Mood:  caffeinated

It’s been a long night for the lady in blue,

Her dress has frayed and she has broken her shoe.

The man in the jacket with the grass stains on his arms,

Has fallen unconscious resting his drunken charms.

There is vomit on her face, it reflects in the streetlight.

Her screeches and obscenities are insufficiently polite.

He stands and slumps against the lady in blue

And strokes her hair and runs his fingers through.

But then he stands and urinates against the tree,

Over aimed and, oh God, pisses on her dignity

How can this not jolt her into understanding?

That this is, in effect, an emotional crash landing.

Look down on yourselves you bewildering wrecks

Bodies filled with cider, vodka and unprotected sex.

You can’t speak without fuck, bastard, wanker or cunt,

Mixed with syllables more undignified than an animals grunt.

But who are we to say you are all immoral creatures.

We are no Gods, no saviours or bible-bashing preachers.

Perhaps after all the psychologists have got it wrong,

It’s not a defiant performance it’s where we all belong.

This is no escape from the prison of existence.

It is the genuine foundation of active subsistence.

The whole point of it is to get unreservedly drunk,

Collapse and fall then get fucked up an old tree trunk.

You two won’t regret what you have done tonight,

It will give you a laugh to muse over with sober insight.

It will happen again and again every Saturday week,

Have a kebab, have a fuck and get too drunk to speak.

Mood:  caffeinated

My dad says that Greenland is self sufficient in bananas because of the heated green houses they have there.  My Dads a liar.  My dad says that he know a bloke that almost made him famous.  My Dads a liar.  My brother is a liar too.  He told my mum that he lost that fiver because some boys had chased him but he didn’t he bought some fags and a box of matches and some polos.  My sister lies too and my mum.  My mum told my sister that she could have married George Clooney if she wanted too but he just didn’t play his cards right, I mean that’s just a big lie isn’t it? My sister says that she going out with Darren Black from the year above but she’s lying because I saw him with Suzy Nash from the 4^th year snogging on the bus.  She’s got really nice hair.   My sister has really big tits though so he would be getting his monies worth.  My dad says that he would give that bird one on the telly the brainy one who does all the numbers.  Not really sure why he would give her just one because you can’t do much with just one may be add a two and a three as well so you’ve got more to play with. My mum say’s that’s ok because his bad breath would knock her out anyway and so he would be done for rape and then he would have to go to prison and she can then get married to George.

Dirty

For a very long time and minutes more

I’ve always known I’m dirty.

It’s not love or high regard

Or me just being flirty.

Every man I ever meet

I consider a contender.

His courtesy will fall down

And break until surrender.

For a very long time and minutes more

I’ve always known I’m filthy.

A fine diversion to the real of life

And is perceived as worthy.

So don’t be shy and save my strength

Come forward for your taking.

I won’t promise love or high regard

But I will sooth your bounded aching.

Painful Temptation

My legs are astride

Your body to ride

Ecstasy and pain are together.

The touch of your skin

First out and then in

You suffer hard against my leather.

A whip and a blur

I take up the spur

With a lash of the whip I ride now.

Though blind with desire

I strip my attire

And follow the pleasure that guides now.

No break from this mood

Until sufficiently screwed

But in silent gratification. 

While mysteries like these

Provide a magnificent tease

So give in to the sinful temptation.

The organ will rise

And enter my thighs

To seek the hole that gives the contentment.

The moment to cum

Body aching and numb

Taking nothing but his resentment.

Ou cock has arised

How to Seduce

I like to think of Casanova

But it looks like I’m a slut

I have loved every man inside of me

And the consequential smut

I have had lovers that live so far away

That have sailed the seas for a fuck

I have had lovers that don’t know my name

But they know how well I suck

There are some I remember more than most

Because of something strange

A fine one was when I raised my skirt

And fucked on the stock exchange

I’ve had the young to nearly deceased

And all were really unique

From the heavy rock god and telly star

To the Jehovah and the Sikh

Some are tiny and some are huge

But most are in between

It’s not what you’ve got that counts

Or how smutty and obscene

What creates a good fuck is many things

And it’s a secret we all desire

But only time and persistence

Will ignite that sexual fire

And that is the key to a great fat fuck

To atain your ecstasy

You have to fuck like it will be your last

Spoilt in your fantasy

The best part is always the chase

And charm must be at front

Don’t sound like your desperate

And intentionally on the hunt

It’s always in the eyes and smile

And words not need be spoke

Seduce your prey in this way

And passion it will provoke

If this is what you really want

Then I wish you all success

And every corner that is turned

Brings a lover to caress

My friend Bec turned forty last week

And she really isn’t concerned.

She’s given in to wrinkle creams, and hold in pants

And her mini skirts have been returned.

My friend Bec turned forty last week

And her boobs have not gone down.

East, west and maybe north

Or possibly into town.

My friend Bec turned forty last week

And she’s so not losing her sparks.

Instead of Jimmy Choos and Manalos

She now shops at Clarks.

My friend Bec turned forty last week

And heads still always turn.

It’s usually because she’s totally mad

And the looks are of concern.

My friend Bec turned forty last week

And one thing is for sure.

She isn’t ever going to grow up

And act all sensible and mature.

My friend Bec turned forty last week

Soon it will be all Botox and peels.

A tummy tuck and a tit lift

And two for one cheap meals.

My friend Bec turned forty last week

And she ain’t getting old.

She’s not finished with being bad

That’s until she gets paroled.