26/09/2013 - KILL IT DAD

Kill it Dad, how you love it. You made Ma old before her time with all kinds of Mexican trappings and quadruple bypass surgery that really wasn't ever needed or called for. I have the spatula ready for the informal gathering of streak molesters, I'll scoop those mo-fos up and smash them with their own macho crowns. It's business, like. The Scary Mary's have me under contract and are wielding the damn thing like a recently scrubbed scroll. All kinds of weird peeling flesh passes me during working hours and I wouldn't wish it on anyone with even half of my charisma. I'm never going to say otherwise, present company excluded.

                Yes, you go stand by the window, Little Sister. You've been here since the very beginning, begging from the cats of the neighbourhood for the scraps of caps and the claps they tend to get from available prize fighters. Their art is dead but dear to me, in the prospect of its return. How the coke and coal come forth to declare righti'mgoingright. They thrive on gypsum so whoever supplies it should suppose that their eyewear is in need of a fresh mould and perhaps a quick dissolve or two. Wakeupyouwankerbankingexecutive, the coal says to the coke, yourmissusisvitrifyingbecomingtwistingandbecomingohboyandstuff. Anyone would think that the donors had all come out to play and that no-one was ready for scythe-wielding Ague. The walls are filling with petrol and yes, that pump is there because of you Sister. I have PMS.

                Sorties are happening all over the kitchen table, political espionage steers all the flying fucks so that they maintain altitude and never once frolic on landing. I am essential to the completion of this erstwhile, hitherto process and my weapon of choice is a pair of socks from some other beer-guzzling bloke. You might have seen him, he's about thrifty feet high and drinks water for Christ's sake, which is to say he drinks the water in the name of our lord and saviour. The dude with the beard and the abs. Too much charm methinks.

                While you're here and just standing around, I'd like to introduce you to Michelle, Ambrosia, Philippe, NATO, Quasimodo, Salamander, Dialect, Fortitude, Perdition, Placidity, General Plastics, Not Good, Piracy Claims, Extrapolation, Interpol, Brontosaurus, Manky, Sue, Dollop, Misogyny, Half an Hour, Pouter and their varying entourage. Don't you worry if you don't get their faces the first time, they are essentially the same individual, the same figurehead I keep falling in love with whenever I walk into a timeless room. It's a deliberate fact that the Whiny Terrapin is messing flagrantly with my life via spinning wheelie bins and dog physiotherapy. It couldn't happen at a better time in my line of thinking of work that I should possibly but not absolutely be doing. It's worth a sigh or two then whatever you want. I'll stick my hand in my pants and gratify myself until Monday at 10pm. You might be able to watch the events on demand.