Tuesday, 17 February 2009


The neon lights woke me from a damp slumber,
it was unclear why I had stopped short of such an appealing establishment,
all I knew was that this titty bar promised some alluring bargains,
the sign proclaimed 'Unbelievable Discunts' and I was happy to benefit.

Monday, 16 February 2009


within arm's reach
of the liquid care
i sat holding
a crippled smile to my face.

through tear filled eyes
i could see the muted television
heckling me with images
of my own joyless refelction.

another fucking christmas

that poor bastard died for me

i raised my glass
and trickled brandy over my nuts
then took a wank over the weather girl.

short green skirt today.

she was making her way up scotland
as she reached her peak,
so did i.

wondering if i could sink any lower
i found some humour
as she muttered the line
"snow is coming"

i agreed whole-heartedly,
as did my pants.


i find myself,
on the whole,
in sympathy with mr stout's
treatment of psychological doctrines
in his 'analytic psychology'.

as the pain throttles my gusset
i cry for his well placed remedies
to displace my being.

how i wish i had not
impaled that street woman
behind the tavern.

i knew by the foul stench
arising from her nether regions
that she had a filthy axe wound
and was most likely
a carrier of 'cock rot'.

my genitals hung
like a wet sock.
as it sat lazily
against my inner thigh
i cried a salty tear.

i wept for my wife
whom i would leave dry
i wept for my unborn children
unable to exit
from my cul-de-sac scrotum.

Thursday, 5 February 2009


you grammar cunt.
i'm spent
like a sperm bank
on the most hormonal day
of the female calander.