Run-ins and Misunderstandings

Steps Must be Taken- Bored Now-

Fruit

Salad and Wasted Sarcasm-

The Horse with the Grey/Blue Eyes-

Give and Take- Foot And Mouth-

Does this Compute?-Kill the Boss-

Deborah -Brighton Witch Trials

Names have been changed to protect the marginally innocent

This is called Run in's and Misunderstandings, some are Run In's some are total Misunderstandings- a few are a mixture of both

Steps Must be Taken

I must take steps

To the Bressamer beam overhead

And hang myself dead

Yes

Steps must be taken

I will kidnap them all,

Eventhe pointless blonde one, who I am told is now appearing in

"Jack and the Beanstalk" at a theatre near you:

A man who no-one knows in a band that no longer exists in a production that no-one cares for in a town that no-one gives a flying fuck at a rolling donut about

Yes,

Steps must be taken

I will also take the Dark haired girl

But only because I am a pervert

And would like to poke her with wooden spoons

spank her with a spatula

and prod her with a pestle and mortar

I must take steps

And wrap them around my assistants stupid head

And then walk up and down them

While she orders me bagels with the red telephone cord wrapped around her wrinkly turkey skin neck as she gobbles up my post it notes

I will take steps

Goose steps

March up and down the retirement seafront

Just to rile the old fuckers up out of their lethargy and incontinence

give them a sense of initiative to relive 'the good old days'

All the better then If I dress up as Hitler and let them chase me in their mobility cars at 5mph

I am not a Nazi

I am just bored

I need the adrenaline rush of the badly behaved

I am bored with being nice

Hacked off with Loveliness

And swallowing my own venom like a rattlesnake with a hangover

Just fucking ticks me off,

I want to take steps

And climb up your legs

And ride you like a ghostrain

Woooo woooo wooooo

I must take Steps

And reel in my unfounded boredom and misplaced activities

Writing poetry with a razor on the wall

Bathing in asses milk like a demi goddess of the underworld

And now I see the eyes of my unborn daughter

Which

Freaks

Right

Out

People affect me more than they should

That's not good

My foundations were wobbly to begin with

And now my tower has been totally shaken

I admit i'm happy and can't control my emotions

There is nothing else for it:

Steps Must be Taken.

Comments: This is probably in the wrong page- I might move it. It should be in the lightning post but then its a vent and i'm not to be trifled with today. I'm in a particularly *nasty/rude/pedantic/revelatory/happy/confused/elated mood

*delete as applicable every five minutes

Bored Now

Ha ha. That was funny

You do have a way,

Of not following through

With one word that you say

I'm Bored Now

Its over,

Come back when you're clever,

Come back when you're tactful

(So then, that'll be never)

If i'm offended, that's funny, as it's just what you do!

But i'm better at it doll- Shall I prove it to you?

You're arrogant lazy, pig headed and blunt,

Obnoxious, supercillious

'A bit of a cunt'

(And not the good part- man's prediliction for affections)

I wouldn't give you the time

Nor give you directions

If your mind were a map- it would only be blank

If you were a word- it would only be wank

If you were a cake- it would only taste rank

If you were a merchant- you'd own your own bank

Maybe it's clear, I'm Bored Now its boring

Should I put on pajamas yet? When should I start snoring?

Shall I tell you you bore me? Shall I tell you my thoughts?

If you were a disease

You'd be genital warts

If you were a sickness

I guess you'd be cancer

Are you getting the message?

You don't have to answer

You don't have to speak

You don't have to breathe

You don't have to live

You just have to leave

Exit- Fuck off- Go Away- Flee

I'm Bored Now

You're Boring

One- Nil

To Me.

Comments: Bored Now. I wrote this for someone who just gets on my tits with his random fluctuation between not speaking to me/being in love with me/not liking me/insulting me/being nice to me/phoning/not phoning/texting/not texting/emailing/not emailing and on and on and on and on- this has been going on for months and months. Bored Now.

Funny how men get it so fucking wrong all the fucking time.

That applies to all of you- sort-your-fucking-life-out

Fruit Salad and Wasted Sarcasm.

“I’m mixed race,” she says nonchalantly over her fruit salad.

It’s warm outside, today the sun is trying to climb over the pinnacle of some Strato Cumulus and having marginal success, still it’s not fruit salad weather, but she’s young and impressionable; the excitable type who bring out their halter necked sun tops on a half-arsed day of white sunshine in mid March. The wind is blowing, it’s deceptive, I should be indoors with soup but nnoo, she is the new girl, today, is her day.

Tomorrow though…I take over the world and she will be lining up against the wall blindfolded.

But that’s then; this is now.

“My great great grandmother was half Dutch, well she lived there for a while, her grandmothers mother was Irish and her great grandfather father was from Scotland.”

(If she’s mixed race, then I’m a fucking Monkey.)

Now there’s a thought….

“ Really? I’m mixed race too,” I say suddenly in all seriousness trying not to swallow my own tongue

“Yeah, my great great great great great (insert few more ‘greats’, however many you can be bothered with) …great great grandmother was from Borneo. She had red hair, funny looking, face like an inner tube, and really long arms.”

I immediately shove some pineapple into my mouth just to force me to stop talking.

The seat we’re sitting on is made of concrete, my legs are cold, the wind is blowing up my top and I’m not in the mood for fruit fucking salad.

“Well you’ve got a bit of red in your hair” She says “And I didn’t want to say this, but your arms are kinda long. You’re not funny looking though, you’re actually kinda pretty”

(This is backfiring- plus she keeps saying “kinda” – something either is or isn’t- it’s not kinda anything, I’ve either got freakishly long arms or normal arms, I’m either pretty or I’m not, maybe that’s a bit black and white, anyway, she’s pushed my buttons – now she’s for it)

“But on my other side,” I continue, (in my head I’m already rubbing my hands around each other, narrowing my eyes and cackling profusely) “My great great great (repeat x 10) grandfather lived at sea. (Oh God this is painful) he liked swimming, eventually he gave up the sea and found dry land, then he learned how to walk and lived in a cave, he was a great artist, funny he turned into an arsonist, liked fire, I don’t suppose anyone saw that coming, anyway then he travelled across Pangier, it was getting a bit cold by then and finally his offspring lived in Europe, settled somewhere warm.”

She ‘s not listening.

Wasted sarcasm is like having a passing stranger stick red-hot pokers in your eyes, after asking them to do it, if they wouldn’t mind that is, and maybe while they were at it, could they also steal all of your money, run over your mother and set fire to your house and all of your possessions? Hmph… wasted sarcasm.

“ Do you want my banana?” She asks innocently.

I am looking forward to tomorrow already.

Comments: Walked straight into that one didn't I?

The Horse with the Grey/Blue Eyes

White diamond forehead

Chewing a carrot crunching like footsteps across a pebbly beach

Midnight in your eyes

Pink snuffled gums

And hooves like giant white porcelain saucers
She brushes his coat distractedly
He moves.
He doesn’t want it.

He just wants to eat his carrots

He’s old-Just wants a quiet life

“Stay still YOU CUNT!” She screams.

She called him a cunt. You can’t call a horse a cunt.

You just can’t.

Now...

she has my attention...

Head in the bucket- another carrot

Yum Yum, he says, I do love my carrots

“ I SAID fucking stay STILL”

She kicks him.

Once, twice, three four on five I have dropped my brushes

On six she is down and clutching her nose scrambling for cover

I hold a carrot out in my wet palm, he doesn’t seem to care

Yum Yum I do love my carrots he says

I brush his coat, stroke my red hand

Through his beautiful silver hair.

Comments: I was working at a zoo painting a mural in the Tiger House a few years back- I used to walk round the part that was out of bounds to visitors by routine, past the penguin enclosure, round the lion house, chuck some fruit to the monkeys and finally go and see the horses to say good morning. After this happened I couldn’t paint for two days. The things I saw there still bothers me.

Give and Take

You put the F in Fucker

Put the Ex in Hex
You took the Pea out of my vegetables

You took the Sex from Sussex,

You took the cap from fitting

You put the P in Rick

You took the O from Counting

You put the Dip in Dipstick,

You took the D from Danger

And replaced it with a noun

You stole the F in Fun and now it’s Un

With no fuck in fun around,

You give the C word meaning

You’re the second T in It

You give Off it’s lead- oh yes indeed

With an S love you’re a Hit...

Comments: It’s all give and take, give a lot receive a little complain loudly when it all goes tits up. Its all comes up roses eventually, you just have to wade through a billion tons of horse shit first. I was thinking of a brilliant man when I wrote this, John Cooper Clark, I salute you. Big P.S I didn't write this specifically about one person in case you were wondering...

Foot And Mouth

I said things now with hindsight I regret

It's left me with the feeling that to lie, is a desirable trait;

A formidable web of deceit is the epitome of human nature

Maybe that makes me inhumane?

Inhuman and Uncompromising?

Possible

But then again

If I didn't stick my foot in my mouth as often as I do

You'd never get the opportunity

for me to expose myself,

and I'd never get the chance for you

to kiss my arse

sunshine.

Comments:

Lie and manipulate. Be honest at your own peril. It pays not to wear your heart on your sleeve.

Does this Compute?
Maths joke equals infinite fuck

Sussex Boy who's out of luck

Thinking you could steal my soul

I've left yours with a gaping hole

Made your mark

Wrecked my life

Fucked his manky rotten wife

Filled me with your ill repute

I know your truth

Does this compute?

Comments:

Bastard.

Kill the Boss

Sitting here thinking of killing you...
Maybe electrocution would work
I sure do hate my job,
My boss is a knob
He's a pompous and arrogant berk

I could slam your fat head in the copier
And print off a page at a time,
Your nose squashed to the glass
With my boot up your arse
As I run from the scene of the crime

You are really begining to drain me,
I should staple your thumbs to your head,
There'll be blood up the walls
As I stamp on your balls
If you touch my tits mister,

you're dead.

Deborah

Deborah left her husband

And all her friends behind
For some wothless prick

With half a dick

Are you stupid bitch?

Or blind?

Comments
My boyfriend to be precise. Class.

Brighton Witch Trials

Over my screen I cannot escape her
I pretend to ignore her by reading the paper
This woman, my colleague, I must introduce
Before I start my dissection and random abuse

Her name is Lynn but it should be Dementia
Her desk is no-mans land where no human must venture
And something about her... well let me just mention
Her appearance and purpose breaks human convention

Her desk is a minefield of photos and junk
She talks likes she's permanently swallowing spunk
And her screeching the mindlessness finds me aghast

For what comes out of her mouth, mostly comes out of my arse

Today moans of ailments- her up the spout plumbing
Her piles and her weeping sores from far too much bumming
And the scabs and the eczema they just keep on coming
And when she starts scratching you want to start running

Maybe I’m hasty in this put-down-the-hag
But I’m sick of the day in and day out old nag
And really if I’m honest she's a demented old slag
A satchel faced cow and whining old bag

So now you must see the intolerance I’m facing
With her tea and my arsenic and it's slow interlacing
And I’m faced for the outcome-

I consider it my quest
I'll bump the witch off and then dance on her desk.

Comments:

This is a real person I used to have to tolerate every god forsaken day. I should say she's alright really, but she's not- she's a dangerous old trout with the mental capacity of an apricot who must be destroyed

Hate to disappoint you all but i'm not giving away any names!

If you know me then, yes you know her too!