04/04/2014 - ASK THE NOISE OF A SAINT

Ask the noise of a saint, as a saint, for a saint. It is your saintly duty to walk out on angry children who lie about £500 and $500 as if the two were never interchangeable. Empowerment will buy grease for the hibiscus extract to make cheese within the swollen belly of television sets. Superficial seconds come to a grinding halt. Live more for the sake of satellites on grass with answers on the spot. Beautiful, peaceful tarmac. The letters on the letterhead, get ready for their battle stations. Use and abuse. Give a little nod to the man in the whirling jacket as he passes through your lawnmower to eat all the pasta. I’m flattered but really not okay.

1. Stick around for the big businessman who will thread bobbins for our entertainment and partial education. Don’t take a stance before your time is due, not while the spiritual, contemplative music remains on the airwaves like a bad case of the clap. Camera 3 wants to stab you right through the middle to prove a just point to a moot audience whilst draped in an ill-fitting pair of boxers. They are ready for us to droop from the journey and raise the hayfield in the name of heart displacement. Staying power needs a funny article of clothing to prove its existence ahead of takeout and subsequently takeaway. I’m a dead man for the showers. He knew, he knew all along. He knew all about non-stop shopping like it was written on the back of my heartfelt hand. The enemy aims his telescope.
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4. This is the G-spot for apology, this is continuance of nuance and happiness brings back the shaded worldwide security. The red-faced woman is gifted like a shank to the hosiery, like a shard of glass to the shark-infested filling. Go out like another person and you come back a saint, it’s guaranteed. They say it like just a bit ago would say it to you; the right thing is costly and green without spots and sparks of neglect. Can you get a shot from a kiss from a scented envelope? Shall we love the aubergine better? The endstop is dirty and racing to get to you so what we should really do is deal with the studio like one would a headphone or a peachy keen countenance. The craze is being chased by you this time, so wait a go in the storeroom cupboard as love tears the party in twos and threes that comeback, always comeback. Promise that goodbye isn’t a cloying of cloister bells being blessed in imminent flush. Question not those whom belong to your country but those who have no country for they are the mincers of sundown and the cast learning to double themselves up.
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7. Paragraphs train to kill from childhood and bark like a dog due to hypnotic breathing patterns. Here, turnstiles become a commodity and the wealthy are disenfranchised from the millions upon millions of star charts that would normally be available to them scot-free. Angels.

03/04/2014 - SO VERY MEAN, SO VERY HEAVY

            So very mean, so very heavy, so must we be. The cup has dithered long enough and now is the time to rise up in pinkish shirts to slay the Cowboys and Indians action figures and their racist connotations. The era of hombres has begun - saddle up, pardner. This the new speed of the CD, it's the hype that has its own immortal barcode. All the women in this vicinity have taken up masturbation as soon as my last breath. This was not my doing, obviously. This was the hereditary encapsulation of the alienated spirit taking effect in drastic coin-tossing mannerisms. It all really depends. It all cannot help but be cannon fodder for the purgatory of being thrown head and ankle first out of the window. If you see anything suspicious just move on and wish me well in all my future conquests of mind, body and sometimes spirit.

                                                            How very transparent of you, how very translucent of you, how very opaque of you: these are your choices. Feed them to your rush hour grundle, call up all major broadcasting networks to express the mess that your heart has just been lain into. Gesticulate with gigawatts and come off the boil before the superintendent sees your there and always have been. The watch are tanning at the end of the month, get your ambitious third series out of the way then. Bodyguards are nowhere near as Oswald. This means the seeds are devastating not even of British Secret Intelligence - how on earth can we trust the phrase 'Ta-Dah'? So ultra and yet without distinctive healing powers. At least it has the right fingers to work the control box.

                                                                        The burial ceremony will commence at nineteen thirty. The Yorkshire police, Yorkshire's Finest, will execute finesse like cheese cutting through wire. The killers will have to check their contracts and bleed on the dotted line before the keyboard juice stops hanging on with hellish butt. Sororities and fraternities will march the barricade and tamper with all the bus shelter seats just to screw with the bashful populism excited by all the lesbian titillation. Guardians of Flat Pack meet the Fiercest Laundry to make a classic piece of children's literature come alive again in ways that the author never formerly believed were possible. Imaginations are limited by the fear of order, the strictness of elucidation without hallucination. Time will tell the fruit machine.

            Who feels like anything from the salad bar? Who art thou to speak of me in this way? You're a spring-load trap is all you are. The curdled smash of happy records being sent forth into the knifeman's stronghold as an expression of disbelief. The moments are as morose as a shit grin. On the night that we are drunk, we shall see revelations transpire and arouse the penetration of healthy nineteen thirty right in the buxom configuration. The humanity it will lose will be staggering but the scissor kicks and urinary tract infections will surpass mortal teaching.

02/04/2014 - I AIN'T NO HAUNT

I ain’t no haunt for the salubrious cherry picker, I do my business in the forest and make sure it’s an honest trade filled with creamy bits and salty handles. I’m the sort of guy who’s in a position to make your life very happy provided that you remain righteous while you stand don’t flick your hair or saw your hand thus whilst we’re in bed together. Yes, we are in bed together and shall be until the end of my singing career. I’ve just gone platinum, baby.

These and other unknowable powers are mine to command, mine to master over the course of eleven masterclasses held by saucy minxes and their inherent dislike of canned tomatoes and their pointy sticks and laser pointers that go everywhere else that the sticks can’t. Sexual harassment lawsuit. The average slow dance can be perfectly tame but then the musical will get stuck on replay and the recordings will wind your bodies entwined with archaic tape until such a time as buttplay happens. All the imaginary friends of the last century, at least all the prominent ones, will come forward and tie down the research and development department until a connection has been made to sweet manufacture and merchandise. Contrary to popular belief, this would not please me in the slightest. My stock shares would plummet and the corsair will reclaim my doubloons and set sail for my privatised hospital pantry. He’s a bit of an urban legend around these parts but he can hold his own in the court of law. You saw correctly.

A knife in the leg can be quite the breakfast treat, continental and loathsome like a diamond worn on the lobe of a needle muncher and his divine practices of monetary magicks. This is crunch time people, the little ones will be put to bed and the rest of us shall shit-can their asses until the American payload finally drops and puts our English sensibilities out of their constant misery. I know I’m ready to lose every aspect of my identity just to seem cool. Did you pack your lunch correctly? It has to be in sequence, remember. They set tests just so they can scratch their beards and look at us like stationary oboes and obese kitchenettes that suddenly regurgitate right on voluminous parquet. I’ll remember ya, you and yer until the uppercut comes flying in via the post. That will see the end of my hip support, that will.

The girl with the cheekbones and face that could scorn a man’s big toes is coming out to get me. She wants to take me to some sort of god awful nightclub just to see how sorrowfully I strut my stuff. I’m forced to intuit that there are shutters being lowered as we speak. The psychiatry will heat up and that will be us gone on to plainer sunsets. The rays will take us by storm, tape us down to the tattoo parlour and make us throw cardboard boxes at passers-by. My mouth!

01/04/2014 - HARDLY PREPOSESSING IS JEALOUSY

Hardly prepossessing is jealousy. It’s more of a stylish trimming of the hair and a bent over chair covered in a pomade of lotion. Seduction does little for such a visage as that guy’s over there. You see how he fills the bar stool? You see how he BADUM BADUMS like fire has caught him right between the eyebrows. What can man require more than pretty churlishness? How often we should rest with the desirous profundity of the rhombus! How many purposes! So much purpose! Oh my. Who is intended for this warship outside of petty chancery? Oh, Mike. Yeah, I know Mike. He trampled me once back in my bay window days, those cheerful fractional days of light breathing and moderately attractive women with their bosoms heaving and their vanishing points too broad for correction in lateritious conversation. She shall have the excellence that cannot be heard or primped by the action hero in his action vest and floods of orange, angry skies. Merry moods do so much for our brisk community like a comb for our sooty treatise. We go round with the oven at our backs and the flank to the right, always to the right. It’s how we get our kicks and kickbacks.

We usually stop at November and bring it on back around to the airport before the big bosses get their noses all up in our muss and muzzle because then usually the gals come out from the woodwork and demand their civil checks and rows upon rows of amber glass monuments. The tractor creaks and tells tales of automatic doors which make the strong among us whimper until the units have been bathed and sufficiently filled with old bargain games. This is what’s usual, usually. The unusual storm comes into town only once in a blue moon and those make for very particular measurements of idyllist curtness. The brass band shall have none of mine, at least as long they practice their warbling three streets down from my hovel. This is where my coven sleeps and feeding time can be manic anyway. The time is now for the tangled truth to come apart and to prove itself in righteous conquest of ladies bathroom appliances.

The runes make for quality short stories provided that you can translate them into something even doctoring on Switchblade English. The lexicon is limited but growing thanks to the thriving thrifty subculture that swarms about the base of most liquids and their remnant stains. The grease can be sweet to the touch and indifferent to everything else that doesn’t smell quite so adamantly of glue and wheat-based products. The eyes and the ears and the nose are cruising along at a cool fifty two and they won’t take no guff from no mister or sister or iambic tetrameter ahead of its planking schedule. Regulations have to be tooled and painted blue for traffic warning purposes, especially if used whilst working out on the roads and motorways. Dual carriage ways are not permitted.

31/03/2014 - PHANTOM MADNESS

Phantom madness = men in trolleys + Timely Emancipation. Barricade = barracuda = no friends who give up their guns and die for their country. We’ll see the people raise the flag with masks of mathematical structure or recorded track records that run as far as the elbow and no farther due to budget cuts and severe, severe telltale signs of dimorphic faith. Good evening to the school liar and his handy backpack filled with little people with both brains and bite. Bravo. After the snake, the aftertaste will burn the students alive. You talk too much and the tots will be covered with rain and presence of mind in wonderful battles that spy on better problem-solving activity. Hold yourselves in readiness. Take your knife and kill the theory like a woman in shaded clothing and all her years ahead of her.

 

STRIDENT BRAIN CHEMISTRY                          PATHS CROSSING AGAIN

                                                                        OH NO

                                                DON’T I KNOW

 

            Thinking on description – poor things in love = twice the wimp I once was. Attend the tale. Shave + Tread + Trod + Bridges = Troglodyte Physics = Fancy Clients for Half the Price. The demonic natter of swung will hold the hostage to the sky to moralise the bowtie off of most Mediterranean gentlemen who have long memories and short nods. No-one can get down there anywhere or anyhow just to prove the pedant his pittance was a kingly sum for the sake of the Roman Empire. Sentence the son and you accuse the father besides the point and we all know what kind of hind the overlord will shelve after that with his first ideas and verdant bed sheets. I look for truth for the definition mostly.

 

WHY AM      AND   NOT    PM      BECAUSE     THE    LANDLINE   SAYS  SO

 

            The sad little criminal has the potential to deceive with his tiny digits and proportionate crucifix. The magnifying is always a spectator sport and not one to go cheaply into that orthodox nightly engagement. The whip meets with the flesh and the cat gets out of the bag. Eleven people will march on down to the regular police office and shout out their lottery numbers for confirmation of their right to pass judgement. Not now but later. Not later but now we shall see the woman flood herself into the room and call on her spiritual divinity with little more than a superstar wrapped up in her knitted scarf. Keeping the peace, peacekeeping, remembrance of dart contests as quick as a flash in the party hat central zone, the one that’s quarantined and has been for quite a while now and nobody is willing or ready to tell us why. Something fishy in the water, smells like soot in fact. The plan chews back, don’t you know? Don’t you get me wrong whilst I’m up here waiting for your reactionary marrows and whimsy of God. The stamped and sealed envelope = fronds at the top = is where we all are going + good PR + messy recorder music.

 

                                    WANNA                                GONNA

30/03/2014 - CATCH DIAMONDS IN UNEARTHED FILM

Catch diamonds in unearthed film.

Start up a barbershop and don't tell anyone about it.

Dispense with formality like it was a dishy soap actor.

Ameliorate the accruement.

Call in the Calvary Cavalry.

Don't repeat.

Rinse occasionally.

Prepare.

Tear down.

Giggle.

FBI.

The jury's out on the call collection, they just want to have some fun and they've got a Frisbee ready for just such action. As of now though the children of the revolution are coming forth as kiddies and don't intend to slaughter little children in sharp contrast to the rest of recuperation. The eggs are on credit, the eggs are alight, the eggs are on light, the eggs are high, the eggs are defining journalism, the eggs are corpulent in their copulation with other eggs. The jury will stand before their peers and intend to incline until the sun makes hens for the gander to peck at. No-one has anything particular or choice to say about the Harley Slick Group or their intermarrying with Mr Thank's thuggish lot. They play tennis and demolish the demonizing of aged award ceremonies like scoliosis. The boiler heat needs to be moved along an hour and the canvas bags are establishing themselves as crates in the boxed-in arts of kung fu. That seat really exists and nobody is allowed to sit in it until the FBI and the CIA and the NSA are heaving heaven off Ground Zero again. The car salesmen are doing their bit by staying the hell out of the way. The stairway, the ladder, the airlift, the pillar, the scheming jamboree with physical handlebars have all been pulled down to make room for rushing air particles and angry Scotsmen with their feet all up in the cumulus for convenient purposes. This will come of nothing with rich sluice and proud fatherhood.

When it happens it happens like an agonizing scream from moonlight knobbing and too much observation thereof whilst the hob's been left on and the fire isn't shaping up to be a scar. The nature of the matter is as grey-suited as any consecutive executor and lasts just as long on the tip of the tongue. The armada is for thumping. Weeds and ironing boards. The baby is out with the bathwater again but the sortie requires neither for the drinking and consumable convocation. The textbook is as simple as therapy on a diet of dietary pills and thundered diabetes. Steady on. Dirty pool. Rich pauper. The time is not right for the tide to be so high and the day is not filled with enough blue to grease the winks of Afghanistan's poetry or the dangerously snarky tambourine terror. Creation comes to the dead just as pencil shavings issue out through a dog's plucked and trimmed arsehole. The silvery glow of the jumper across the conditioned whiteout is merely the continuum's way of telling us all to keep off the cold and to strap down every magazine vulnerable to attack. Romance to the mast, to the cavalcade.

29/03/2014 - SLIM LAPTOP BITING DOWN

Slim laptop biting down hard on the thirty second views thanks to the slim hope brought about by ‘Getting Started’ and the company sauce. The screen just shut off and tucked in its shirt like the black weekend lover we all try to forget. Getting around doesn’t always mean alms for the workers, it can refer to the mutation of the Ninjitsu culture into a constellation of deprived figures and figureheads. This is not a lonely heart’s column ad, it’s something else and far too important to rely on your patient observation of post-apocalyptic political thrillers. The mystery is in the action and keeping pace is just another form of exercise popularised by the bearded gentleman from the home quay. He just wants some friends and a place to lay low for a while as he rediscovers his talent for picking up women from strangers’ houses. He’s a stone cold liar, that boy and don’t deserve no further arm-flapping or leg-jerking.          I’m far too far from sorry right now, I haven’t even got the multimillion dollar question: what were the confirmations? Was it A: straight bluff, B: a series of unlikely events, C: scream if you want to go faster or D: the ticket dog will lose its head even further when I deliver my ham sandwich into its jowl.

This is the other way, the line manager who’s kind of settled down a bit thanks to all the crack and uppers that never seem to stop coming for clever chaps like you, mister. The ailing visitor came to his senses, reclaimed the child and being destined to chop up park fort the love and the glottis. This is the control room? I suppose I’ll just run a dustbin and salt shaker future filled with the physical imperfections, young mean women leave behind to make themselves . Whose fantasy is who’s one upgrade of Orion or the disembark of first class passengers. Anyone one guys, I said, ‘So that’s what happens with fealty and book launches to attend to. Henry aspires to lind minacity. He let aspirations on the par k and cut out the meony for th e sexy video that I found it to be from the photgraph.

Every time end is a weft funk atonement that doesn’t just stop with a little bit of kissing. You cannot enter the contest without naming and shaming the contestants, in case we thy they’re all grabbing their reading skills of SUPERINATTEND GIRLS KEEP ON TRIGGYING IN MY WELLINGTO’S AGAIN, WEIRD though. For once in the first war of the Madison’s birthday ahead of mine for five minutes. I’ll imagine you a plane out of here.

            A jig or a sagastone, there could be said no-more, The sand storms is coming and hitched by fifteen year old proofreading. The row went on for days and no-one bought that these screen people are karate in in natural human flesh and sex times with the air thus and nasty as a peashooter game on Winterhouse, surrogate sister explained.