07/07/2014 - YOU'RE ABOUT AS FUNNY AS A COAL MINER

You’re about as funny as a coal miner with that material, with your long auburn hair and pretentious speeds. From their tower, they become seagulls to phantom the inseparable from the delightful. When the world loses all control over its children’s cartoon theme songs, the heart will wrack with Belgium angst. Rocks descend like teenagers on a flagpole, knowing that patrols will come along eventually to power the electricity function with little more than a mead-tasting bite.

Follow the animals that charge green with deadened activity and hurricane logarithms. Your taste in music comes from that special place between your clavicles and undescended testicles. The disciples are leeching off my skin for the fifth time in a month, inch by kilometre we find places to go round the destiny in a dried-up overcoat that putters into scientific louts and all sprung loose with licked lips and lisps. Here I come to gut your misdirection for all its political subterfuge, all its recognisable fleets of interesting hinterland. Warty toads are among the littlest pests of the season, twitchy things that dispel several myths for the sake of rationalism and trained scepticism. Shake the lout with a pervasive purr and a hammer to the nose. The wrong way to go about it would be to take a hunting knife and plant it into the hurricane with seconds to spare, you need to take your time with that kind of multi-tasking. The royal family hold some retainers for a few lockers crammed full with recreation and detergent insurgent remarks. Let’s demystify the drill for once, let’s lay it at the feet of the cobbler and all his elves.

TONIGHT IS A MAGIC FILLED WITH WILD GEESE AND ROCK MUSIC FROM AN ENTIRE TIME PASSED TO THE PASTY PAST SO THAT WE MAY LOOK AT IT FROM THE MIRROR WITH ENOUGH EXHAUSTION TO INFLATE SEVERAL BALLOONS FROM HAIR DYE DEFICIENCY; THE PUBLIC, THEY REALLY CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF GUFF LIKE THAT, IT’S SEXY AND REALLY RELATES TO A PATERNAL NATURE IN ALL OUR BASIC CHARACTERISTICS, ALL OUR MILD MAKE-UPS. am i write in supposing that norm and his values are getting quite enough sex from the edge of geography as spared from the deadly pits of west margate filled with all the grit of town planners past their sell by date or will justice be done with extreme prejudice and a man who knows every other man’s name and trade and shoe size dependent on the speed at which that man is running.

The Girls Are All Done With Their English Lessons Because Knitting Is So Blasé And Mother Expects Them To Readdress Their Screwing Around With Beginning And End As Hardest Expected As The Will-Wearing, Woe-Begotten Barry That Each Battlement Must Scorn For Sufficient Payment And Kick Backs Too. damN importanT stufF yoU chapS dO, aS odD aS goD planS hiS starvinG tacticS buT withouT alL the cheekinesS and cheeK bitinG froM thE toP tO thE bottoM of inspectoR arresT recordS thaT yoU brinG througH usuallY.

06/06/2014 - FUCKING WENT ON

            Fucking went on on the other side. The bacon fat couldn't take the lubrication, it had no preference outside of gravitational attraction. You always wondered why you left behind the rope butt buckle that everyone wants to smash into but not very many people could ever actually achieve. Looking good in clothes is an interior function of fucking mostly because skinny pictures of perfect beard-trimming and accidentally amputated tunnel vision. This is a second of all change, this is an exchange that loops for weeks until you freeze cut like a fish in Icelandic water. You smelt lovely once long ago because he rubber at the end of the pencil brought out the colour of your economical irises. Shadow broke the brick koala mankind has been building since last Tuesday but everything's okay, it can be sorted back from the checkpoints, stitched back into a whole hash tag.

            Mentholated iguanas that single down the opening of most bracelet outlets thereby channelling arsehole statuses with Anglicised renown nouns. Become a bratty fisherman with donkey kicks. Nice dealing, dealers, all you going round and around and aground, timber. Push some rocks aside for the sake of easy honour, be underwhelming great friends. Have reaction to your excessive looking be stumped by riddle rice. Know that my design is a multiplying decision that wraps itself in hermetic bandages. Double your doublet everyday that comes right back to George through various tubes and drainpipes. What the hell happens, guardian of the tantrum? Say all right to well enough with killer humanism and its big strongman Grace. It's better because they're all on a gradient. I have altered my doofus into an ignoramus through the kid element of articulation. Try your hardest to fuck around with fucking and yelling at trooper doom. This is a savour, a saviour with shutters on either side of his soul patch. Three of them are coming to the principal's office to let the headmaster know they've changed his door again.

            I did not call you a germy hour, telling dishwater to clutch on with mathematical brilliance. This is a chow down with signs of exterior suggestibility. Can you reach explosion point for Wright and George and their leaking car batteries. Copycat. Stegosaurus. Waiting. With. Spikes. In. His Hair. It feels like a massive mash, a corny apple working down the percentages with resultant contentedness. Wouldn't it be weird to spit goo with total accuracy? Rip that off your cartoon hound and see what hair gets into the empty socket. That's who we are, a stopper of the buck and a friendship that fades into a relationship latency that finds out about OPERATIC AMERICA. This is only a sample of the intermediary as it tries to go down in lags and glitches. Unite the slow makers, start the fucking so that we can all just get to the key chains. As of now, the germy hour begins and that means the alternative of all we know will blink straight of nowhere. Be very ready.  

05/06/2014 - THE VISCERAL PEDESTRIAN

The visceral pedestrian keeps his tools whirring real good. You like the name of the second best control in this enforcement program while the shouting bombs go off. You stymie me with disgraceful limey life that screws while it adds up to a slimy wall conclusion filled with steamy apologies and herded elderberries. On your tootsies, on your bucket winkers. It was my general’s machinery, his phallic wound with other options and calm demeanour to tie up all loose, inexperienced ends. That’s not why I memorise the trauma, it just shows and grows and shows the growth with minimal health. As of now the red shoes make for brilliant rubble decoration, as of now the citywide flashing contest will put the horns on its judges and the thumping good soundtrack of heavenly thought process. Try to forget me, little cheeks, try to measure the hay with your hand. Can we just talk about this for once? The rescue?

            Don’t you ever touch the whole life story of fixed points as seen on the torso’s of last men standing who make themselves clear for takeoff. Say good and better and leaden hoofs will guide the way in prison garments while blue drifts tap into brotherly memories. When Yancy Street was taken over by the Mean Old Mods, someone else had to pat down my perm causing me to connect with the captivating Chinese girl with her framed heart and Christmas lights. I haven’t seen such cup movement in a long time and I doubt I shall again, the dilations alone cost a small fortune. We have every single civilian breathing down the coastline to only engage final options for the gypsy folk and their endless medallions. I strike the ball, it rolls, awaits my orders and then cannot afford size or weight and so suddenly stops transportation. Bookmarks right between the eyes, centred like a beacon.

            March with the Hannibal tooth expressively by the time, to the space of memory as secondary brains cack fertiliser all over the mundane fields. This is the little fellow’s deal of funning, the undone moron in a box technique. And technique remains everything to the management who be, tails flipping and circling the thundercloud with extra arms and only one or two external appendages. You throw the water about you for a little while then Mr Thank comes out to light up your blade with Russian delights and multicoloured multicultural engagement. Do you copy? Do you groan beneath the cash machine? We’re moving as one in one big business suit, chartered accountant lapels. Hear the bed sheets coming away with compromise. The weirdo knows all about jumping all over the place to make ends meet while that novel remains in the reactor of your back pocket trying to bum a few cigarettes from a make-believe shuttle of human error or whatever it is that your husband calls himself in the dark of twiggy moonlight. This is a throw down of chest plate aeronautics, this is an electromagnetic pulse to the scrotum.

04/06/2014 - THE SCRAPER LEADS THE CAVES

The Scraper leads the caves in ‘good cop, bad cop’ formation. Interesting work. Pretty women in angry Italian dresses infest the corners the caves in question and don’t even find the common courtesy to find the elevator doors at the end of the archaeological dig. This could be the find of the century, the devil with puffed up cheeks and a cool accent. His wife had a good time in the killer’s den, she sailed his yacht and even got into law school. Sixty eight straight convictions without plea bargain. One day the timer drops the mathematician, the next the geography teacher with treacherous prejudice. Shotguns were not involved. I love to seal lips with secrets from Florida’s rutting pool. If you walk with me, you walk with fiery footsteps right off of the top of the Scraper’s mighty head. Some people can’t handle defying sentiment exactly; filling in resumes tends to be as far as most people can manage. Dodgy Southern accents are quite different to the downwards slope. Are you a preacher’s daughter working at a poultry stick factory. Lots of potential clients in negotiation with their own contracts.

Our crudity ends with tyres and begins with talent focused via squeezing and stitching on deadlines. Can you sleep at night with glass on your fifth avenue? Can you mount a policeman with an expose lurking around with bulky children. Of course the fraternity ends with curly living across the hall. Nobody told the mistress about the apartments she would have to frequent just to make ends meet. Be careful just how you get lost in palettes. There aren’t many impressions to make when you’re a millionaire with six year’s worth of frugal lying under your five dollar belt. Are you really this good at being a Mary? I’m only getting behind on my bills and shore leave. Scrounge around, repossess, imamate all you like and know just how much I love you in media. You are in charge of mergers and acquisition of intellectual properties according to whole team units. It would be so nice to meet you while you’re extraditing post hoc cases with NYPD terrorists. The pet goat makes me laugh.

It’s a test, right? The Scraper makes eighteenth century car salesman an impossibility because locking that shit down would be too mild for most casual observers. Your dogs may whimper but I alone own the basement for my crocodile boots and shoes and all the candles that make pretend they’re voodoo through their mood lighting. I do not like fishing or lawyering or spiritual currency. The midriff silences racial health against Monsieur GreenPaint, the very complexion of The Scraper. That’s all of it, all the Caribbean over the walls. I’m just trying to help legal documentation say goodnight to the simple people and their bright white t-shirts filled with alky wine glasses. Float around for a while, drift but do not settle at the condo. His side, my side, her side – all exaggerated appointments of cross handling, thanks to that pet goat I mentioned.

03/06/2014 - PARENT SUPPORT NO, NO, NO

            Parental support no, no, no. The dog is choked by the moments that choke human's up and it's up to you, good sir/madam, to save its little tail from expiring. I smell a celebrity cameo! It smells like smoky bacon crisps that have been left on a sidewalk in America, in some undisclosed town in a lazy indie movie that focuses mostly on the scene transitions. This is not a good way to start off  a relationship with oneself, one's own shadow three weeks from now. Graft it from the back of the stairs and prop it up beside you and there you have it - oneself. Or rather one self, singular. Does it depress you to know that the police have your shadow in lockdown? Your shadow has done quite a few naughty things in its time of separation, it's campaigned for many righteous activist groups. I'm not going to tell you which because I'm a petty agent of justice out for my own end.

            Need like a reed or an on-call ward. You put up with so much and ask for so little simply because father was considerably more Scottish than uncle while he was reading his pint of whiskey in case the lines blinked and bubbled. Don't let those suds step out of line or your son of a bitch ass is fried. There goes the American film industry again, the indie films are marrying the popular ones. Babies will follow with long noses and toes and thumbs that stick out in sore ways. Poor gentlemen are currently residing in my basket case until further notice, until movements stop and the sensitivity forces its way into the holy books. The manuals will take that shit better anyway because the police are encouraged to enforce it. This is the fiftieth anniversary of Uranus going balmy for the Islamic holidays.

            Also tonight: belligerent word leaders will resort to humble slapping to combat their mutual melanomas and beard abstractions. Fit me with a camera and call me lucid! Speaking of which, the whithersoever is the sound a songbird makes when its overcome by ambivalence in a galleria. Special correspondents are paging doctors and doctors are paging orthopaedic surgeons. Unfortunately they are all on the monkey bars in the local park, trying to sink their teeth into the plastic covering the metal alloy. The tears you see in the next wink of daylight shall be like industrial drills on the bicuspid.

            So say hey, hey, hey, hey, hey to all female police officers in case the next one comes along and wears the cufflinks across their altered bows. This is the decision-making while this is the king-making. You can go forth by skill alone now, diligence and groovy looks are just a hamper in basket cases much like my own. I will bury the damn thing in the Dead Sea along with the ashes of Pocahontas and her one-time lover Neil, the contact lens dealer. He has resentment for the salvage crew.

02/06/2014 - I FORGOT ABOUT THE ROUGE SEWAGE

I forgot about the rouge sewage, I REFUSE TO PLAY UP TO THE WEAK TEA SOME GUY. Climbing GLITCHES makes me like everyone so DON’T FEEL special. I’m serious. Queef vengeance, that’s what I’ve been told to say just so YOU CAN MAKE TENNIS BALLS. I didn’t see, I like PRESIDENTS as interpreted by the movies and the letter YES.  Tell me where you’re going, where you plan to go and how diagonal, along which wall, with which code. Avant-garde music SQUARED. Motherfucker avast! I’m heaving a fever dream because the lacked fox told me to be fucking awesome BUT NOT ON THE FAST FOOD RESTAURANT.

How we flesh, how we Ebola, how grounds, how grinds, paper hats with different levels and glacial tiers. The numb portal on the hocked-up computer. Ergo cute separation as heard by beef sinks. This is another glitch on the pop record with silly step stools. I THINK THE BIGGEST ONE WAS A STARK CONTRAST TO LEGS BEING RAISED BY NEW PEOPLE ON GLOWING NETWORKS WITHOUT NEVER HAVING TO HEAVE VIRALITY ONTO CHEAP CHEEPS. It has not been twenty years since the snores became hereditary and filled with remorse from an egg cup without company time or buzz words to be kicked around. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ERASMUS? DOES HE HAVE A STANDARD? He has nothing on Cerberus, all he has is strong words with minimum connectivity. Make me a friend for nothing.

Never again woks. Skies filled with closed calls and bought-out wooden stocks. This is seventeen percent of most basketball games without sorry cisterns. You know what worries me about the writing? The broker slips a chin right on a café place window, not the one you were thinking of last aspect. Buttering down the hallways with corridor high fives, YOU FEEL WELCOMED.

                                                                        Come forth now and help thy daughter like a revolution that your affairs had at some point because they were SICK AND TIRED OF castanets in the blind man's bluff. The dog scratches its tail and the cat molests the mouse before chucking its measly chin. No whiskers involved, that kind of dope requires a statement and some MONETARY BOLSTERING. You stopped with your envelope tearing and it got you all the way down the line of kings so you'll move onto the queens, that's inevitable and charitable like a drunk choirboy slamming videogames for violence. SOME might say you're a saviour in yellow, a hovering halo with a hoover under your jacket.

                But we've had it up to here with you, up along there like a mantelpiece barrister who's only just discovered that the vouchers he kept in his back pocket have an eye for the delights of disco and ghetto music just brings them down, down, dooby-doo. In five minutes, tomorrow will be HERE AS A WRACK, AS A JUGULAR that stands up all by itself to make espionage difficult so much so that walking in puddles is a preferable career choice when in fact it is a killer. 

01/06/2014 - IF A WORSHIP

            If a worship could be nicer, my hands would be trembling with smuggler kisses and sir and madam would actually eventually definitely be found. The lords are admirals here and admirable in that wry way in which they dress seen from the rebel ship. The force is as stern as assets in death, as the chuckling lunge would and might happen. Eat with a mud hut and you become the new settle. Patience and height: the boy has neither. Was I any different from readymade trading while I was right there, a serious chap in a good looker's business? I wasn't, no. You won't fail me again for fear and other purposes too tangy to leave and put forth on the tabletop.

            React accordingly to the cave and the shadows it contains because the light won't always leads you outdoors where its safe. But wait a minute, there's more. There's always more, winged with freshness and on the committee as a balanced member with big red tape to establish who they are to the users on your back. Your body must become an auditorium for muesli and a comfy set of space seats for space age flying vehicles. Stay with me on the island, whistling like a little green git like me. My ears are pinned back as ever. All trajectories alerted and high on their own produce, sums and other malleable stuff o' nonsense. Surrender and switch to lightspeed for any ideas and shines from cardsharps and other duplicitous, long-sighted calls to detachment.

            You dream while I beckon the earthly ridicules and she won't even latch on to the hydraulics until 2098. For as long as we've all known each other, the sunshine hasn't bothered to prove any one constituent wrong in his or her delivery of scissor-based puns. The yoghurt falls like sick from a dearth-minder's mouth, lips remaining sullen and retracted by newspaper moguls trying to cover their backs before the police catch on to the army's involvement. Some might say that berries can be plucked for cereal in the morning but we live in the choked suburbs so, for all our wise earnings, we cannot quite be as free as the birds. The oven has farthings to spill and laundry detergent to soak them in.

            It's a proviso, you know, this fence-sitting game of invention; it's a big spoon striking the back of a long donkey with the hump of a camel. In short we're lightly battering deformation because that's precisely what mother told us to do when father was on the sauce again and reading from all the holy books with wide-eyed buttering of syllables. We have to create before the direct-to-videos come flooding out from the balustrades, from between them. We don't mind doing it and we certainly shouldn't insofar as our cousins in New Zealand have no problems with moss, eldritch or otherwise. Turning on a dime, on a penny, on a placard, on a Derry Dada while the rest of the world is being useless at a horse show.