Haiku Fridays are here to stay... apparently.
Fridays are rubbish,
So much expectation,
Just disappointment.
This is such a crap idea.
Friday, 24 September 2010
Saturday, 18 September 2010
I know it's not Friday
A friend of mine declared this Friday the 17th of September in the grim year of our lord 2010 to be the first Haiku Friday. So it shall be, she brought this horror on the world.
As is fitting and just the first is about her. Out of context it is a certain shade of crap, please remember I am but a pawn in these twisted games.
Lucy is loco,
She redefines renegade,
She's Lucy Cannon.
Wait, why did I do this?
As is fitting and just the first is about her. Out of context it is a certain shade of crap, please remember I am but a pawn in these twisted games.
Lucy is loco,
She redefines renegade,
She's Lucy Cannon.
Wait, why did I do this?
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Wise, Good, Wild, Grave.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
This was obviously written by Dylan Thomas and not me. It is one of the many reasons that I choose to stay alive.
Thursday, 2 September 2010
Friday, 27 August 2010
When The Dog Bites, When The Bee Stings: Part Three
Cigarettes:
If you used to smoke but quit then shut up. You're like an ex gang member who became a youth worker.
I'm going to see this through to the end, by the time I get lung cancer it'll be a simple operation to fix me, it's you people dying of nothing that are fucked.
And remember, while you're sat inside the nice cosy pub feeling smug I'm outside huddled under the shelter with the hotty you clocked at the bar, making her think I'm a decent guy and telling her I write poetry, and we already have something in common.
I stole a joke from Bill Hicks because he is funny and I like his jokes they are good. We went to the pub and I had a pint it tasted like cold fizzy bin water and cost all my pocket money. The girl I met in the shelter she was nice she had a tattoo on her back. This Christmas I would like a sword and for daddy to stop making mummy cry and a Thomas the Tank Engine I have been good all year.
If you used to smoke but quit then shut up. You're like an ex gang member who became a youth worker.
I'm going to see this through to the end, by the time I get lung cancer it'll be a simple operation to fix me, it's you people dying of nothing that are fucked.
And remember, while you're sat inside the nice cosy pub feeling smug I'm outside huddled under the shelter with the hotty you clocked at the bar, making her think I'm a decent guy and telling her I write poetry, and we already have something in common.
I stole a joke from Bill Hicks because he is funny and I like his jokes they are good. We went to the pub and I had a pint it tasted like cold fizzy bin water and cost all my pocket money. The girl I met in the shelter she was nice she had a tattoo on her back. This Christmas I would like a sword and for daddy to stop making mummy cry and a Thomas the Tank Engine I have been good all year.
Sex Advice with Dr Nadin et al
This week our palatial offices have been literally swamped with bog like standing water and marshland flora and fauna. One plant that sprouted during this freak occurrence pollinated a filing cabinet and the resulting offspring were all annoying letters asking for sex advice from Lucy Pinder or another annoying oxygen thief running around without her vest on.
I have come to the conclusion that it is now my responsibility to answer these questions because it's my blog and I can write what I want.
If you are offended, you should probably get yourself sterilized for the good of my sanity and the human race at large.
Q: I allwayes get cramp in my fooot wen sheez rydin me, wot shud I do?!
A: Admit that you like the pain, plan a romantic evening complete with nipple clamps, hot wax and if you're feeling adventurous, a strap on. If she's into it too, why not try some self-immolation play? The horrific scarring will bring you closer together as a couple and there's a potential for a new career path in the niche porn/freak show/channel 4 documentary field.
Q: Me gf givs crap hed, wot shud I do??!
A: Throw her in at the deep end, literally. It's easier if she can't swim, otherwise a hessian sack filled with bricks can speed up the process. Make sure to use acid to burn her fingertips and use a sledgehammer to smash her jaw and teeth. Don't get stingy when it comes to bin-bags, the thicker the better.
If you think that she wouldn't be into this, just force it down her throat and go to town. If she bites it off, there's always the niche porn/freak show/channel 4 documentary to fall back on.
Q: I wanta doo me gf up da wrong whey, what shud I do??!!!
A: Trade her in for a boyfriend, you can still get good part exchange deals even in the current economic climate.
Seriously, get out of the closet, I know it's a big step, but it's got to be better than crying every time you have a wank, and the extra salt in your semen probably makes it taste terrible. Try drinking pineapple juice.
After reading this back I realize that many people may be offended, if you are then I suggest hanging as the most effective remedy.
I have come to the conclusion that it is now my responsibility to answer these questions because it's my blog and I can write what I want.
If you are offended, you should probably get yourself sterilized for the good of my sanity and the human race at large.
Q: I allwayes get cramp in my fooot wen sheez rydin me, wot shud I do?!
A: Admit that you like the pain, plan a romantic evening complete with nipple clamps, hot wax and if you're feeling adventurous, a strap on. If she's into it too, why not try some self-immolation play? The horrific scarring will bring you closer together as a couple and there's a potential for a new career path in the niche porn/freak show/channel 4 documentary field.
Q: Me gf givs crap hed, wot shud I do??!
A: Throw her in at the deep end, literally. It's easier if she can't swim, otherwise a hessian sack filled with bricks can speed up the process. Make sure to use acid to burn her fingertips and use a sledgehammer to smash her jaw and teeth. Don't get stingy when it comes to bin-bags, the thicker the better.
If you think that she wouldn't be into this, just force it down her throat and go to town. If she bites it off, there's always the niche porn/freak show/channel 4 documentary to fall back on.
Q: I wanta doo me gf up da wrong whey, what shud I do??!!!
A: Trade her in for a boyfriend, you can still get good part exchange deals even in the current economic climate.
Seriously, get out of the closet, I know it's a big step, but it's got to be better than crying every time you have a wank, and the extra salt in your semen probably makes it taste terrible. Try drinking pineapple juice.
After reading this back I realize that many people may be offended, if you are then I suggest hanging as the most effective remedy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)