Wednesday, 28 December 2011

Autistic Fred

Autistic Fred watched 'Rainman'
And thought that we would be good at maths.

He booked 2 tickets to Vegas,
But was rubbish.

In 6 games of 21,
He Lost all his family's money
And a cat.

Camilla the Cougar

Camilla the Cougar
Invited Mike the young man
To come over
To help her
Move some boxes.

He arrived and bent down to lift the first box
And his perk buttucks poking in the air
Made Camilla salivate

Oooo, not like that,
Said Camilla, You'll get too hot
Take that shirt off...
And Mike, none the wiser, obliged.

Mike then lifted the second box,
Ooooo, not like that,
Said Camilla, You might rip those tight trousers,
Take them off...
And Mike, none the wiser, obliged.

Mike moved the final box,
And half-naked, he turned to Camilla,
Who now had amylase dripping all down the side of her mouth.

He looked into Camilla's eyes,
He saw the lustful look on her face,
And he knew now that Camilla
Hadn't just invited him over only to 'move the boxes'...

So he went and moved some of the heavier crates aswell.

And then had sex with her.

Friday, 23 December 2011

Arrogant Ben

Ben chuckled at a point I made
And declared,
'You know Sam,
We're not too different you and I'
Which I personally thought
Was a pretty arrogant thing to say.

Thursday, 15 December 2011

Fat World

Fat brothers,
Fat mothers,
Fat lovers
Fat smothered
Everything, Everyone
Fat world.

Eat the jam.

Then eat your way out of a jam.

Eat brothers
Eat their lovers
Eat their lover’s mothers
Grab more, Grow tall
Eat the kid making Nike shoes in
The factory’s walls.
Eat them all
After all
It’s fat world.

Don’t take one, take four
Take the bigger house with the bigger door
The bigger porch with the bigger floor
On the bigger beach with the better shore
The answer’s always in eating more

So collect the fat by being bold
And keep collecting til your old

Then win, and die with lots of fat
In fat world.

Monday, 12 December 2011

The housewife Julie

The housewife Julie
Put on some techno
And took some crystal meth
There was only 5 hours before Peter returned,
The house was a tip.
‘He will be livid!’, she panicked.

So she started doing what she could,
Indeed whatever she could muster
Dusting books, dusting wood,
She even dusted a duster.

There was only 4 hours now.

Julie took another line of crystal meth,
And put on some more techno,
A more underground variety this time,
Proper minimal.

2 hours now
She ran around the house some more
1 hour now
She took some more meth
0 hours now!
Peter arrived into his home
‘What a mess!’ he thought,
Looking at his overdosing wife on the sofa…
‘Not again.’

Friday, 9 December 2011

The Set Up

The whole thing had been a right palava,
And Mark couldn't help but turn to Tara,
and ask her
'Why, oh why Tara,
is every girl you set me up with
A complete bloody dog?'

'But Mark...' said Tara,
'No no Tara, don't even start here
I mean, was this a joke?
I mean, I'm not a bad looking bloke?
'Well' said Tara, 'I know'
But before you continue,
You could at least wait for her to leave'

At which, Mark turned to his now crying blind date,
'Sorry dear' Said Mark,
'Nothing personal...
This is Tara's fault if anything.'

Alkene Love

If I were to compare my love
To an Alkene,
I would not have much to say.
Because an alkene is a complex molecule
And you are simple
A simple whore.
I don't even like you.


Tony the builder entered the greasy spoon caff,
'I'll av a bacon n' egg saunie please darlin'
'Would you like that with ciabatta?' enquired the attendant,
To which Tony replied; 'Na, I'm alright for coffee thanks luv'

Thursday, 8 December 2011


Daphne is one of those fancy dames
She sits in one of those fancy restaurants
With one of those fancy names
Like 'la creme de la sais'
She is the pretentious type
As is the restaurant in which she so smugly resides
You know the kind,
Where all the mains, desserts, and sides
Are written in French
And the waiter speaks it too,
So it can't be understood
By the lowly likes of me nor you.
Pretentious farts,
Though admittedly Daphne is
In France.

Monday, 5 December 2011

Ms. Avenicci

A vuxen wench,
The young student Ms. Avenicci
Sat at the front of her biology lecture on birds.
Professor Lazarus tapped his mouse
The next powerpoint slide appeared
'The study of Great Tits', it read.

'But Sir,
I already know all about those'
Ms. Avenicci joked
And how the class did laugh.
'Why, yes you do,' Lazarus chuckled.
"Why... yes, yes, you do.'

But it was to be his last laugh for some time,
As Ms. Avenicci got him fired for sexual harassment.

Love in Blood

I am your carbon monoxide
In this thick blood love lake
You are my haemoglobin.

As many Oxygen try to have their way
I stride
Binding to your Fe+ Ion
(Because I have 200 times the binding power)

Together we become one
Together we are inseparable
We are fated
And destined
To become carboxihaemoglobin

Shabby Dog

Shabby Dog paws the glass
Then proceeds to pause
And Bark;
'Grant me entry to your home!
For I do not wish
To be left

Shabby dog is manic though contented soon
As soon as freed from this wet afternoon.

I let him in and so simply his mood changes fast
As how happily he now sits on this side of the glass.

'Life is good,'
He looks into the fog,
'Life is good,'
I envy the dog.

Jungle Hippo

I met a hippo in the jungle,
He ate my sandwich.
I asked him why,
He said he was hungry.
I said you know what mr. hippo,
You're a no good cliche.

Strange Love

I'd split up with mine,
She with Hers.
Her boyfriend had been a pig,
Mine, a shrew that I could not tame.
United by pain,
Over our seperate break-ups,
Penny and I became much closer.

As with many good things,
It started simply,
Tea and TV,
Where conversation was quaint,
And acted as diversion from the pain
Our former loves had left us...

Sunday, 4 December 2011

Dinner With The Johnsons

'Baked Beans...' Said John
'What?' Said Tracey
'B-B-Baked Beans,' Said John
'What?' Said Tracey
And smashed his plate against the wall.
'But you made dinner John,'
'I know,' He said.
'And that's the saddest part.'

Saturday, 3 December 2011

We walk sideways

To time, we are nothing,
To monsters, we are monsters
To crabs, we walk sideways

To oak trees, we are rushed
To ants, we are lazy
To crabs, we have too many fingers

"Oh Man of Earth" The crab did ask
"why do you so walk sideways and hath so many fingers?"
And The Man of Earth said,

Shutup Crab.
You Crab.

And served him with some linguine and lemon,
Following a recipe from

Thursday, 1 December 2011

Definitely Not Addicted To Skyrim

Impressed by their big budget film trailer-esque adverts, last week I went out and brought a copy of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim for Playstation 3.

Well that's not quite true actually, for even if the advert had been a man pretending to slightly part the sky before proceeding to vigorously lick the imaginary crack he had created (hence sky-rimming), I still would have gone out and brought that game for sure. In mildly ashamed honesty, I will confess to the possession of odd thirsts that cannot be addressed by anything we have in this world, to thirsts which are instead quenched only by dragon's blood, levelling up, and 100 or more hours of talking to medieval villagers.

Wednesday, 30 November 2011

A Memory

Today a memory of a night I spent homeless and tent-less in an immense storm skipped to mind, and a smile slipped across my lips for several seconds. For all the better memories we pursue, it can often be the worse ones we remember most fondly.

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Larry Lizzard (pt 1.)

Larry's mother had never said 'you are what you eat', as she felt it was misleading. To her recollection she'd never seen someone turn into a hamburger, or a carrot dipped in humous per say. She deemed instead that men (and women) were defined by their actions, that they became what they did, that in fact, you are what you do. This ethos was drilled into Larry from a tender age, through to his early pubic years and through to where we join him now, at a less tender and more (if not fully) pubic age of 21, lying asleep in his university house.

Thursday, 13 October 2011


I had a friend by the name of Tim
He was accustomed to people walking all over him,
Used to being a peasant by the throne,
He lamented the day that he grew a backbone.
Because his friends would now say
'Oi Tim! Make us some tea!'
And he'd now say

And they were shocked!
And they were stunned!
They said now, now Tim,
You're no fun.
And they cast him out on his own,
And he lamented the day that he grew a backbone.

And so he came to me to ask for some advice,
And I said woah Tim, slow down,
Firstly go make me some rice,
And while he did this I came up with an idea real quick
An idea I was sure would do just the trick.
And he followed the plan
And now people walk all over him and don't realise all day
As right now he's lying down dressed head to toe in grey,
Pretending to be part of the pavement.

So if you walk down the street,
And you hear the odd 'Ow!'
Just remember that's Tim,
And he's happy now.

Batman and The Joker

The Joker lay on the floor, foiled again. Sprawled across another scene of narrowly-averted disaster, he seemed unusually numbed, his ever-present and scenario-independent sense of self-smugness and gratification appearing to have deserted him. Indeed there was no laugh this time as batman put the cuffs on, there was no manic cackling or threats of 'oh you wait and see Bat! This isn't over yet', instead just a sigh. A tired, tired sigh. A long sigh as well, the kind of sigh which says 'You know, I''ve just had enough of this all'. The sigh finally ended, and the Joker muttered 'You know, I've just had enough of this all', confirming any preconceptions regarding the meaning of the aforementioned sigh this narrator may have had.

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

So Long Honey

A vacuum moves through me,
It tingles inside wherever it goes,
It makes me feel anxious and empty,
It makes time move so slow.

I don't see the point of anything any more
Without you.
I don't want to go to the beach,
To the park, in the car,
Anywhere particularly far,
Anywhere close

I suppose I'm sorry I had to let you go.

You're sorry too, sure,
I can tell from the way you look and lure
Me with your perfectly maintained physique,
Arriving at all these parties ever so chique,
You then tart yourself round the coolest cliques,
Locking lips with a boy or two, or even a girl,
While you pretend not to,
Though I know you stare at me while doing so.

You are too sexy.
I am too drunk.

I take you in my hand
I take you outside
I light you on fire as you do me
I'd missed you
I breathe you in more deeply than I ever have wished to before
Unnerving satisfaction at every touch of our lips
And I sudden realise I'm finished,
A minute gone, it's the quickest we ever did this.

I stub you on the floor.

The deed done,
And with it, whatever passion there was
That would've had me want this
Instantly evapourated.

Lust leaves,
Clarity returns, carrying the bad times,
The physical abuse you gave me,
How you trapped me.
How I wanted out.

I look at your brown and withered end laying on the floor,
I decide this time to be the last.
But know it will be hard
With all the drink at all the parties I know
Both you and I intend
To attend.

Monday, 3 October 2011

Some Feminism

Women are on the front of every magazine. Magazines directed at men will have a woman on the front, as naturally a woman is the object of man's desires and so it will sell. Magazines directed at women will have a woman on the front also, as women want to be like that woman on the front and, in doing so, become an object of man's desire. In essence, our magazines - which only reflect out culture - are dominated by men's desires, where the only desire of the woman is to be something that a man wants. This is quite sad I think, women should be promoted to have more of their own, independent desires, so maybe there should be more magazines with like kitchen cleaners on the front or something.


Thomas was unusually afraid of death. He'd lie in bed, kept up til early hours while his mind would endlessly play out processes of aging, decay and demise. His sleep became thinner, as did he, who gradually grew gaunt from exhaustion. He tired further and further, while in turn any barriers which existed separating his weary thoughts of the night and his more alert and relevant thoughts of the day began eroding, and it was not too long before he limped through his days in a half-lucid dream, crippled by this ever present fear.

Thomas was a man who snapped,
Life for him was too much
When death was attached,
And his fear of ceasing to exist
Lead him to fling himself off a cliff,
Sillily then causing
His existence to be ceased.

He realised the apparent irony in his final act, and couldn't help but chuckle to himself one last time, before his head and back cracked on the jagged rocks below.