Fly Season

You know, Sometimes
at the end of the summer
You figure you've just had Fly Season.
You've been
swatting,
potshotting
flies all summer season long and it's taken you to the end of the season to realize that you've just had The Summer Season of Flies.
Fly Season.

Screensaver

Philips,
Philips,
Philips,
Philips
Bounces from corner to corner
Rebound within borders
Taking orders from the rules
of his universe.
Every action, every kinetic action
taken by Philips
is returned with equal and opposing kinetical
force
'Til Philips lands on Samsung.
Pythagoras proud and
Toke took;
It's time to watch the film.

The Ballad of Bard and Roses

A soporific street on a soporific night
is dragged from REM to daylight.
A SWAT team bust in, survey the scene
of decadent squalor and elegant licentiousness.

"Who are you and what's your game?" he says. I says

We are

Graffers,
Taggers,
Authors,
Paupers,
The sons and daughters of
Mixed martial artists,
arsonists,
artisans and the partisan.

We are

Concoctors,
Conductors,
Concoctionists,
Brawlers,
Maulers,
Filthy kerb crawlers,
Ballers,
Shot callers,
High rollers,
Bank rollers
Rocknrollas and trequartistas.

We are

Anarchists,
Self-publicists,
Public house frequenters,
Deviants,
Miscreants
And anti-war protesters,
Tree-huggers,
Chuggers,
Illegal ingesters.

We are

Boys on choppers,
Girls with whoppers,
And girls with itty-bitty titties too.
Leisure pirates,
Lager louts,
Ticket touts,
Them with pumped-up Botox pouts.

We are

Buskers,
Beggars,
The unemployed,
Drunks,
Punks and Buddhist monks.

We are

B-boys
And Fly Girls
That dance On The Road,
Light-fingered bastards
Fuck the barcode!

We are

The good that die young
And the good that survived.
The frigid,
Asexual,
And the massive sex drives.

We are

Rude boys,
Ragamuffins,
Ravers,
Rave-savers,
Organ grinders,
Winder-uppers.

We are

Nit-pickers
Knicker-sniffers
Strippers and tabbed-up daytrippers,
Hustlers
Con artists that did youse like kippers.


We are

Plotters,
Schemers,
Utopian dreamers.

We are

Workers,
Strikers,
Heathens and vegans.

We are

Vagrants,
Vagabonds,
and James Bonds.

We are

Martini drinkers,
Shaken or stirred.

We are

Pint sinkers,
Words get slurrrrrrrrred.

We are

Boy racers,
skirt chasers,
shirt lifters and grifters.

We are

Stags and Hens
And Lads on Tour.

We are

David Nutt
Sir Ian Gilmore.

We are

The Wired sat down to a Naked Lunch.

We are

Ladies what lunch sat down for brunch.

We are

The Mods
We are the Mods

We are the,
We are the,
We are the Mods.

We are a splendid lot,
My gang and me, (I says to the heaving, sweaty SWAT)
And if we're guilty,
Lock us up and throw away the key.

C'est la Grève!

I prognosticate a dystopia
Lines of the Listless
Reams of the Restless
Spun out, wrung out, hung out to dry
In the cold
Where they don't feel the benefit of social engineering
An ethnic cleanse that contends
With the measures of Slobodan Milosevic
I'm sick of this sweetening with molasses kiss
Spare me the bullshit.
"We're in this together."
We're antithetical!
A compassionate con;
This time was supposed to be heretical!
Instead,
Fat Cats on the back bench titter and snigger
While the trigger on the Magnum pop-pops with vigour
The rounds aimed at the ligger
Who's pot for getting the Stella's in gets bigger and bigger
But it's the taxpayer who's got the hangover
Said yesterday's chip shop wrapping paper.
So rank, (apparently)
They single file
For fifteen minutes of fame on Jeremy Kyle.
Braggadocio of the braggarts that get them all roused
Of eight mothers for eight kids and a free council house,
Four teeth of which three of them are gold
Family silver and values are sold
Then good old Jezza gets them told.
"Go out, get a job and work like the rest of us have to!"
Of course, it's Trident tested years ago
Jobs for the boys, we look on amazed
At new improved ceilings, double-glazed.
Everyone's sat about thinking,
Pick your victim accordingly,
Don't slash the system remorselessly
If wielding the axe is a necessity
Then for the love of God,
Let's do this progressively.

Million Pound Drop

If you think it's too obvious, it's probably the right answer.

Ill Cry

Just when I thought it would be impossible to go any lower, I've reached the ultimate in emasculation. I just had a ill cry. You know, when you cry for no reason, because you're ill. Ill cry. I might tender that to Urban Dictionary. The Ill Cry.

The Indelible Jeff Stelling

Sometimes, when I watch Sky Sports News, I find the news keeps happening over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. Again.

Sometimes, when I watch Sky Sports News, I find the news keeps happening over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. Again.

Sometimes, when I watch Sky Sports News, I find the news keeps happening over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. Again.

Sometimes, when I watch Sky Sports News, I find the news keeps happening over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. Again.

Sometimes, when I watch Sky Sports News, I find the news keeps happening over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. Again.

Sometimes, when I watch Sky Sports News, I find the news keeps happening over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. Again.