sticks
a few centimetres apart
with a couple of ickle twigs between them to make up the castle
then 2 blokes covered in padding of all kinds and big sticks wander out
another 11 blokes wander around aimlessly on this big green space
strangely one of them also has pads and stands nearby the castle
then from one end a big bloke stalks off to fence then turns around to reveal he has a ball in his hand
he runs like a man possessed towards the square
and by warping his body in a most impure manner
he hurles the ball with all his might at the bloke with a stick at the other end
who most times just watch it go by
like you might watch a pink butterfly
then it all starts again
then it carries on
and carries on
with occasional stopping for head and ball scratching
even more occasional hysterics
usually unjustified
and the 2 blokes between the castles rarely trotting back and forth on the square like well train dalmations
after a couple of hours
everybody has a break and then its on again
an again
and after five days
oftentimes there a draw
thats what keeps this country in a delirium and blissfully unaware of the evil manipulations of horrid little smug men

dim smuggy

broken elbows
cheep cheep birru
it all comes flooding back now
sit up straight
otherwise the view is impaired
nowt worse than that
its only a short stagger to that plaice
stolen bad reference
sorry about that
theres an old man here
he claims that he knew you
the dragon sure wasnt slainest
the history of the brick
it finished right there
roma termini
st kilda termini
there better be a good excuse for that
they say its static electricity
yesterday it took 2.13 euro off the shelf
then it were over
like slipping into a new glovers
that bloke knew it were over
a nation united
can oft be defeated
sensors all switched to 'couldnae give a fook'
so...
normal service resumed
this nation has a receptacle
that doesnt look right
nothing respectable about that then
something to say?
fascinating tale of woe and mischief?
stones turned and molested strrrrreeet corners?
grazed elbogans?
sod that... im off to look at the guardian
dont you ever read the guardian kneel?

Ron that steak sandwich

the view from the capsule is rubbish
all icy platitudes
who would have thought richard branson would stoop to this?
blah blah blah
atom bomb
blah blah blah
tomato pasting
blah blah blah
reconstituted white people
blah blah blah
neutron equals engery with the railway brakes on
how do i know this?
bog off
tasteless, classless and coalescent
for only 20 knicker plus VAT
that bloke that made a difference
only gave away the secret to the ultimate in mass extermination
good intentions are not only overrated
you can't forget the t-boner
in between skating and bleaching
there wasn't much space
what was there was filled with lemon and lime
oh good
whistling
that crap kind that is only done between filthy digits
the one that rattles around in your head
he's having a shit time of it
she's having a shocker
and then there are the ones all beaten up with a hammer
congealed your fancy?
fucking this
fuckign that
piece of shit 1 says to piece of shit 2;
you piece of shit
piece of shit 2 says,
fucken fuck
only slightly more degrading than seeing your arse on the internet with i love big grey barry tattooed on it
another wasted flower of youth
purple and perfectly round
with a bit of yellow in the middle
zooming off there into nowhere
good thing it wasnt free
human conscience and all that biz nuge
pan backwards and catch the lucky folk getting on with the fire
meatballs on sticks
cliche bashed out and around the block... again
the label closed down
arse

camel wears his legs

he does you know
i saw him
they grow back when sliced off at the hip
that's why he's no twinset
that'd be potent
wacky little number innit?

THE FIGA IS FIGA

Somebody asked me about the logic of this sentence.
You have to know that despite on what can be told about a figa, she olways remains a figa and must be serpected as a figa as whell.
But when a figa is a really figa ?
If you meet a girl, here you can find a clessification of the differets figa's degrees:
From the top to the bottom

1) Strafiga (better than figa)
2) Figa (figa)
3) Gran gnocca (quite a figa)
4) Gnocca (not a figa but...)
5) Medio gnocca (intresting)
6) Semi-gnocca (sill intresting)
7) Tipa (not really intresting)
8) Una (non intresting)
9) Cancello (intresting for medical research)
10) In this case you only try to forgive her immediately, without giving her a name

Now, acording to the schedule, we can tell that in position number 1&2 a figa remains a figa anywhere, position 3&4 are usually considered figa but, as they aren't really figa, you can submit the appartenence at the figa class to conditions like make-up, usually a figa from 3 to 5 the decision is yours, after 5th position you can't consider the girl as a figa, even if you are in love with her.
Must even be told that from position 6 to 8 the sense of humor plays a fondameltal role.
Anyway the positions between 5 & 7 can usually be changed following the personal preferences.
i hope no girls feels offended by this post.
For further details please contact me.

MPAA Lobbying for SEEDY MAGGOT Regulations

The MPAA is lobbying congress to push through a new
bill that would make unauthorized SEEDY MAGGOTS illegal. The group feels
that all SEEDY MAGGOTS should be sanctioned, whether they be ON THIRD WORLD HOLIDAY or at home.

MPAA head Dan Glickman says this needs to be regulated before things
start getting too far out of control, "We didn't act early enough with
the online sharing of our copyrighted content AND WE ENDED UP WITH PETE. This time we're not
making the same mistake. We have a right to know what SEEDY MAGGOT is in a
theater."

The bill would require that any hardware manufactured in the future
contain technology that tells the MPAA directly of what SEEDY MAGGOT
and specific details on the audience. The data would be gathered using
various LEON sensors and biometric technology.

The MPAA defines a SEEDY MAGGOT as any home with a LEON larger
than 29" with stereo sound and at least two SMUG BASTARDS, couch,
or futon. Anyone with a SEEDY MAGGOT would need to pay a $50
registration fee with the MPAA or face fines up to $500,000 per AFRO shown.

"Just because you buy a DVD to watch at home doesn't give you the right
to invite friends over to watch A SEEDY MAGGOT too. That's a violation of copyright
and denies us the revenue that would be generated from DVD sales to your
friends," said Glickman. "Ideally we expect each viewer to have their
own SEEDY MAGGOT, but we realize that isn't always feasible. The
SMASH IN THE NADS is a fair compromise.

The bill also stipulates that any existing SEEDY MAGGOTS be retrofitted
with the technology or else the owner is responsible for ANY PETE THE PAINTA LOOKALIKES and receiving approval before each viewing OF A SEEDY MAGGOT.

stiffy fingers

the family stiffoir lived by a frozen bocs
the roof came a tumbling down
leaving the family stiffoir with no shelter
mr stiffoir dropped lots of 'clever' one liners
but they weren't very funny
that didnt stop him
banned from school with knits
a real girl called eye-ee-shucks
ginger stubble
mark molloyocks rings a bit real
i recognized the background skyline
lots of big names and big nobs
little boy stiffoir is having a rough time of it
mummy stiffoir has chortled off to some imaginary town in the north
for a big day...
daddy stiffoir had a lot of things going down
somebody tried to run him off the road
somebody tried to run him down
somebody cut his brakes
a farting dog right nearby
his car upside down in the lake
his bird left him to become a big lesbian
his faced is scratched
his one liners get worse
dry? not really...
daddy stiffoir got his jacket all broken
the roof fell off his house
he stole a dead mans car
but its okay
theres a love interest
ethnic at that!
and a great big conspiracy
where would the world be without them ?
the bloke he works for sold his flesh
for a pound of coins
the turkish fraternity were mistreating mr memo
and something about an old geezer doing stabbin practice
in a great big fuck off freezer
it all ended ironically
or was that underwhelmingly ?
at least i think that was the point
it may have just been his trousers rucking up

i wonder whats happening in new zealand...

Mr. The Twat

Mr the Twat had a small south american hat
Mr the Twat had the social skills of a gnat
Mr the Twat did once outwit that splat
Mr the Twat was quite a bit fat
Mr the Twat sure do shat
Mr the Twat was always up for a bat
Mr the Twat ate too many kit kats
Mr the Twat should have chewed qat
Mr the Twat saw a walkman and spat
Mr the Twat certainly could chat
Mr the Twat never once knew where it was at
Mr the Twat never cried funk dat
Mr the Twat had less charm than a syphillis covered rat
Mr the Twat had a name that rhymed with Matt
Mr the Twat could have done with meeting Yasser Arafat (1960's gun weilding one)
Mr the Twat said 'roooaaar continuously like utter prat
Mr the Twat should not be confused with Mr Hat (who had a lot more charisma)
Mr the Twat squealed like a stuck pig at the thought of adventure
Mr the Twat was always banging on about emphanadas
Mr the Twat was a fucking bunghole
Mr the Twat never shut the fuck up
Mr the Twat tried to impress chicks by talking about weapons companies
Mr the Twat helped my italian no end
Mr the Twat was a turd
Mr the Twat left in Bolivia
thank fuck for that!
man i fucking hated Mr the Twat

vote for goat 2

the weekend past there was an election in these parts
a chance, nay an obligation to vote for the hypocrite of your choice
you could vote for Mr Thwacking of labourpains
Mr caricature smug fucker of libellous party
mr socially responsible of the bright green shirt party
mr ignorant hate monger of the fucking fist party
or a handful of independents running on various themes
to remove the grand prix from albert park
to have free ice cream at under age gigs
to ban weeds growing in cracks
to stick it to the man
to make everybody pray to some god somewhere

if only we had the monster raving loony party
to add some levity to the process
but no
there are the flunkies and floozies and fuckheads handing out broken trees
hardwood?
vote like this!
vote like that!
do as we say!
be more like the USA!
keep the queen!
sew fear and prejudice!
send children back down the mines!
exploit the least powerful!
work for gruel policy for the underemployed!

preferences sent off the gather sticks and kindling
nasty little hateful people searching out smalllikemindedminds
apparently somebody assaulted one of 'em...
hurrah
bunting everywhere
ribbons and rags
blocking your path like so many christians
or 3rd world people floggin something

needless to say i voted for the goat party
with their outstanding platform
it had banners and planks
sound policies regarding chewing on stuff
standing around being shitty
and general bloody mindedness
progressive beard wearing
representing of beelzebub
noteworthy clove hoof dictums
loved by the ancient greeks
(not in the same way they loved boys)
be it in the form of Pan or a Satyr
pumping out space rock on his pipes
running around knobbing all in sight
maidens, wenches and shepherds all


Then as usual the CHRISTIANS came along
with custom duplicity and manipulation
co-opted the image and made him out to be EEEEEEVIL

vote for goat!

the pink blog

boris was staying over at his friends house
when he and capitano fisticuffs got in it was pitch black
not baseball pitch
nor a sales pitch
pitch as in that black sticky stuff
he was shown to his place of temporal rest
something seemed odd to boris in the darkness
that's odd, he thought
he quickly drifted off into a dreamy sleep
he dreamt he was alone in a large, grandiose mansion
there was not a soul around
they were all outside watching this electrical storm
there were 3 wings
and no inbred twittering idiots to be seen
there were 4 water closets
where the owners kept their water
a total of 8 bedrooms
and a room atop some stairs
with a sign bluntly stating
"he who enters here is tost"
he decided against trying the door
he didnt wish to be tost after all...
in his mind he wandered these corridors
breaching each
he even found himself in the bowels
looking for some kind of service
you call this service?
nobody was to be seen
luckily, even in his dreams boris didnt believe in a spectral universe
mr and mrs and mr fisticuffs were nobody to be found
il capitano and his siblings had cleaned their rooms beyond recognition
even splat the donkey
and Lucifer the lettuce
left no trace of their having been there
another poisoning by the FSB?
another wall built across western sahara?
another anal probing story?
another god invented the earth in 1972 scam?
another keynesian economic rationalism fairy tale?

memoirs of a painta

he stepped over the hedge trimmings
it was looking likely
he knew things weren't shaping up as he had hoped
a closure of kinds he supposed
recognition was surely only to come after his death
and with it would come fame, wealth and figa
not much use then...
what good to a corpse would all that be ?
oh sure
dress it up in big spiffing suits
extra posh make up on his bones
groupies digging him up and lewdly posing for photos on his carcass
loads and loads of big fuck off flowers by his headstone
whats the fucking point there hey?!
for now he was penniless and senseless
those blokes and women in trousers
the ones painting pale nobility
maybe in the 17th century it was all about your art
doing a da vinci and selling your behind for postcards
kissing arse of the pope and other rich nobs
just for another bowl of gruel
but he had no interest in posthumous glory
he wanted the wonga and the birds
pablo picasso never got called an arsehole (not in new york)
salvador dali was a shagmonster
gustav klimt had that thing with cats
miro had more shoes than imelda marcos
there must be a way to make the world sit up
and get the acclaim he deserved
he didn't really care about art
he marinated most art classes in high school
spent them smoking rolled up bits of canvas up the big oak tree
sometimes with a bit of paint remover to spice things up a bit
truth be known
he wanted to be a rock star
when nobody was around
which was most of the time
he put on his spangly leotards and played the air oboe in front of the mirror
and imagined a seething mosh pit before him
full of teeny girls...
crusty old blokes muttering respectfully in their cravattes
wanting to talk about the 'ists just didn't cut it
how to make art sexy again just as eduardo catflappo had before him?

guacamole

i need medication for my sleep deprivaaaaayshun...

a goanna walked into a bar, he always called it that

the goat turned to the camel
the camel wasn't there
the hirsute horse may never have been there at all...

the spangly kitted germans smiled knowingly at eachother
an ugly english bloke with a tattoo bore down on them
2 Australians waited for their burgers
fiddled with their beers
and wondered what happened to the italian
a frenchwoman appeared and joined the germans
who sparkled quite magnificently
the ugly englishman moaned something naff and kissed barriers away
the australians attacked their burgers and found some more beer
ingenious aren't they?

clumsy attempts at tempting the unchaperoned euroschnaa
we will just continue our conversation
some scots is heard in the distance
australian bellies start to fill
a blurry italian walks in
an australian walks out
the relics shamble amongst themselves

small talk begins to spread its wings
swedes in darwin
germans in perth
french in brisbane
americans in adelaide
and sydney still full of wankers
britlanders fooking everywhere
and those luxembourgers in Koo wee rup

the languages melt
german, english, italian, french and pissedvis
where is the warmth ?
breeze caresses heads and hairs
it didn't seem that other-worldy
gestures swirling and lost in the dungeons
POOF
and perfect cloud appears
and even obscurity is obscured
leaving a chirpy italian and bad italian

pink piece of paper

it had probably been there since birth
the small bumps on his head could have triggered it
but it was unlikely
so they moved me to the psychiatric ward
can you sign this?
i have a signature you know
so im really pissed off at them, you know
then i realised that you know, that, my first letter starts with a d
they had been calling me johnny all day
thats fine
i suddenly realised
i said look, im somebody
its not a complete wipeout of memory
procedural memory is preserved
there was absolutely no way
where, why i have written this down
i know many young men
hello i am so scared
do you know who i am?
can you please come and pick me up?
my ninety year old mum has dementia
i didnt know who it was
i called my daughter
to a fault
people steal things
you might even know him
theres nothing i can do from here
the most traffic in the world... like
this person is coming and identifying you
they put doug on the phone
oh my god
she just goes
yeah you are doug
for me that was just
you know
i cant really desribe the feeling
the relief
the sense of belonging
i promise i will be there in half an hour
there goes nadine....
with her long black hair

going, going... sodded off

there is a story
about a man
this man knew his place
it was behind the tool shed
after fully blown meetings with the brains trust
and chez...

it was only 4 hours until the potentially most important day of his life
and where was he to be found?
sleeping restfully in his own bed?
studying the papers industrially?
carefully working his portfolio into the ground?
making sweet love with the gravy birds?
making up pointless questions?
no... he wasn't
he was sitting on a couch full of elephants
his mind altered
trying to fend off the flying bollocks
what was that noise?
the circuits in his brain fizzled and crackled...
he tried to slow down his thinking
he breathed slowly and dreamt of an orange coloured liquid
eventually the din subsided
leaving in his small dark world
fast foward a few hours
SIMON the REAL ESTATE AGENT is fussing about
his charmingly attractive assistant smiling radiantly
best put on a broad hatted rim
the gabbling unit of 1 was relegated
the crack team humped a car
backwards
SIMON the REAL ESTATE AGENT paced to and FRO
from an equilibrious distance you could have seen a parrot shit on his shoulder
the barriers flung outwards and hit a smoky old man
his cigarette briefly scorched the roof of his mouth
as his eyes popped wide open
as if someone had barred them so
then... nothing happened
ho hum
after a spirited contest between the assembled 2 parties
SIMON the REAL ESTATE AGENT feigned interest amidst his horseshit
and stalked early doors to consult
his return was marked by the irrefutable lingering whiff of ham
the frenzied gnashing of muppet
the bloke under a tree
pushing
shoving
birthing
screeching
contrapting
push the boat as far as the end of the porch
then with a counter-move
as fast as a snail in crutches with termites
as slick as a globule of phlegm
as decisively as syphillis on your bottom
as majestically as a man who smears faeces on his own face
the dubious duo of FRO and MO struck
and it was over
thank fook for that...

lacking in magazines

dont read ola
dont read hello
dont read pronto
dont read fintocchio
dont read ththththt
dont read new car goatly
dont read rugs r us
dont read karl rove magazine
dont read corporation fistie
dont read guardian and garden
dont read laotion delights
dont read juggggs
dont read a play on turds
dont read a man in need
dont read GHQ
dont read holidays by people that scuk
dont read the new shirty
dont read of men and mites
dont read batty boy weekly
dont read frozen popstarlets
dont read team smear
dont read failings bazaar
dont read computer nerd bokko
dont read between the lines

the bleedin' obvious

1. hello
2. this is a blog
3. it's not that interesting
4. it's in point form
5. struth
6. when typing you use your fingers
7. a knob that is, not a plug socket
8. the colour scheme of this blog has been shamelessly copied
9. strike a light
10. a watched monitor is absolutely no different to an unwatched monitor
11. the boiling point of water is about now
12. hello again
13. nobody reads this blog
14. all pets speak italian
15. I wish my last name was fuller
16. we shall meet again
17. living in 2 hemispheres can be difficult
18. unless you live in Colombia or something
19. sorry about that
20. this blog looks like a brothel

days ending in Y

School nights have been cancelled
There’s no such thing as gainful
Half price chop smacking?
10 peseta butane globules?
First a stop at Smart Artist Trivial seat
Trevor knew no bounds
Rather disappointing crowding
Guffawing and not pointing out the pointless
Buttered steak behinds
Feel the badness slide down yer throaty
Arteries clog
Funk dat
Why pray for today?
Or pay full price for the play?
Off to a blustering beginning
Thank the sky for the cold, cold wind
Thank the Inca people for a warm, warm ear protector machine
Unshaven barbarian mooching forwards
A slow place like gnome
A gay bar without gay people
It’s so hard to have one on your own
We are Jolly, enough said
Odds on it’ll be Michael Jackson
Don’t try to deny the many colours of the special rainbow
The guy lurching at the far wall
The twirling ladies in their finery
The mugs with the cups pinned to their foreheads
Very plastic noise pollution
No seats for you big guy
A better place awaits vosotros
Half as nice at the same ole price
Norvegia re-faces you
Since when don’t they speak uzbeki in Finland ?
Even the ugly ones
Friends made over fire machines
Strange stoolfellows
Jogging past 14 pubs
Smiling at 20,000 feet
Hitler youth renamed Cubs
The suffering of the german people was no need to call it off
Apparently they deserved it…
Mr bowling with his cazzo talks the chat
Making new figa friends
Connected at the hippy
The endless sea
Washing all over he, me and we
If only you could trust a figa
As Jason Plato once proclaimed at Netherbottom Circuit
Tis hard to be profound at 250kph in the rain…
Mr muppet adjusts his stick
Mr maggot looks for a stronzo
There’s that guy he was!

St Kezmania the lesser

so that bloke from Casa Affollata got a bit of a path in a bit of a grassy area named after him...
That's pretty average really. He must have been a nice bloke, done something interesting or had a cool hat or something.
that chick that sold her butt on the corner of the street may get the corner named after her
Slut Corner has a nice ring to it..
Donaldo Bradmano had an oval, a castle and a tapir husbandry establishment named after him. There was also the Bradmano Adult Bookshoop, the Bradmano Noodle and Soup Bar and the Bradmano Shooting Gallery for the Criminally Insane.
Unfortunately, the latter grouping had to be closed down after a law was passed by a pack of tosspots outlawing naming anything Bradmano unless it was white and male.
I even see that in the Ubiquitous Shitheads of Ambiguity they are going to build a big statue in honour of Mr Marvellous Martin Loothead Sheen. So a big grey thing is to be constructed, the We Got That Black Guy By The CIA/KKK Memorial Minefield.
That pales and pails into munificence compared to the shortly to be announced renaming of St Kilda, (suburb of Melbourne Australia, at least for the last 100 years approx) to St Kezmania. It has been unanimously decided that naming a suburb of Melbourne, after a small Outer Hebridian island was a bit silly. After all, nobody speaks Celtic, there is a distinct lack of big fuck-off rocks and it's not strictly speaking, an island that's constantly battered by the North Atlantic.

In light of the inappriopriateness of this naming, a search began in the late 1930's for a new name for this inner bourbon brothel. A patron saint with class, panache and who was famed for her work with the legless lepers of Bastardsville, Nubia was sought. Mysteriously only one candidate was found and that was the renowned St Kezmania. Her lesser known miracles include drinking a liquified kidney stone (with salt), publishing a treatise on the rights of indigenous goat growers in lower Cacofonia and turning scabies into a delicous snack treat.

The residents of St Kilda (not the island) will be informed of this change in their status and widespread looting, burning, and laughing at big hair is expected if not obligatory.

Pedro on the bus

I wanna see a Volver
no, not a Vulva
not a Volvo
and nothing evolved
basta

We all came back from the war...

I wish somebody could give me what for
so war it is to be
war is in the air
la la la la
I can't wait until i become the head horse trader of this stick dessert
here's a cracking new idea
let's renew the age of chivalry
when men died in an orderly manner
without ever questioning why
i will send off everybody I don't like
or doesn't like me
or who looks a bit different
walks a bit funny
or prays in the wrong direction to a god with a different beard
maybe people with lisps, accents or a runny nose
i will send wave after wave of my men...

hundred of thousands died needlessly, heedlessly in the Somme in the brave new century
tens of thousands were slaughtered on Iwo Jima in the brave new century part 2
at least ten thousand were massacred in Istria and Venezia Giulia, ditto
that's been my last week
learn something from it ?
ummmm no
broken bodies and broken minds
male species having their heads royally fucked
all in the name of the king
By George
the ones that come back
or walk the plank around the block
zombies
dead on the inside
non copers doing what all non copers do
damage the goods of those around them
these damaged goods get stashed in the shed
until they are old enough enough to be mature
and set off on the next adventure of feckless maiming
the ones that come back
get out the goods and give them a good whacking
and we all change places and start again

so the chimp needs to show his intelligent design
or so he is told
flex the stupid muscle
get a lap doggy in tow
and a worm if really necessary
hi ho, hi ho let's save the universe
let's pay no heed
let's work with greed
no toil without oil

lap doggy jumps on board
to temper the tempers
to make the buffoons see reason
is that really credible ?
does power indeed so thoroughly corrupt the brain ?
it's hard to leave aside the habit of empire
or commonwealth
to give this enterprise a legitimate handle
go fish
not without a worm

and this one turned out to be an ugly fucker
shaping a nation in his ugly fucking image

the smugma identity

pink sky at night
a bungholes delight
pink t-shirts in the Prince of Wales
a bungholes delight

the vineyard was pumping
the public toilet was overflowing
acland street has humming
cafes spewing out people on the street

rugby on the telly in the pub
a pub that may or may not be a bugger joint
disappearing houses on forknerd st
maybe it's better that way

there's a gay time to be had
that much is for sure
basta with the camping
affectation is neither endearing or enduring
not that a toss would be heaved this way

ridiculous overgrown tennis balls
reaching for the sky
hedge trimmers are for the anally retentive, aren't they?
whipper snipper that sly minx into shape
if only he had met any

that universe that pulsates
are the smiles real ?
what is it that they know ?
they might share it if they were minded to
rest the toast of the ghost
he can't be happy at what goes on
a picnic
a social occasion
a small lady
a big sin
a rollicking pin
a chicken bin

horizons narrowing
minds lashed closed
unfortunate coincidences
sleight sights of hands
hiding whispered doubts
what did they say ?
did said pills pay the bills ?
violent reactions
innocuous remarks
what is possibly to fear ?
sputt in the face
damaged goods in shopfront window
a stolen glance
demanding to be returned
perspective in imminent danger
prospective sails off horizon bound
bleak is the new black
why did he scamper ?
just like the american soldier on iwo jima
flamin

bang your head until you're dead

metal:a headbangers journey
so this bogan bloke loves his metal
it took him from being a spotty little canadian guy
to a spotty little candadian bogan guy
he grew his hair long
and time permitting grew a gnarli rad
he found his 'community'
lots of other bogans
being cranky about stuff
and taking it out on their spinal cords
small brain damage beer
said canadian bogan then went on to university
and read anthropology
it took a while
as it's a long word
and he was a bogan
he travelled to Central America
to understand other cultures
and wrote a book or something
then he turned his attentions to his one true love
a society he 'had been defending since he was 12'
very metal
and made a study of metal, it's roots, it's varieties, it's fans, it's sluts and junk and stuff
he talked to famous old metal people
and young norwegian psychos
lots of german bogans in a field
to try and understand the whys and hows of metal music
and why metal had been demonised and patronised ever since then
a good fust was made of it
and despite his obvious boganic tendencies
he seemed to have control of his synapses
and made valid points
about crotch thrusting
who was the first metal bogan, apparently bleck sebbeth
the devils note
metal boys hair bands
norwegians not liking the lutheran church
tents in whacking camper
and junk and stuff
he failed to demonstrate though,
how if you watch a film for too long
seated in the incorrect manner
you get a sore arse

overall very interesting, if only the subject was the church...
i give it 3 thumbs semi erect and a short pony ride to creel

me and my culo take 2

trevor decided it was time to introduce his new special friend around school
nobody seemed to want to know
they all looked at him strangely
what's wrong with these people?
is it a racialist thing?
he knew he must keep his culo to himself for the timebeing
obviously the world wasn't quite ready for him
eeeediots!

in the end he knew what was to be
he would bring his culo along to show and tell
and show all and see what they could tell him
flogger was up first
his talking mushroom was a flop
alphabeticalism he thought to himself
then minky
shy and retiring
got her monkey out to a large round of applause
not that he was intimidated
he knew his culo was a match for any of them
all was needed now was to wait out Boris
ahh, Boris and his great disappearing bag
he made it disappear
he sure did
he sure did
seen it all before
thought trevor

the butterflies started a major firefight in his belly
was he to be Bowie without a wig?
what if the back row boys took issue with him ?
that freak Glug that sniffed thumbtacks was a scary prospect
Trevor hoped his culo would impress that nutter
once they had met him,
there would be no more knocking clevor trever
Miss Pantywaste called his name
he looked back
no time to hesitate
ready culo?
hello?
well it's time for the show
whether culo feels up for it or not
he pushed back his chair
took his culo by the hand
and proceeded down the aisle
feeling a thousand pin prick stares...

foibe e crop rotation

any questions regarding le foibe in Istria at the end of the second world war or crop rotation in Genova in the 14th century?
such practical knowledge can come very much in handy, don't you find?

me and my culo

the story of a boy and his pet ...
5 year old Trevor had always wanted a best friend
at kindgergarten he had sought one out
he had made some acquaintances
some other kids to join in the horseplay
but they seemed little more than pets to Trevor
his parents had even given him variously
a parrot called Beaster,
a redfish call Goldie Coloured Slacks,
a white mouse called Sleaze
to all of which he had felt some affection
but it was never like he could 'play' with them
like he had seen on the internet...
argh the frustration !
he was unable to articulate his need for companionship to his parents
his vocabulary let him down
and his pleas for assistance just came across as tantrums and incessant whining

He had tried to adopt an imaginary friend such as had done his peers
he cooked up Nacho the Spanish waitress
Blitzun the bison
and Mick Harvey the musician..
but none of them were more than ephemeral
not comrades for hours of distractions and diversion

then, all in one tract
he met his best-friend-to-be
a curious chap
not much to say
but always wanting to contribute to the conversation
now he thought about it, his culo had always been around
but always somewhere just out of sight

Team Dream Machine inc.

welcome to Team Dream Machine!
Team Dream Machine was launched on a couch in box hill in the 1990's with 4 moons with a cassette recorder, the summer olympics and a bing bang bong - from squawking identically to easter mountaineering to boning. The campaign was Team Dream Machine's first meal ticket into the australian and fijian coup markets and the support of the elite moons provided ..... credibility, viability, and valuable bollock stripping. since the first Team Dream Machine campaign, sux of the enormous maggots have gone on to become well honed in the bruce arena inc arena - some are really dull, some are really duller and some are just dullards. all moons sold their own grandma's to satan's sexual abuse centerrrrrr and then hung around Mcbastards and told huge lies about eachother in a bid to add................... credibility.

then I met Mr. Couldn't Possibly Be Arsed

so i nicked these Sir Alex Ferguson (Manchester United FC manager of 20 years) quotes from the Guardian website...

"Clubs come away from Anfield choking on their own vomit and biting their own tongues knowing they have been done by the referee" - revealing his love for Liverpool after the 10-man Rowdies grabbed a 3-3 draw in 1988.

"I should have gone ahead and signed Mick Harford" - explaining why the Rowdies failed to win the league in 1992.

"Big? It isn't big. It's magnificent! I've seen some whoppers in my time, but Dion's is something else" - Ferg's verdict on Dion Dublin's lunchbox, according to the then Coventry chairman Bryan Richardson, in 1994.

"I f*****g told youse not to ask that John. You know the rules here" - introducing John Motson to the hairdryer after Motty asked why Roy Keane had slugged Jan Fjortoft in 1995.

"If he was an inch taller he'd be the best centre-half in Britain. His father is 6ft 2in - I'd check the milkman" - appraising Gary Neville's parentage in 1996.

"He probably started crying" - explaining why Jack Walker wouldn't let Alan Shearer go to the DevilBowl in 1996.

"Some sinister magic appeared to be at work" - after defeat to Borussia Dortmund in the 1997 Big Cup semi-final.

"He's a bully, a f*****g big-time Charlie" - an impromptu paean to his former midfield stalwart Paul Ince in 1998.

"When an Italian says it's pasta I check under the sauce to make sure" - the old charmer limbers up for a visit to Milan in 1999.

"Football. Bloody hell" - lost for words after the Treble victory in 1999.

"We were very unlucky to lose the toss twice and play into the sun" - putting a novel spin on embarrassing failure at the World Club Championship in 2000.

"I'm no' f*****g talking to you. Veron's a great f***ing player. Youse are all f***ing idiots" - building bridges with the press after criticism of Juan Veron in 2002.

"My greatest challenge was knocking Liverpool right off their f****n' perch, and you can print that" - responding to Alan Hansen's suggestion that regaining the title in 2002-03 would be his greatest challenge.

"Just f*****g patch him up" - Fergie's reputed instruction to the United physio after lamping a stray boot into David Beckham's face in 2003.

"It's getting tickly now. Squeaky-bum time, I call it" - tickling Arsenal's undercarriage in 2003.

"Real Madrid - they have a nice draw, they must have picked it themselves. The Spanish or Italian teams don't play each other, how do you think they work that out? They don't want us in the final, that's for sure, but I'm not listening" - after the Rowdies drew Real in Big Cup quarter-final in 2003. They lost.

"Arsenal played too many draws. The best team in England? That's always debatable" - evaluating Arsenal's 2003-04 Invincibles.

"Could I have two bullets?" - when asked 'If you had one bullet and Victoria Beckham and Arsene Wenger were in the room, what would you do?' in 2004.

"We're as good as Chelsea, no question" - after finishing eight points off the pace last season.

"It's scandalous that some people think I should retire. I have every right to work hard. I am going to continue working" - warming up for a few more years on the eve of his 20th anniversary.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"I was scared to death of him the first time I met him. I still am actually" - Paul Scholes pays tribute to Lord Ferg.

*********************

statement of intent

i fully intend to write a proper blog posting

spleen dating

a charming young spleen was feeling incomplete
what's the point being a spleen if you can't vent?
she knew her way around the organ pool
she was familiar with the leering liver
the macho heart
doof doof baby...
the 'you can call me small' intestine
word had it that epiglottis was in town
what did he ever do for me anyway ?!
but the hole (!)
did seem endless since they took A Pen Dix away
where can one find that 'special' colon?
perhaps a sincere lung or two..
you can't be fussy when you are only a gland
and surely not the most popular ductless being in the graveyard today

so the little spleen put her details up on the binternerdmix
so many choices, trying out gland sites first...
shocking!
they have positively nothing to do with the circulatory system
www.spleensonly.com, www.organsthatplease.com, www.nakedsphincter.com
in the end it had to be www.pelvicsphlancnicganglyon.com
imagine if the bowels got wind of it...
the shame
a few choice photos
dufficult to get when there are always you-know-whats about...
sort out a little profile
alias, age, hobbies, and a quick run down on what it's all about

how do you gently fudge the topic of being full of BILE!!!?

the dissatisfaction hoax

In Reading the other day
i discovered the dissatisfaction hoax
a force so strong it bent people sidways
it changed their perspective beyond recognition...

Cymbeline Bloggs, 31, Jailkeeper, of Nutmeg, Hampshire says;
"watching the telly the other night, i learned that i were dissatisfied"

Alan Abitrary, 54, pig sticker, of Soapy Spittle, Old Hampshire says;
"my wife told me I was dissatisfied after the pot roast"

Denvis McCracking, 17, whiney git, of Layzee Eiens, Neu South Jutland states;
"I have never been more dissatisfied in my life, check out these spots"

Edoardo Strinzo, 24, llama farmer, of Saint Bollacks, Bolivarlandia says;
"If i could speak english, I would describe my self as dissatisfied"

Neufchatelle Mille Baise, 40, Seine Embankment Engineer of Noticeabilmente Superiore, LeSmug noted;
"fuck off, get out of my country with your dissatisfaction word"

Phuk ThaiBirdie, 15-28, Receptacle, of Huas A Him, Orientala says;
"my life bites tonally, dissatisfaction sounds great, please... anyone ?"

Kim Licenced 2 Ill, 141, despot, Pyongyang, Norf Korea-like booms;
"dissatisfaction can cause Roneriness, I'm so Roneree... "

Shake-n-bake Hashim al Qat, 58, Oppressor, Nebucanezzar, Yeoman notes;
"Your dissatisfaction results from denying the one true god, now go walk backwards with a yam up your arse around a big rock"

John 'prick' Howard, who gives a fuck ?, deceitful maladorous prick, who gives a fuck? White Australia weasels;
"I'm a horrid lying little bastard, Mummy called me her little 'ugly menstrual stain leech,' and on discovering my birth was disappointed to discover she had in fact not passed wind, the other kids at school shat in my lunchbox, having absolutely no redeeming features is how I fight off my dissatisfaction in the depths of the night"

Dull Bogan Slapper, 28, Single Mother at best, Suburbia West, Adelaidia moans;
"are you calling me a slut?"

bowling with your cazzo

just a stroll
mob mentality
bad jokes can HURT!
nothing that could mean too much to anybody
no possible implications
arghghghhghg
that sheepdog stare
the bestial glare
she never said
all the letters had the wrong address
snorts held in may damage your sinus
c'mon darling i wanna hold your hand
and fall down in the pain of the unspoken

moving swiftly along...

sunny daze
dodgy music
lazing away
too many beers
outdoor activities
feel the grassing knoll beneath you
poseurs and poseurinas
smokey old men
great big silly sunglasses
what is bocce?
what is boule?
what is petanque?
what are fighe?
why not shout to the heavens about it?
barbeques bengalore
Camel not content
instructions from the man
do not spare the facial hair
lay your left buttock down the line of the jack
(don't inform jack of this behaviour)
position the weight on your left shoulder
aim 18 cubic thumbs to the orange baston
DO NOT place your beer on the grass
bemoan the lack of beer without gluten
mill around without rhyme, reason, or knowledge of the season
I will stand over here
I will sit here
gabba bloody gabba bloody hey bloody hey fucking
He is the designated ditch bitch
You may not snigger at my incompetence
shield your eyes from the hair glare
launch your feelers in an off-white position
lets cluckle on ceaselessy
she shoots, she scores!!!
pretty little bottoms
all in a row
turn that frown all around!
let's try it from his end
oooh errr
who is that all swearing action man ?
from some far flung land ?
he wins
he wins
he golly gosh wins again
Cazzo!!!

that great new band 2 : stabbin practice

there they went
the 16 year old boys from someplace cold
with big groany shouting voices
huge clogged high heeled boots
and silly face masks and face paint
they sing (?), drum, play guitars, play keyboards etc etc
about the scary things they know
i will eat your kidney stones
i loved you until you smoked my smalls
dorothy won't do it to me
our love is a towering inferno of iceblocks
the big kid at school keeps kicking me
mum won't let me smoke cigarettes in the house
nobody understands me and my pain
boris has a big spot on his botty
but it's done in a wrwooooooooahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
guttural way
(that makes it more meaningful)

the good news being that they don't have gnus
in this pathetic uncivilized town
so, if you want to make the world know your pain
you have to stand back and let them practice their stabbin

big coats
misunderstood
bleached blonde or darker than dark
revenge reaping
it wasn't my fault
it was Christian Slater in Heathers
Why did you have to take away such a hot snatch?
He was the cool outsider
he was smarter than them
he went out in a blaze of gory
my impotence will only stretch so far
feel the wrath of us little spotty sad bastards
buy our cds
download our stabbin practice footage
flick that fringe
you have to be like us if you wanna be in the band
then we can show all those
spit spit
Twitney Spares/Jennifer Buttworks/Christian Aggylairia
what they make is not music
they don't know the way it feels

tbe mystery of the artist explained....

progression isn't

Progression is not proclamation nor palaver. It is not pretence nor play on prejudice. It is not of personal pronouns nor perennial pronouncement. It is not the perturbation of a people passion-wrought, nor a promise proposed. Progression is everlastingly lifting the standards that marked the end of the world's march yesterday and planting them on new and advanced heights today.'

US President Warren Harding as he accepted the Republican party nomination at its convention in 1912

the smugma conspiracy

one fine morning awoke a big haired git
he stared out the window
and wondered how it had come to pass
he never had felt any great love for her
in fact
he really didn't like her at all
and now he awakes to find himself married to mob
how did he,
an avid bitteriser
and lazy snake charmer
end up in this commune of toothy admiration
last time he checked he was single
big haired and butt fancy free
now he was number 6 on the rota
expected to filful he stud duties
lick the ears
polish the knee caps
and feed her tidbits of her own goodnesshood
'my, you look well informed today'
'you surely are the best intentioned of ladies'
'your knowledge of indonesia is unsurpassable'
'how pleasing it is to provide you with arses milk'

had he been drugged?
had he been fisted?
he sure looked stupid
and he wasn't smelling too good either...

looking down he saw a body that looked like his
but it was covered in orange
a painter he was, but this ?
what strange rituals of lovemaking had he been performing?
he only knew that his rear end hurt
that in itself was no big news
his feeble mind screamed and flashed with images
elbows elbows elbows elbows
teeth teeth teeth teeth

what life was this to be?
indentured and bonded
in the service of her majestic horridness
fetching, pausing, pondering and spawning

the screams of dozens of the little ones ripped his brain open
he no longer knew or cared which belonged to him
if ownership had not been outlawed
'we are all in this together, my cherubs'
a slave to hate
how could he break this chains
must he end his years in this ceaseless rutting?

Kaiser stihl

Dearly bedraggled
we are gathered where today to mourn the passing of a great man
at least i believe he was a man
he may have been a woman
sometimes it is hard to tell
i mean, have you seen some of the trans-cendental beings?
how many balls of fur?
saturday night at the greyhound here we come...
but this is an auto-digress
Franz walked among us
or more aptly perhaps,
scuttled amongst us
he never judged
he took refuge under sofas
he chewed his way out of devious traps
he chewed the fat and passed the time with his trusted confidante, Josef
he provided love and companionship
for strange space beings
with odd shaped paws and lacking in fur
with strange gangly bodies and limbs
he passed his time with them
in their varied forms
he humoured their whims
and played their games
for he was a truly tolerant being
he was taken from among us in an untimely manner
his mighty system of organs
proving not so mighty after all
leaving tears behind veils
aching stomachs
and a small
unquenchable hole in worlds
his straw may be trod by smaller beings now
humbly fulfilling duties
not seeking to replace him
but wishing for love and lettuce
in flourishing character
but Franz shall forever be
no organiser of Germany 2006

I didn't do IT

the drugs don't work
that's what Richard "I'm so bloody clever" Ashcroft said
but he also said that the Verve were "the best band on the planet"
big nosed wanker...
it would seem to me the drugs do work
I saw it on tv
it must be true
they make you happy
whilst they kill you
then when they wear off
they make you horribly unhappy
and you just wait for the next time around
itching, scratching (could be eczma)
yearning, tearing
hurting, freezing
WHEN?!!!

It must depend upon what effect you were hoping for...

Trainspotting, Requiem for a Dream, Spun...
You gotta admit
it looks like fun
but i shall do just fine thanks
sticking to the legal cocktail for the minute
the slippery slope don't work either
what a load of bollocks
theories dreamed up by tossers that have never tried any drugs
hang on?
caffeine is a drug
tobacco is a drug
alcohol is a drug
all those prescription numbers are drugs...
what's the difference?
it's not like tobacco or alcohol never killed fucking millions of people
take a trip around the coca museum in La Paz, Bolivia
a short educative (shock!) course on why what is what
when in doubt blame the americans...
still, the face of Shaun William Ryder or Keef Richards should be enough...
wwwwwwwwwwwwwoooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

worst blog ever

what do you do when your brain dont work no more?
write a crap blog....
i doubt anybody knows the difference
i doubt you could bite the snark
we open byzantium to the saracens
we close constantinopolis to salaadin
you sniff what you believe unsniffable
you blink and you drink of your own accord
stupid, uninformed, curiosity
all those words mean nothing to the man on the corner stripe
his red bottom ballooning high to signal his intentions
he's no buffoon
but he HAS seen the book
the book that holds the answers
the answer for which hundreds of thousands have died
the platinum snuff box of life
where the gods sewed their seeds
not like THAT
fancy sketching a mental picture of gods whacking off in whose camper
!!!
this is not that kind of blog
pervert
we fell
he fell
they fell
into your hell
my mind twirls and whirls
cedars of lebanon
tiskity boo
here we go....
dook dook dook

magnetic stripperbot

a lovely crunchy old theatre
some crunchy old blokes
a very crunchy Lemmy handle-bar moustache
comfy seating,
if a little off the sideways
huuuuuge speaker stack
belting out the sounds
a merch stand bulging with goodies
more than any sad bastard could deal with
great big posters with dingoes and pyramids
dashing beefeaters off down the esplanade
collecting plugs for the greater good
supports were great
sure...
the main act struts on
another mind blown
another ecstatic crowd enraptured
old groovers
young grooviners
wow and wow
the best icecream ever...
the best deep fried mars bar
the best haggis wrapped up in vine leaves
superlatives and superlaxatives
how does that man groove so...
rock star posie
after decades of stillness and role play
play that bass
right out of its case
what the hell was Mary thinking?
she really should wax her kneecaps
super set
old greats,
really old greats
not that old greats
new greats
greater than 19 stacks of great-o-matic
heel to toe
every time round is a treat
could never have been
foresight is the word for it
dancing the line between providence and hindsight
and it DOES get better
hallelujah (without the drugs)

and if you enjoyed that diatribe...

you could even pick up my favourite shopfront
and this delightful retractable bungwipe
and here he is...
say hello to beardvis
"hello beardvis"
enough about me, let's talk about me
"hello beardvis"
why all the effort and stress about your royal whiffiness?
"say hello to beardvis, beardvis"
"hello beardvis"
man, you really need to open up your mind
"ciao beardvis"
any decisions yet to be made?
"check out my new beardvis"
i can't see any beardvii
"watchu talking 'bout beardvis"
settle down beardvis
"take my bunghole seriously, dammit"
i can't see the relevance of your bunghole to this blog
"I have no bunghole"
it was your idea to drop the paranormal in the lavatory
"beards to you all"
I never knew that was important...
"beards a hoy hoy"
now moving right along....
"my almighty bunghole knows no bounds"
late in the day....
"beards are us"
I'm thinking of you
"i've got a lovely bunch of beard-me-nots"
so long.... so long.....
"your bunghole will know no fear after a ride through my mighty organs!"

Heime Henderson

I have a friend called Heime Henderson

Man - he is cool
fear not if his bottleshop changes colour before your very eyes...
it changed before my very house!
all tyring aside... the cable unwound and the walls became holy
shrines to buffoonery
playing darts, drinking beer with lemon wedges,
burning telephone books in shopping trolleys
cuttings on your knees
late night ranting
rent paying chicanery
lemons rolling under cars
kicking in the rickings
you know, the bigger they lunch
the harder it is clean up after them.
all the greats...
still no sign of Nicholas Parson's nose...


I sometimes worry that he won't have the gear I need
or that I won't be cool enough for his little bottle shop

But he does, and I am

It's OK

And it always will be

:-)

!!!!!

we better become more friendly with Heimi Henderson

Erikulo

I really like toast
It's one of the most versatile foods there is
You can have it wityh vegemite
or eggs
or tuna
or cheese
or eggs
hmmm.....

What's important is to drink limoncello before...
oggi e' il giorno piu bello della mia vita
ho inculato un diavolo tasmaniano per la prima volta
mi ha morso malissimo... ma sono contento lo stesso
e' questo la cultura per cui ho fatto 30 ore di volo...
adesso torno a casa
love Erik

loot loot thomas goes round there

loot
loot
lut
lut
loot
lut
lut
wait for it....
wait for it....
shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
ahahahahahhahahahahahahahahhahahah
that was pretty funny
loot loot
lut lut
switches bitches with hitches in their britches
tunnel tunnel
bridge bridge bridge
she's infallonable
batman is not buttman
breakneck speed
lut
lut
loot
loot
nad scathing
straightline flower power
up and over
in and under
wwwwwwwwwwwooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
stop before the car
and
loot
loot
who is this man?
who cares?
it's his package that counts
my cake spells disaster
lut
now, it's over to me...

who was that fat bastard?

was it just the other day?
the battle of trafalgar took on less than epic proportions
the toilets in the station were open
the toilets in the station were clean
ned kelly became a man meal
but even he could not replace a fat bastard
paul kelly tried, but he was just gristle
dan kelly moved in his own groove
but his fringe encumbered his progress
i never knew i wanted a fat bastard
i never knew a fat bastard could be so satisfying
hopes high
parking in the parking
not yet camping in the you know what
screeching to the heavens
(sure they are)
good woman, I demand a fat bastard
(not knowing what this mysterious object was)
only to be cut off with news that no fat bastard was available
is there a christian businessmen without testicles meeting in the town hall? i meekly enquired
No, she proclaimed... they were in demand
the younglings rounded them up around morning dinner time
only now realising the folly of my ways
i cut a hasty retreat with a nose bag o ned
and had to make do
as day turned to night
the beasties in the easties circled
the night sky churned
day scorched holes in cows
night fell and became the great equalizer
horizontally challenging
so on and so forth this cycle continued
pushing back ladies' skirts
rubbing wrong rhubarbs
until the day of the fat bastard came
it didnt begin with great fanfare
tickertape parades?
no way josebot
it dawned as inevitably as the desire on a billboard
would the fat bastard bare his wares?

zanzarra on the outer

the night was very soft
excrement smeared on the walls
landlords and landwhores?
a beautiful glow
turn down the candles
look up and admire the handiworks
of nobody, or nothing
Capella Sistina this aint
you may stay more than five minutes
you can breathe without recrimination
the Papa can't fleece you out here
regardless of his views on inferior belief constructs
if only he didn't matter
get comfortable
slip your boots off
silence the heathen hair brigade
hear the tsk tsk tsk
of the disapproving fellows
in their last desperate moments
what a way to go....
the drugs are running low
opportune moment to polish your red one
and miss the point completely
rehash the hashpipe
weezer never really rocked my boat
feel the relax
wiggle your toes in tune with that bloke in the grass
it's big
it's wow
it's now
it's midweek meat market
your exposed surfaces are just begging for it
couch your bows
hissing and a-crunching in the dark
would freak me if i were Belgian
but no,
bite, sting, punzecchiare, eat, suck, steal...
bastardi!

no monkeys on me

Jarvis day at the observer website...
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/omm/0,,1033618,00.html

lazy not getting lazier...

clock radio blues

kerrryn was coldf
\\\\\\whe knwoenlekncv a
djga;ksldj;lasdkfj;asdlkfjdiofaseio;f
kfjsdl;kjf;laskjf;dlsfjk
was his agog..
in this way]

kfj;aslkdjfal;kjfsd;lkjf;sdlkjfsdl;kjf
fjak;jf;ldksjf;laskjf;lsdkjf
;sdkljfal;kjf;dlkfjal;sdkfjdkl;jf;sdkljflsd;kfj
sodfj;laskdjf;asdkljfl;sdkjfdjf

hex dump me.... un my7 sejmemldlsjfdkljf
semene semeraealk;jfsdl;akjfl;sdkfjsl;d
oh know thasts lite a
shyedehgfdfj;aklsjfl;dksjfl;dkjf;ldkjf

wkfusdkl;jfadfjk
pixxx]
oh tkldjf;akljf;sdlakjf;aslkjdf;sdlkjf;askldjf;sldkajfl;sdkfj
loooks like this...
lsdklkasjf;dklsjf;alskdjf
dfkja;lksjfd;ls
ghevais way gay... wahts shall conoc bre


dfa;dsfklajsdkl

misogyny has a wide butt

this morning i woke up with a camel in my bed
and he woke up with a nad in his shed of souvlaki juice
so he had to shake out his boxer shorts to be rid of the little green shreds
one of them was called Thomas, he was very fresky that fine morning
he had a poncho for little green bits, crazy old women and men called Beavis
beavis, never let it be said...
anything at all really
yeah, coz then the goat sold his shares in bastardi corp as the price fell when it was revealed that the humour wasn't worth her whotsit
which is odd, because her whotsit usually fetches such a great price
gteat was an author, most illbred and has swarthy fotches of oil were highly woven and sought after when he must ruck to the lavatory
does anyone else think this blog doesn't make sense??
it's almost as if it was written by two different people, every second line is so different!
banana, banana, banana
apricot, apricot, apricot
she knew when she listed the above fruits that it would be found in breach of the lavatory draft 7 mix and feared the awesome place where one shits
but lavatory draft 7 mix plays the best of old and new rock, and if you listen to all our hits and remember every 14545262 song you could win, win, WIN!!!!
oops my vocoder just fell out.. whats a vocoder?
well, when a mummy and a daddy vocoder love each other very much........!!!!!
what? they buy a house and demand the beavii/rats get driven into the streeets and wonder whyyyyyyy?
obviously. It's the latest version of middle class angst
oh, i only know how to watch the simpsons
connor only knows how to what the mimons...... oh, and futurlama
oh the fair maiden said oh.
oh , what shall we do,
crap in your blacmange
or be really grown up and call everyone bwana?
or just call everyone
on the phone
like a gteat big fucking grown up
hhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
the gteat family is one of the longer read lines in the country of frottshire
they all knew the gteats as great masters but few knew of their PENCHANT
but in fact the ponchios are a very prominant brighton family!
or at least so said esther
or elspeth
i can't remember now!
anyhoo - i've got my M16
i once spent an omelette with a bloke that reckoned his cousin't friend's wilderbeest ate at MI5's cafe
Beavis - SMUG ALERT!!!!!!!!!
how about the word smirk?? You havne't said that yet????
importantly at the start of this campaign, rear admiral Kevin knew where her butt sat
i like a woman who knows where her butt starts and finishes!!!
or maybe 4!
hey know, hey know, hey know
hey knonny know
hey low brow!
hey hey hey now
the following will be really meaningful: ".... (lengthy pause)....it's better to never ever anything ever than to die on your knees". And I mean that!
In the nicest possible way
i don't want to talk about what died on my knees
i thought you'd already had that surgically removed???
or most of it at least
there will always be the memories
and the remnant DNA
ummmmmmmmm - how about that reggae then??
i really quite like that guy with the dread locks
i think he is from the sadam
you know, like bob marley
or eddie grant-veder
where does the term reggae come from?
is it a carabbean word for dreadlocked drug fiend?
or just for really relaxed music?
or maybe it's a german word
for "OK, we'll tolerate you, but only if you bring the hooch"????
anyhoo - i really think the maraccas should be used more in the reggae

that drunken bloke was....

One minute you are wiffling in your capsule
things are getting a bit grim
the smile is wearing a bit thin
things not working out
people not pedalling fast enough
mental jumping up and down won't force the octagonal peg
i'm not disappointed in myself...
darn darn darn
then, bokko
let's make the most of the host
some white line fever
some gangrene hunters
a big ole bag of blah blah blah
not to be confused with rant rant rant
or sit right down and whittling away-* at chairlandia
when did everything become so bearable?
that funny side wasn't visible before
those were flailings
not necessarily failings....
here comes the bride
all dressed in helmut
playing luv thy neighbour
yootha more teeth (and glug glug)than most people
george more cardigan (and comb over) than most people
no racist stereotypes out of this rampart of goodness
no fish and chip bitch from ipswich
although there is a Bob from Billericay

hey there,
what's you name?
consider yourself serenaded

so the savior shows his pretty face
gets out his pretty tummy
and before you can say 'faisel is a key religious figure in Islam'
the scenery swims and modestly changes just outside your line of sight
who is this man?
this bar was never so broad
floundering over furry tables
and it's off to the tired old philosophy shop for a new 'un
life changing moments may happen
someplace else
to some bodies unknown
make decision and put your sorry corpse up for crucifixion
stick by your hum guns
wear the scorn with a foolish grin
that drunken bloke was her!
that drunken bloke was me!
as there may just be a two headed love beast just outside
or there may just not ...

Bruce is never going to call

so we sit about and waste our lives
pretending that bruce will call
we all know that he won't
he can't even use a telephone
and his legs are all wobbly
last time bruce called
18 people in azerbaijan died
of shock
so it's best that we sit about waiting for bruce to call
he might have something important to say
he probably won't
but you never know
just in case bruce might call
the heavens got moved sideways
coz it seemed that bruce might call
bottom cheeks clenched and unclenched
in hope
that bruce might call
sooner rather than later
bruce might call
and leave the world a stranger
but better place
if, on the very, very, extremely odd chance
that bruce might call
we shall rejoice and throw our variegated scarves in the air
dance in circles, holding hands and making sweet passionate love
embracing our neighbours as if they were at one with our inner beings
take that goat,
float that boat
meet that smote
trim that moat
learn that rote
then,
on the other hand
if bruce MIGHT NOT call
well that would be a completely different set of circumstances...

Ian Rush of blood

Put me behind the wheel baby
give me old folk music
watch me rev off into the distance
Leonard Cohen thrills me
some other moaning old geezer titillates me
make short work of all the greats
indicate? phooey!
accelerate? bollocks!
brake? in yer dreams!
gesticulate wildly? Not bloody likely mate!
park? what's that, some croquet pitch?
reserve? I can't even spell it!
glaring at YOU? I don't even have it in me!
bang angrily on the horn? That bus never stopped near me!

cover great distances in the time it took Vasco Da Gama to establish a football team?
cruise under bridges without ducking my head?
make sweeping generalisations about the human race?
wonder what David Coulthard was thinking in the tiny bit of second he passed over that spot?
admire the clock pensively and wish it were dashier?
enjoy a meeting of minds with the colour white?
shamelessly fill in space of a blog?
notoriously short attention spa

sleeping in the reaping

Ciao Mondo,
today i woke up and i had forgotten how to speak English
I walked around
scratched some things
looked at the fridge
nicked my fine booty
skulls and bleached bone bags
and left it in the bacterium

So, the inspiration was left behind without any perspiration
try eating your pizza without learning something
defiles my gainsaying
wander down a street
wonder what on earth is going on
who are all these people?
what are those beer shaped sweeties in my dreams?
will the young man find out?
what is going on here?

Back to the land of noddy
pictures and colours
turn into spelling mistakes
a beautiful bright day
in somebody elses garden
small parcels of drugs
furtive looks
what does this mean?

normal service may yet resume
a free to a good home story
move your wig
sitting around the fire
3 dimensional wafting in the wind
valid excuses are no longer blocking up the hallway
gonna go wait for the man
not enough dollars in my sweaty hand
at what point does the waking world meet the other?

burning, looting and driving taxis about

screw you Mr Cab driver

The day before yesterday...

Yesterday is the past to the future
the future will be tomorrow.
The church is for today.
Tomorrow never comes
The night falls to another day
which will be tomorrow day.
Simonopolous lives for the past
A few days ago is too late.
Always move forwards & onwards
Progress is to move two steps forward & one step back
Back to front is inside out,
white will be white & black is evil.
Futurarama is cool, tomorrow..
Live for today not yesterday :)
The day after tomorrow is too far away
Just around the corner,
the corner to Camelopoulous..
Now, the day before yesterday
is forgotten.
Enjoy your day & see you tomorrow....

fotte zio

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Ill fitting head

Picture this;
You go forth for a lovely day at the phlegmball
Make an arduous trip unnecessarily more arduous
hair fixing and steaming machines
miss the last goat boat at moat central
travel at sublime time speed
scrabble onto a cartload of rabble
become agreeably late
grin inanely at the familiar icons
when you land, make a shorter than expected pilgrimmage
enter a public house full of public
meet up with seemingly pleasant folk
so good so far... i'm sure you will agree
the mutual friends mosey off to powder their behinds (simultaneously)
3 fresh acquaintances, real adult bloke ones, making small talk...
lovely day for it
where do you live then?
so you are Anna's Aunt?
who is Anna...?
who do you fancy for the 2.25 at Chepstow?
Sad Ken hey?
make mine a flat flavourless one
cheers mate
You were backing communism ?
Perfectly understandable
the fervour of the times
No, never ridden an elephant
Sure you have!
does his bum look big in this?
not as big as his beret!
there are no trams in Abergeveny you know
no, there never were... you are thinking of Aberystwyth!
yeah, yeah
You get the picture...
then BOKKO!
from the mouth of the pleasantly funny looking chap a deep bowel-rattling baritone thunders...
"I WILL EAT AND DIGEST YOU ALL WITH MY SYSTEM OF MIGHTY ORGANS. BEHOLD!"
and he ripped open his chest cavity for all to admire bespoke organs...

time stands still
4 eyes fix on bulging veins
then on eachother
fellow patrons stop dead
thuggish polynesian hard men stiffen up
mutual friends appear
at co-incidentally timed 30 second intervals
he's fixing his hair
she's grinning sheepishly

Slowly the hububb picks up where the rhubarb left off
One word please,
Have you noticed that his arms flail around?
the eyes look in opposite directions
His head doesn't quite sit straight
and nobody has worn those shorts since 1984!

asbestos in obstetrics

Well well well...
pozzo pozzo pozzo
back in black with white cubes
back on track without slack
flying in the wind
all these great ideas binned
boxes in boxes
garages in garages
parking your pompino
parking in the parking
camping at the camping
footing to the jogging
salvagente, small world
grey and greyer
zips and rips
clamber through a rock bolt hole
what is beyond that wall of sound?
an orange duck
passes no judgement
a Juicy on her mission
rocks and stones may break your bones
but a boner rock
is to be found
scrabble left
scrabble right
there they come
marching up the beaches
bayonettes raised and protuberances poised
a carry on
that never was carried on...
sospiro profondo

The Capsule & The SBFplanade

what's that mad quacking ?
folding, taping and placing?
the bells of other mens' hells...
good news everyone
it's time to get the shit together
arrange your stash
juggle the cards
ravel your cord
herd the llamas into the large box
rewind your borrowed DVDs
exhale all the drugs into small baggies
prick your inflatable dollies
try to gulp back all the bullshit you have released on the world
dissemble your easel
turn on the lights in the dark room
unplug the electric maraccas
eccetera eccetera

a trip to the capsule
lots of brown wood noise
and white, white
natural light
click on the clacker
insert key and gyrate 3 times to the left
play sardines in the Entry Zone
wonder just what it would be like if it broke down
sure makes it hard to rob the bank
pull tight the gate
make for the doorrrrrrrrrr
many keys
more portals
the scary door
that leads to nowhere
the BIG door
which hides the BIG cup
doors to other worlds
and the little boy's room
deceitful storage
Dali-esque tricks on the mind's eye

Let the capsule dissolve in your gullet
nuff said?
off to Italo-Scozzese-Francese ristorante
laments and bemoans
Pizza that doesn't resemble pizza
a twilight plate of food
Piazza di Margate?
what the fuck ?
move onwards and leewards
2 sheets to the wind
3 sheets to set sail
our armada didn't get dashed on the atlantic coast
a big bad landmark
just like on TV
but not on TV
with a bigger, badder and bruttier residential tower looming large
some old same old
and isn't the Damon so lovely
Primrose Will?
Death to Bojangles
blocking ooer vue
who is this man?
high dealing,
big wheeling
Leon wielding
no joy in this joyless void
take a seat
make the most of your foam
admire nature in her many splendid forms
big hair where?
big hair there
biological meter is ticking
generations of reason
polish or perish

Tavolo the Impaler

There once barely existed a faraway village
in the Really Quite Overcast Ages
Somewhere in mittle Europe
where people scuttled between houses
spoke some impenetrable language
looked kind of surly and swarthy
and wore those strange trouser-girdle numbers
thatched roofs
thatched windows
thatched benchtop work spaces
thatched thatches
(ever wonder how Maggie got so rich?)
on a craggy cliff top overlooking this hamlet
was the castle of the Evil One
It was a fairly bog standard castle
Ramparts, drawbridges, turrets and a general air of menace
the locals could never be drawn on their feudal overlord
At the public house a 'strictly no felt-tip' policy was enforced
any questions by curious strangers abroad the land were shrugged off like a cheap pizza haus uniform
young and middle-aged wives' tales abounded about the maester
but it weren't the maester that provided the danger
nor his spooky abode
'twas what was 'round back that zipped the lips twixt
for this shat-eau of gloom
had a special dungeon
that was the right of only the most aristocratic fear strikers...
'twas an outdoor (some time heated) dungeon
in the murky waters of said dungeon did true evil lurk..
in front of the palm trees
a bit to the left of the outdoor entertainment and human sacrifice area
not near the spa
not anywhere near a diving board
this place WAS bad
it didn't need beat its chest and make bold melodious claims

it was rumoured that in the depths of this dungeon of dastardliness
floating gently on the surface really
circulated a piece of art
an installation
so full of loathing, hatred and bad karma
lazing its way back and forth
clockwise, anti...
figure-eights
back and FRO
you name it...
of a chilling white hue
which glared in the sunshine
to blend in with the solidly blue background
it bumped and grinded
road the waves of impunity
waiting for the next victim
flotsam and jetsam were forever being cast its way
stympies, footballs, newspapers of language
pre-loved alcohol containers
chairs, tables and buffoons
the occasional innocent was said to have ventured 'round back
and on return
to never have been quite the same

How was it called,
this beast with no name,
that held its sting close
cruelly mocking
unmissable
jutting straight up into the air
like a harbinger of plastic doom
waiting for the next blind apostate

T'was no lesser evil than ....
Tavolo the Impaler

The Sluicer Gooser

Well, where to begin....?
I have never written to a bloke with a wart on his knob before
anyway, here goes.
Hi Sluice Goose,
I was just thinking about you. Mainly because I didn't have anything else to think about. There is no reality TV shows on and I have cut off all my digits and put them in 3 flavour ice cream. Anyway, this is supposed to be a salutation to an object of my affection. So .... errr .... how is your work/children/weather report/asthmatic aardvark? It would really mean a lot to me if you could tell me about it/them/it/it. I mean, it's not every day you meet a bloke as fascinating as you. I met 15 on Wednesday past.
Does the expression 'au-go-going through your potions' mean anything to you?
It certainly doesn't to me. Anyway, now I have made a small black animated child a little more meaningful, must dash!
thanks for the good times
(figuratively speaking)
I hope to find you on the other side and with those green trousers you talked so much about...
wink wonk
Your biggest fan this side of the episcopal boundary rider
Kevin B-B'stardvis

make mine a bourbon and keyboard

a recipe for disaster
ingredients:
1 part keyboard
4 parts Bourbon
1 part pissed idiot
2 parts missing keys
2 parts climbing in the window
17 parts stomped on flowers
1 part flyscreen misplaced
112 parts amazement that nothing got broken
13 parts smiling assassin
4 parts Horn of Africa taxi driver
9.5 parts ranting and raving
40 parts goodish intentions
4 parts interpersonal stimulation
0.5 part never gonna do that again
20 parts sidepart
16 parts bad pronunciation

Method;
1. mix all ingredients with varying success
2. try not to fall over
3. do not impale yourself on art installation
4. have a 'great idea'
5. seek to change the galaxy by doing precisely nothing
6. feel thirsty
7. add motorbike chain and oil
8. swig at bottle of bourbon
9. miss head completely
10. apply liberally to keyboard
11. ecco pronto!!!