Marjorie Razorblade

Run-ins and Misunderstandings

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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
Me
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.
 
 
(c) Marjorie Razorblade 2007
 
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.
 
(c) Marjorie Razorblade 2007
 
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.

 

(C) Marjorie Razorblade 2007

 

 

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.


 

(c) Marjorie Razorblade


 

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.
 

 

blackhorse.jpg


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...


 

Marjorie Razorblade 2007

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.
x

 
(c) Marjorie Razorblade


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?
 
 
(c) Marjorie Razorblade
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.


 
(c) Marjorie Razorblade

 

 
Deborah
Deborah left her husband
And all her friends behind
For some wothless prick
With half a dick
Are you stupid bitch?
Or blind?

 
(c) Marjorie Razorblade


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.

 
(c) Marjorie Razorblade


 
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!