a god thrown hangover mescaline 3 days without sleep a carolina reaper bad bad daytime freeview tv or other similar epic impediment when you can HEAR money and your HAIR is sore thats when hard questions come in crushing haste written in bold italic underscore strikethru CAPITALS
britains bellys indigestion solid swampy fens ate emerald cities remedy is crow cake cos rennie dont cut it ~ snouts in the roast beef and white pianos of sepia colonisation snouts in the bold font highlight shortcut of tabloid instruction ~ knee jerk solutions are gospel for the working club gin drink echo chamber conversation and the real ale beards pack soybean satchels for berlin in autumn
Each August – peak summer time – the peaceful tranquility enjoyed by
Dunediners is ripped asunder by what can only be described as a mass
invasion of undesirables, perverts, megalomaniacs, criminal elements,
religious cranks, ego-trippers and just ordinary weirdo’s. Having
proudly never attended a festival in my four decades on the planet it
was to my initial horror that I had relocated to a beautiful city that
fostered and indeed actively promoted such a ghastly abomination. For
natives of Scotland’s capital the Festival is a major inconvenience –
a stress ball of such magnitude that it inflicts great trauma – and
has even been rumoured to be the cause of premature death.
Understandably, as well as the mass invasion there is a simultaneous
mass exodus – with most native sons and daughters fleeing the city for
the entire duration . . .
arthur got a tan jim says to him who let you in ? you indian ! ~ should you let racism slide if the man is 205 and only thinks hes being funny with jokes from 1950 in the 8 AM quiet white cornershop street? ~ should i thank him for his national service before i say twat youre a twat jim your choice of newspaper makes me nervous ? in the 8 AM quiet white cornershop street ~ ( i wonder is there anything more wonderful than an enlightened elder ? )
the great experiment is off its rails off course goal posts warp and run a lifetime away ~ hungry ! but for what ? says no Real Animal ever ~ she wears a blonde wig instead of goodbye & goes off grid with ease ~ worry about what to wear to go shopping for clothes ~ leaders make the worst reality tv in the very many layered meanings of that immense oxymoron ~ follow the tweets from off a famous name one hundred years dead ~ look for the joy look for the joy look for the joy on tv ?
monsters rule by physciatric consensus when will out come the nephilim ? they will crumble quickly asking for uhu glue ~ gravity is a closed window above us is sky space & forever we ride a heavenly fedex to where ? ~ knee jerk bombs face saving missiles 90 dead before breakfast cardiac bellies sag on the third green ~ unspecial under bricks nature is calling forests & streams fill my dreams ~ stretch out in my wifi pod assassinated pig on cornershop bread mind in a gone land ~ cornershop stale chat i shall take my silence as a hint to leave ~ and for one precious moment for one precious moment one precious moment . . . meh