Youth.

I wrote this on a long journey the other day…

I remember a boy who always loved rivers
As he screamed and he skipped and he ran
So when the last light is naught but a sliver
I’ll take pride in his complete lack of plan

An infectious laugh brimming in joy
Just another face in the Oi polloi
And we danced
Castles float
Keith transmits
Ice expands
Plastic spins
Charlie fights
Acid lights
Raymond disappears
Nobody here

I remember a boy with no thoughts of the mortal
How he drank and he swore and he sang
And when I see that I let out a chortle
Yet some are long gone from the gang
And we danced
Twirling your stuff
Strutting a bluff
Where is she going
Enough is enough
What have you done with your hair
You burn and you dim like a flare
I can’t remember
It’s fading like embers
Play turns to working
Your bones are for hurting
Warm summer sun
Is this the last one
Sea was for swimming
Nettles for stinging
Is there money for one more ride
I don’t need anything with you by my side
Life is a bitch
Forgive us our sins
Life is a beach
An the tide’s coming in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Christmas message for the generation of the self.

Christmas is coming. But please remember there are people less fortunate than you. And there’s a good reason for that, it’s because you’re better than them! Fuck em! Homeless types are in that situation because they bring it on themselves. How dare they put us on guilt trips as we have to step over them during the sales. Same goes for the unemployed. What’s wrong with an 80 hour week on a zero hours contract? If you don’t want to do it I’m sure we can get some child from the Eastern bloc who’ll be more than happy on £2.50 an hour.

So stuff your face and spend thousands on bling, blood diamonds are probably best for profit margin. Up yours Jesus. Anyway Jesus hated the poor didn’t he? There was that time he cured the cripple. He said, “take up thy bed and walk. you’ve been declared fit for work you scrounging bastard” And as for May and Joseph…what you think we’re paying bedroom tax so you can just freeload for the night! That’s what we believe the rest of the year. So why change all that just because it Christmas? Why spoil 30 years of the self just because of some foggy minded Christian values. Hail Thatcher.

A short conversation on right wing comedians.

As a comic I’ve no huge issues to make with comedians that go at stuff from the right. If I don’t like it I move on. Simple. Surely that should be the rule on all of it. But I did have this conversation with a posh old lady recently that really made me laugh….

 

 

OLD LADY:  “Why is it that all comedians are on the left? I’m a Tory and would like to see more right wing comedians.”

ME: “Well there are conservative comedians nowadays. And if you think not so long ago lots of comedians were Tories or on the right. Just look at Jim Davidson and Bernard Manning.”

OLD LADY:  “Yes but they were horrible.”

ME    “Yeah I know. I wonder why that was.”

For The Love Of Star Wars.

I went to see Rogue One and thought it excellent. For me the first in the franchise to really address that it’s all about war…which then inspired this poem.

FOR THE LOVE OF STAR WARS.

Not so long a time ago,
In a galaxy where we stay.
An empire rose and then it fell.
Some rebels had their day.
One world war.
Two world wars.
Have three and then it’s see ya.
War’s an endless franchise.
Like Luke and Han and Leia.
The need to end such turmoil,
Cannot enough be stressed.
If only Presidents and Prime Ministers
with Jedi rational were blessed.
They lied about a phantom menace
in the rubble of Iraq.
We got the oil, a million dead.
An empire striking back.
Despite it all the people fight.
Here’s bloodshed and defiance.
Like Obi Wan in desert sands,
a Persian rebel alliance.
Are we as a moment now at our end of rope.
Or can a fairy tale inspire,
and bring us a new hope.
So when you hear of refugees
From Syria to Mogadishu.
Spare their blasted lives a thought,
and may the force be with you.

Imaginary B-Sides. Number 1.OASIS… PIE IN THE SKY

Number on in a short series of songs that don’t exist…but maybe should…

IMAGINARY B – SIDES NUMBER 1.

OASIS… PIE IN THE SKY.

Pie in the Sky.

Oh my oh my, We’re oh so high

We’re in the sky, like we can fly.

And when I look at youououououou

I’d like to smash you in the pie.

 

Cos we can’t be in the same room as each other.

Like Kane and Able we’re brother on brother.

And when you stand next to meeeee

If you were on fire

Well I wouldn’t peeeee.

 

Oh my oh my, We’re oh so high

We’re in the sky, like we can fly.

And when I look at youououououou

I’d like to smash you in the pie.

 

You took the fun out of our holiday summer.

Pissed on my castle you’re a total bummer

I don’t think you can even seeee

When we’re on stage

They hate you not meeeee

 

Oh my oh my, We’re oh so high

We’re in the sky, like we can fly.

And when I look at youououououou

I’d like to smash you in the pie.

 

Your such a twat you’re more southern than northern.

The worst thing to see is your face in the morning.

You think you’re the king of the beeeees

If you come around.

I’ll take you out at the kneeees.

 

Oh my oh my, We’re oh so high

We’re in the sky, like we can fly.

And when I look at youououououou

I’d like to smash you in the pie.

 

The Male Pill.

So we’ve got Trump, Clinton, Brexit and the failing pound but the big news is…Scientists announce they’ve finally developed the male pill. And it’s not really before time is it? I mean for women you’ve got pills, coils, implants, patches, caps, and being locked for a week in the menstruating hut. What do we have for men? Err…Rubber Johnny. 100 years of contraception and that’s it! Or get your balls cut off.

Thing is just by a show of hands…How many women here would trust a man who said he was on the pill? (TUMBLEWEED SOUND) Exactly!

I reckon before they bring the male pill out it should have something in it that helps prove a bloke is actually taking it. Perhaps it could make your willy glow in the dark, or it makes your balls make a noise like wind chimes.

I was looking at how the male pill actually works and apparently it lowers sperm count by targeting a bit of the man’s brain. REALLY? You’re telling me there’s some kind of correlation between the brain and the penis. No way! My willy can’t tell the difference between a woman and a bus.

Genuinely there’s a term for why men get unprovoked stiffies on public transport. It’s called Diesel Penis. It’s because of the vibrations from the diesel engine. I mean this could explain why bus drivers always look so unhappy. “Look son just pay the fare and get on the bus. I’ve been sitting with this thing for six hours now. I just want to get home and throttle the life out the bastard. Anyway when are you getting off?”

“When am I getting off? Well that really depends on your driving. If you just give the engine a good fierce revving when we get to the lights I’ll see what I can do.”