who needs poetry
when all it takes is just three
little words from me
She is like a starving lioness, craving the kill, desperate for the taste of blood, the sensation of tearing flesh and the sweet stench of terror from her prey. She needs to feed. She longs to devour and feast. She needs to eat. Her hunger so strong that it hurts, consuming her every waking moment and drenching her dreams. It’s the only thing she can think about. She simply has to feel her teeth sinking into soft, terrified flesh. It’s in her very nature, to choke and kill and devour. She has no choice in the matter. It is who she is and it is what makes her so beautiful.
The best thing about her is that she’s coming round later tonight for what she describes as a barbecue. I’m just a little puzzled, as I don’t have a yard, but I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about, and I can’t wait to find out.
Love is like a butterfly,
A winged, furry insect
of the order Lepidoptera.
Oh, no, that’s a moth.
A moth is like a butterfly
I have been away from the blogosphere, working on a design for a rudimentary time machine. I now have basic prototype but I won’t know if it works until yesterday.
In 1920 Albert Einstein undertook a lengthy lecture tour of the United States to explain his new theory of relativity. The tour was so long that, towards the end, his driver mentioned that he had heard the lecture so many times that he could probably deliver it himself. Einstein suggested that he have a go, and the following night they traded places and the great man sat in the audience with his driver’s cap on, while the driver delivered the speech – with word-perfect accuracy.
Once the lecture came to an end, the Q and A started and a student in the front row threw up his hand and asked a complicated question about the mathematical structure of the space-time continuum. Without a moments hesitation, the driver pointed out Einstein in the crowd, still wearing the driver’s hat, and said “That question is so easy, that even my driver knows the answer.”
It was a dodgy kinda pub, you know the sort, dark and seedy, old men nursing their half pints so as to make them last the whole evening, or topping up their glasses from cans in a bag under the table, but I was meeting the man there, so there wasn’t much I could do except grin and bear it.
When I got up to visit the bathroom, several heads spun silently in my direction, beady eyes weighing up my pint greedily. I sat back down and flipped over a beer mat. On the back I wrote, in simple block letters “I HAVE SPAT IN THIS BEER”, propped it up against the glass and went and took a leak.
When I got back, my drink remained untouched. I grinned, I was way to smart for these lowlifes, I thought. I took the card and laid it back on the grubby Formica. I took three long gulps of the cool, golden liquid and then noticed that underneath my words on the beer mat, someone had written the words “SO HAVE WE”.
so anyway, i had unprotected sex with this prostitute the other week, and a few days later my cock turns purple. naturally, i go see my doctor and she tells me that it will have to be amputated. now, that seems a bit extreme to me, so i get myself a second opinion and go see this classy doctor on harley street. “my doctor says its gotta be amputated,” i tell him, “tell me that’s not true.”
“oh no.” he replies, “that’s totally unnecessary. give it two or three days and it’ll fall off all by itself.”
Who let the cat out of the bag?
Well who bloody put it there?
You shouldn’t put cats in bags
In the first place,
That’s just not nice.
There is a small village somewhere, somewhen. One of those simple villages that have been around since long before the big cities and will still be around long after the cities and their gleaming towers will have crumbled into dust, In the centre of the village sits an old lady and a small child. The old lady is telling the child a story, it is the oldest story in the world, it is the story of the world, and how it came to be. If I remember correctly, it goes something like this:
In the begining the world was empty and grey and there was no life, not a leaf, not a frog, not a sausage. The only things to exist were two stone giants, called Wassisface and Wassername, and they stood like gods at either ends of the earth. Now, these giants were so enormously tall that they could see right the way round to the other side of the world, and one day they caught sight of each other and fell immediatley in love. Sadly though, both the giants were so large and heavy that if either of them moved the whole world would tip over and roll off into space. So they called to one another, so loud and powerful were their voices. They sang songs to one another and told jokes and made each other laugh. But they were sad too, for they could not hold one another as they so dearly wished to, and they cried with this sadness. They cried so much that they filled all the rivers and streams with their tears and all the lakes and seas and oceans. However, their tears nourished the dry land and things began to grow in it and it turned green and purple and silver and very lush, just like it is today. And the oceans teemed with little life which grew and crawled onto the green land and became all the life we see today. All the buttertflies, and rhinososauruses and cockroaches, all the peacocks and snails and all the animals and birds you can see, or think of, or even imagine, they all came from those tears. And people too, we all came from those same tears and that same sadness.
They are still there today, Wassisface and Wassername – the old lady tells the child – the two giants, standing at the opposite ends of the world, calling to each other, laughing and crying. And you can still hear them if you know how – whispers the old lady – listen carefully to the thunder next time there is a storm and you will hear them laugh. Let the rain fall on your face gratefully for it is their tears and without them we would not be here.