Be nice, we are all we have

Look there, that's Rick Cortez the big shot LA fiddler wi' the spikey barnet


http://www.missionrespect.com/index.htm

see me, hear me, bore me

LOL... LMAO....ROTFLMAO...BBC....PCP....LSD...ITV....CFC...BWFC....blah blah

Ol' king cole was a merry old soak

nostalgia ball point pen paper the dreams of chillblanes

the main man glinesy inspired this... afte rJustin Coffe showed me the light (switch)






what do we want?
Better gravy!
When do we want it?
On a SUNDAY!!!!!!!!

Love is an open mine shaft

'hello' said the medical person applying a tourniquey... 'Are you alright?' she stammered. 'It's... it's just these tourniqueys are so hard to spell.' Her voice lead me away from the stupor i had been enjoying, the result of meeting some floor travelling in the opposite direction to me. It's pace quite surprising. My senses being thoroughly wrong footed as a consequence. 'i think there is a 't' on the end there, like 'tourniquet'.' The personal medic pondered this for a small minute (45 seconds, new directive from Brussels)
'Ah yes. I think you are right. How's that then?'
I winced a little wince... maybe it was a big wince... they are hard to measure at the best of times... which this wasn't. 'It feels better with the correct grammar.'
'That isn't grammer that's spelling.'
'Oh I beg your parsnip... how do you do? It's just you look so much like Grandma, she used to shave her head as well... you know, in the summer. She claimed it confounded the bees'

Graphic novelty

Writing graphic novels isn't easy these days... there are the many pages of 'nothing going on' to think of plus the correct amount of too much pretension, the waffle, the scenes were people walk through the snow, talking talking talking.... my own story concerns a woodland thing and some other characters that I haven't thought out.. they live in Toronto or something and go about their bland little adventures. I plan on having about 4000 pages with an intro of about 20 pages by some wanker you never heard of. The release date is somewhere towards the end of the mayan calender and it will be on 'Put a glass eye to sleep publishing'.... then again.... maybe I'll make a sandwich... or as we say round here, chilli home fry soup granade.

burnt umber.. polly piquant... take a number

Cecil is a fella, a fella who eats plates
He often gets through 30 while talking with his mates
The years have flown by and his teeth are gone
His poor arse now but tatters
But there's hardly any washing up... and surely that's what matters.