July 19th, 2007

Thursday 19th July 2007.

Today i have hid from the smegma world,from the graffito beast triffids spitting from within the encased wireless.No melancholy madness dripping thoughts into this crazy mixture,where two sides hang over the barbed wire fence throwing rusty cabbages at each other,if for nothing else than to see who's ball bag lurches closest to the barbed wire fence.
I sit here with a can of ice cold IRN-BRU,i am surprised Gorden Brown's face is not on the can,or a hand reaches out crushing my balls in the lust for more taxes,pushing my face up against the window as freedom wails into the blue night, screams and screams again.
I can say for the first time in ages not one frogs eyeball has fallen from the sky,a relief,a shock,maybe a gift from the tank driver..i do hope he is well tonight,i would like to think of him as the bull goose loony if those are the correct words i heard when playing the audio book.." One flew over the cuckoo's nest..." i remember how shocked i was at the ending when the chief had to snuffle out his life before escaping.Shocked how they could do such a thing in all places America.I bought a postcard in New York back in 1991 it is still pinned to this rooms wall the poem with the lines

" your huddled masses yearning to breathe free "

Maybe i am too much the romantic fool,utopia is now simply a word on newsprint only fit to used to wrap Fish and Chips,even that you cannot simply do to day such a loss for future generations, no walk home in the cold evening full of warm ale reading last weeks football results,fish batter amongst the page three tits greasy chips falling over some politicians rant about how we have to many tea breaks.I was on a bus once in Singapore a young lad full of bumfluff sat next to me i thought wow,super,i thought cocks,no such luck all i got was how lazy the brits who work at British Leyland,were to many tea breaks,this from a lad who's hands were that soft i would have been shocked if he could pick up a spanner,who had never drawn a days wage in his life yet but he was sat on a British Leyland bus..i wonder what he would say today.
I still bring out the copied tape from time to time play it as i ride around in my tiny red van still feel the same as when i first played, the anger welling up the hopeless of it all.I hope the tank driver does not end up such.I would luv to know there first question to him..

Cor blimey mate what the fuck..
YEA what the fuck, gotta a Tinny mate..