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A Horse Story For You

He asserted his dominance over his fellow beast with a sheepskin jacket. The sheep lobby was furious, he understood. But Maurice didn’t care. Leather trousers were next on the agenda.

Bloody vegetarians!  What about plant rights?  Vegetables feel pain too, you know.  Fish don’t really mind if you eat them.  While Jesus the Christ said to fish on the other side of the boat,  Maurice thought that, in modernity, it was better not to fish at all, given dwindling cod stocks.

That night Maurice used an equine condom.  He didn’t want horse children with Emma.

She worried about her husband smelling oats on her.

He wanted to talk to her but couldn’t – he was a horse.

He needed cash, and fast.  He advertised his arse space, spreading the word throughout the reptile community.  Sure enough, a pregnant snake responded, looking for somewhere affordable to give birth.  A horse’s arse looked ideal – warm, dark, plenty of nutrition, easily accessible.

SOL – Smiles Out Loud

Thank God for Atheism!

Nude horse on all fours

Nelly lifted his tail up and inhaled deeply at the hole.  She was pleased.

His grandfather claimed to have killed Shergar and Red Rum.

At the end of the ordeal, she stuffed a blood soaked tampon up his arse, forcing it home with a 13” rubber dildo.

Daddy, teach me how to poo again

Was this the human thing they called… love?

He was fed up with this grass shit – he wanted steak and chips.

Aliens + Hitler under the surface of Mars.

Aliens under Mount Everest and at the centre of the Earth

He greased his hoof and entered her.

All horses get married in heaven, unless they don’t want to.

As he drifted off to sleep under the influence of ketamine, he wondered how big God’s penis was.  It would be large, for sure.  One million miles long, and one hundred thousand miles wide? No, too small.  A billion miles long and one metre wide? No, too thin.  A nanometre long and seven light years wide?  Short and stumpy, but surely the Godesses couldn’t complain about God’s girth.

The ‘ Glen Hoddle’ dirt – Forced out

The Kenwyn  Jones – Dark, Fast, and Strong

He put his headphones on, and listened to AC/DC. He mimed along to ‘What do you do for money, honey?’, not missing a word.  This was his favourite song on the whole album.  ‘Have a drink on me’ was God’s favourite, he believed.

‘How High?’ II – White kid smokes dope, becomes a telepath

“Honey?”   “What, honey?”

“OH, I’m upset – please leave.”

Tweet tweet, flap flap, preen preen

“What’s up, hon?”

“It’s mating season” said the bird.

Rustle of feathers, rustle of feathers. 

Plumage!  Plumage!

“…or I’ll pop a cap into your anus.”

“Ass”

“Where?  Oh, I see.”

Jonathan Foreigner

“Oh, Mr and Mrs Foreigner, why did you call your only son ‘Jonathan’?”

He shat messily into her bird bath and left.  Later he wondered if he should have shat into her fish pond, too.  A missed opportunity.

A horse had been mugged by another horse – a damning indictment of Blair’s Britain.

Her visits to the stables became less frequent, but/ and she yearned for the feel of a horse between her thighs. For the smell of a horse.

He was fed up with sugar cubes – tonight he wanted a hamburger, one with bacon and cheese.

He was fed up with hay – he wanted pizza tonight.

He stuffed an acorn up his arse.

That night, he and Emma looked at the stars together.  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see the birth of a new star, to see a new planet? To explore other worlds?” etc….she asked.  He said he wasn’t sure, as he couldn’t even be bothered to visit Scotland, or Ireland.  It took all his effort just to jump the odd fence and maintaining a relationship between himself and his master’s wife.

She stuffed doner kebab meat up his arse, and fed.  The onion stang a little, but he was grateful she chose to forego the chilli sauce.  He enjoyed her tonguing his anus.  When she kissed him, he could smell the animal on her breath.

Maurice didn’t want to be responsible for the break-up of their marriage.  But he’d had human now, and had grown somewhat accustomed to it.  Emma was a fine horse, but she could never please him the way Nelly did.  He took a sip of lager as he lay uncomfortably in her bath. ‘I wouldn’t put my penis into a horse’s mouth’, he thought.  It could be bitten clean off.  At the very least it could be chewed up.  Better to stick to human females.  Oh, Nelly.  Her husband worked in the city, leaving her with a lot of free time and the keys to their stables.  If they did break up, maybe the husband could have a relationship with Emma the horse. This, he felt, would assuage his guilt.  But this was ridiculous, a man and a horse.  She wasn’t his type at all.

Her husband was away on business, and that night they lay together as woman and horse.

He didn’t dance unless he was on Jack and Jills. When he did dance, he made it count.  ‘Crazy Hooves’ some called him, ‘Aggressive stirrups’.

His nostrils flared violently as his horsecock wept milk.

He felt a gas coming and pushed at it, but at the last moment decided against it and backed off.  He didn’t want a repeat of the time he tried to do the loudest dirty air he could, to impress Emma.  After a meat korai!  He had ended up with chocolate sauce all down his leg.  Emma was substantially less than impressed, he reckoned.  She, on  the other hand, didn’t seem to go to the toilet at all, like all the best, classiest mares.

“Let’s make a sausage.”

Betty’s rules – 2.3secs for double, 5secs for treble

-Sir! Sir! A drunken horse has turned up at the door! He’s demanding cheese and wine! What should I do?

-Don’t let him in.

-He got in! He drank all our wine, then ate all of out fine cheeses! Then he was sick, very sick.

I heard that an elderly Jamaican man wandered the plains and fields of Jamaica, smoking skunk and occasionally muttering the word ‘fled’ and laughing. Is this true?

How does a horse go on holiday? Ryanair, usually.

‘Lucky’ the three legged mouse raped a horse.  The horse had cried rape before, and the mouse walked free.  The mouse’s mother told the horse that the mouse would, in the afterlife, be repeatedly penetrated by a succession of woodwind instruments, by an ant.  That ant would, in turn, be outraged by an elephant. Rough justice, perhaps, but justice nonetheless, she told him.  

He looked at the horsebox and frowned.  Having a bad horsebox brought shame to a horse.

Horse on horse violence…

“Are you of God’s shoe, or are you of Satan’s shoe?”

“You’re a dark horse” he said to the dark horse.

“I know that”

He didn’t like dark horses, but wasn’t racist.  Ok, he was a bit racist.  Coming into our stables, taking our oats, stealing our women with their dark horsecocks…

‘You look gay’ he thought, and indeed the dark horse did. He was dressed up in ribbons and a saucy hat.

God had, finally, proven that he didn’t exist.  He laughed softly.  He was the only entity capable of fully disproving God’s existence.

She attacked him with the black vibrator that night.  At this rate, he thought, he would need equine anal rejuvenation, from a specialist, such was the ferocity of her motions.

He thought about leaving, reconsidered, and urinated loudly into her kettle.  Later he would offer her a cup of coffee.  Strong coffee, to mask the taste of the horse water.  Perhaps he should have urinated into the decanter of whisky instead.  He sniffed at it, and decided that it was Jack Daniels.  He imagined that Jack Daniels may be tired of the informality of his name, and now preferred to be called James.  James Daniels.

He put on the eponymous Deicide CD, their debut album.  “Give praise to Satan” roared Glen Benton, “You will give praise…” He blinked, once. “…to Satan!”  Was this a prediction?  An order?  And maybe he would, but not tonight.  He supposed that in an alternate reality Deicide were a Christian soft rock act, spreading God’s message.  He must have fallen asleep then, for he awoke with Deicide still playing.  As he came to, he realised he must be in hell, and being shouted at by the dark one himself. That night he had a dream about being chased by Satan.

Maurice was worried – he was spending fully two thirds of his money on ketamine.

Third and final heart attack.

“Please give head to my arse.”

I’m a horse, intelligent for a horse, with horses supposed to be intelligent in the first place.  He rated himself above his horse peer. But who decided that horses were intelligent?  It was the humans, who were stupid.  So it didn’t count.

The next morning he could see and smell her dirt on his sword.

His frequent erections were troubling him.

He paused to consider the language he had just invented, while waiting for the second motion of his dirt to commence.  He had, in his mind, already created one of the letters in its alphabet.  It looked like this:  

*insert picture*

He realised it would take all of five minutes for a man to fashion it, longer for a horse, perhaps far longer.  One sentence, at that rate, could take several hours.  Even a long word would require substantial effort.  He mentally shelved plans to create new languages whose characters began merely as mental doodles, for  the next phase of his dirt was imminent.

This erection he welcomed.  He spoke to it softly.  Nelly guided it into her face, then her arse, which spat yogurt.  As he began to climax, images flooded his mind – Sheila the horse, Pantomime Villain the horse, Shadowfax – Gandalf’s horse.  And, for some reason, Bronwyn from Neighbours.  He felt his erection subsiding.  Shadowfax – the fastest horse ever created. And what curves!

Like when he got drunk and tried to have sexual intercourse with a police horse.  He wondered now what the police horse represented.  Was his attempt to penetrate  him or her (he was drunk, he didn’t mind) his attempt to thwart authority?  Was it, in that case, something to do with his father?  He finished his dirt and wiped his arse with a nearby towel.  She would barely notice, he thought – the dirt was clean, dry,  and had come out quickly.  ‘Fast and Dry, Slow and Wet’ , the old adage came to mind.  Was that blood on the towel?  He flushed and opened the door.  He noticed belatedly that he had become aroused while thinking about the police horse.  He now covered his erection with the towel, in case he was seen.  Was it already too late?

Hey! That’s…. 

-Alliteration! /

– Racist! /

– Onomatopoeia!

-That rhymes!

A horse has done something unspeakable…..

-On your ironing board

-in your bird bath

-inside your apron

-in the kitchen sink

-on the mantelpiece

-all over the remote control

-in your hairdryer

-in your breakfast cereal

Foreskin etiquette…..

-Wash in sink b4 penetrative sex (uncouth men don’t)

-Use highly scented oils and rub in hemp hand cream

David Camera – All about image.

Against all the odds, he had an erection.  At a time like this!

BETTY…..

-It’s dirt / gas

-Lets’s make a sausage

-Oh god… sag aloo / onion bhaji / quishe

-Fast / slow

-Wet / Dry

-Sweaty

-Soft / Hard

-Smelly

-Stubborn

-Phantom

-Dirty / Clean

etc…..

Chi…and that night he went to bed with an erection that would not subside.  He longed for opposable thumbs and a wrist.

“Please make love to my face with your arse.”

A wife and two beautiful girlfriends

CHILD STUFF-

(to school) “make me go,go,go,GO” (had been listening 2 Loose)

Child won a spelling bee!

Child has fake ID, aged 7

Child wants a pony

Child takes a hip flask full of red wine to school, gets thrown out

Death = memories released

“Ah…. So familiar” (ketamine scene)

The horse noisily stuffed a hoof into her arse.  She climaxed again.

“Make me”

“I’ll make you, in bed”

Bloody tampon in pint in pub.  HIV infected.

The horse drew deeply on his cigarette.  He was spent.

“Of course I bloody love you”

Emma the horse uses your face as a masturbation aid

It was the ultimate shame, being held down by four white girls and raped by a fifth, who gave him AIDS. It was all because they felt he was being gay to them.

What was his worst fear?  Being raped by a horse, a horse with AIDS

Bobby Wets Hits (Bobby wet shits)

She stuffed some oats up her arse, and sprinkled sugar on the outside of her anus, to please him.  

She thinks the horse is gay – that’s why she penetrates him

Horse: Maurice.  You don’t find out he’s a horse until later?

Impersonating, or being impersonated by, a horse / Dressed as a horse

Nelly plunged her favourite dildo deep inside the horse’s arse.  The horse came immediately, rivers of milk.  The creamy water sprayed against Nelly’s wall.  She reintroduced the phallus to the horse, feeding it slowly into him.  The horse instantly had another anal orgasm, and stomped as he came, his arse wet with milk.  Nelly, satisfied, returned to writing a song about Jesus’s foreskin.

Equine herpes

She took the horse’s length in her mouth.  He was quite small for a horse, but large for a man.

Where would the horse take her this time?  Mouth n’ ass, she supposed.

Rough Justice

She kissed the horse hard in the mouth

The horse noticed a flowing of blood away from his head.  Evaluating his crotch, his worst fears were confirmed  – he had an erection.

Is there a prouder beast?  Can a horse ever truly be tamed?

The horse withdrew from her mouth

“Why do you love me?”

“Because you’re beautiful and special, like the moon”

PET NAMES

Snooks

Darling-kins

Dolphin-kins

Pump-kins

Sausage of desire

Dandruff-kins

In the midst of their conversation, the horse noticed what he believed to be the beginnings of an erection.  He knew he was aroused – he could feel it

Her arse was soaking wet in anticipation of the horse’s member.

Handle of a wooden spoon (+ an enormous one)

Maurice released some dirty air before he expelled chocolate sauce.  He aimed for a rival horse’s water trough.  His aim was true.

No sex after marriage, rather than no sex before marriage

She sighed, and masturbated the horse into a trophy/shield/cup-a-soup/ oyster

It was like the thousand year reich, but with love instead of Nazis.

…burst into tears of joy

…has fallen in love with you

She wept tears of joy, of relief.

She laughed angrily and returned to composing a song about a butterfly

The horse resigned himself to another erection, and stifled his grimace with a hoof

A horse – in a dressing gown – drinking orange juice from the carton.  This was his worst habit, besides bestiality

He had suffered and erection

He pulsed into her

HORSE NAMES

Onion

Tobacco

Whisky

Pantomime Villain

He only started to worry when she suggested they introduced a sheepskin noseband into the bedroom, alongside the stirrups

SONG

In the morning

I awaken

You will be given

One last chance

To cook

The horse disrobed in front of her.  His erection was obvious.

The horse is aroused, and angered, by watching C4 racing, and, more worryingly, by Crufts

While he felt that his erection was unnecessary, he enjoyed the juxtaposition of it, set against the cold reality of that morning

In the thrall of a drug addiction

“It’s not an ass, it’s an ass-et”

He came velvet into her mouth

He messily wiped the dirt off his foreskin into her sink

That night her tits wept milk for him

The horse, once proud and noble, now discovered that he had an erection, in a barbershop

Oh. The shame!  It was barely lunchtime and he already had an erection.  In the newsagents of all places.

He felt a superior lyricist somewhere in the jungle, a larger cat

Nelly’s newspaper – doesn’t wanna be read

It was now certain – he had an erection.  “Not now” he thought, but it was too late – he was proudly erect

The horse submitted to the inevitable erection and backed into a bush to cover his shame.  This was absolutely the worst time he could achieve an erection.

Metaphor, for death

“Gimme the lute” – Biggie robbing a medieval ochestra

Rough justice – the condom was covered in acid and broken glass.  The condom is, of course, acid resistant and glass proof

He let fly.  God!  It sounded like an explosion in a trumpet factory/convention/museum/exhibition/reunion

END OF BOOK-

Meanwhile, somewhere in heaven, a horse was silently weeping with laughter.

“Oi!  Horseface!”

Daniel Druff

Invented or discovered time

Where is God’s love? God’s love is all around

Rivers of blood

“We’ve been defrauding you mercilessly for quite some time now”

“You smell of oats, and dandruff”

His Grandfather has worked on the Apollo program, albeit fraudulently

He approached her anus like a hungry horse approached a bucket of oats.

Of course!  A horses head… on a humans body!

SHEILA THE HORSE

-I don’t feel like prancing

-She’s only happy when she’s prancing

Dirt in and around the anus

WINSTON CHURCHILL JOKE (drink b4 breakfaxt)

Coke- not to be sniffed at

“Your face, my arse… now”

“You were’nt saying that with your tongue in my arse”

The horse noticed a tightening at his crotch.  It was true – he had sustained an erection.  Christ!  He had an erection!

Maurice eased into his smoking jacket and lit a small cigar.  Was bestiality so wrong if you were a horse – a beast?

LYRICS

I sprayed my mace anyway/

Quite unnecessarily/

He rolled around in agony/

But he deserved it/#

He had defrauded a swan

She could reward his diligence in bed by sniffing him

What was his worst habit?  Bestiality

She was dirty, wrong, and troublesome.

Can a horse ever be truly tame?

Ants – Fierce, proud, loyal, aggressive, 

“Milk me”

Powerful erection

Metallica’s Chinese tour  – ‘Trapped under rice’

LYRICS

Hey! Hey”

You! You!

I don’t like your foreskin

-This predated Lavigne

-Maybe she was Engival – the evil Lavigne, stealing her lyrics

Hers was more effective

God was an atheist as a child… his Dad put it down to lack of self belief

Canibus had extendable knees, and now represents six feet.  He, like Hendrix, had a penis extension, the first thing they got done when they were famous.  Naturally they were both tiny, like a child

“Our horses require lager, strong European lager. Preferably Stella.  One has ordered a takeaway, while two want to go to a club. One horse has been sick already”

“It’s longer than the file the FBI have on Canibus”

“You see, horse, I’ve become somewhat accustomed to you.  It’s like Annie Oakley, with more penetration”

MOTD

From the looks of Hansen’s tan, he had been away for a couple of weeks.  He would need a couple of MOTDs to get back his match sharpness. Perhaps we would see a rusty pun or two to start with.   With the squad rotation of Hansen, Lawrenson and Shearer, could  all pundits be kept happy?

God wore moccasins usually, but flip-flops on Sundays, for church.

All you’re base were belong to we

That night he approached her with his penis as an artist approached his canvas, with long, generous strokes.  Her bed was his easel, her body his canvas, his cock his brush.

HIS GROIN…

Leaked porridge

Spat cream

Ejected cough syrup

Voided itself

Came moss/vanilla/gravy/wet cement

Wizard joke – couldn’t get the staff

Nice guns – aim 2 please

Nelly’s tits

Nas – Pearl handled guns / pearl necklaces

50 Cent – get out the club (golf joke)

From the moment she saw him she knew she would have him.

His stirrups glistened in the sun

He was uncertain about the introduction of condiments into their foreplay

He cleaned his part with her toothbrush, wondering if the toothpaste would sting.

“There’s two types of people, I think. People that are cool, and people that think they’re cool.  I think I’m the first kind.”

It seemed silly to be ruled by a powder, stupid crystalline granules

Her arse smelled of apricot today.

He came into her nostrils while she was asleep.   The next morning she would blow her nose and look surprised.  She gazed enquiringly into the handkerchief, while he blushed.

SPINAL TAP SCRIPT?

APPLICATION FORM

Religion? All – he considered himself to be open minded.  Well, all major ones anyway, some minor.

Gender?   Yes, I see… he had a growth between his legs, this was called a…penis?  This would suggest that he was male.  Oh yes, and tits suggested femininity.  He ticked ‘male’ where there was supposed to be a cross.

Age?   His first thought was that he was several thousand years old.  This couldn’t be right.  He believed that he had existed in previous lives, so should he just add on their ages to the total?

Worst fear?  Being raped by a horse, a horse with AIDS

Weaknesses?

He was a social outlaw now.

She still carried a torch for him.  Hell, she still carried a gun for him.

“I’m sorry, I am unable to read your body language, being an autist.  We will find it difficult to engage in small talk.  Have you noticed that I am avoiding your eyes?   I feel I could have trouble relating to you.  What kind of animal are you in bed?  I’m a bustard, I think.  A large, flightless bird.”

In a dream, or something

In a vision, or something

Not freelance journalism as much as freestyle journalism – any topic, any time.

He’d see if he couldn’t force some dirt out.  Perhaps not force, he didn’t want to make it come out if it didn’t want too.  He would allow his sphincter to suggest it came out.

Still got love 4 it

At the sound of her voice the horse began to purr.

He had found God in an open sandwich.  Sort of a baguette.   Loose meat was inside, also onion.

Seeing Mr. Men on Television irritated him.  He had written to the producers a few years back,  suggesting new characters- new, more exciting Mr. Men.  Mr Complete Bastard was his favourite.  Mr Tourette’s was another.  And Mr….

He had heard that the second most recent Grand National winner had celebrated with a trough full of champagne and a sizeable line of ketamine.

NEW CRUFTS

Most Flatulent

Stupidest Bark

Least Well Groomed (dirty)

Strongest Bladder (messy and time consuming)

NEW HORSERACING

Wall of Flame

Points awarded for best fall

He knew that heroin would suit him, and that he would be addicted forever.

At his death he would burn in the fire of one hundred thousand and two trillion suns.

“Some people, they don’t wanna cheer, and they don’t wanna boo”

She invented the 27 fret guitar, which was closely followed by the 29 fret guitar.   She rushed online to patent her inventions.  Shit!  Someone had already invented the 30 fret guitar.  One higher… one longer.  No matter, she would simply invent the 31 fret guitar, no, the 32.  With eight strings.  Shit!  He’d invented that already, too!

He paused, thinking about leaving, then went back inside and masturbated into the bathroom sink.

Worse strikers than Thatcher

He wasn’t addicted, he just needed it all the time.  More each day.

-You may ask God one question

-God, what is gay?

-Gay means straight

-So what is straight?

-One question only, I’m afraid

-Perhaps straight means gay, then

She lightly soaped his horse balls and gently cleaned the inderneath of his foreskin.   She seasoned the foreskin.

What did the toilet say?  “I’m flushed”

What did the bottle of wine say?  “I’m drunk”

…Explodes in love

…Explodes in love again

…Once again explodes in love

…Once more explodes in love

“THAT’S THE LAGER TALKING” JOKE

He passed gas, and doubled back to inhale it.

“That’s my goal” (football / song)

He didn’t care much for the introduction of wooden spoons into their sex games, or mustard for that matter.

Anal herpes

He wanted to see him sodomised by disgruntled fire ants

He was upset – someone had put bacon in his coffee

EINSTEIN / HAWKING LETTERS?

He went to the Tate Modern, and saw an ass he liked. ‘Now that is art” he thought

Nelly in tate “I see art everywhere”

“THAT IT ALL” – common greeting in heaven

A picture painted a thousand words, but a good riff painted at least a couple of hundred.

“Yes, I am similar to the traditional Spaniard, quick with the wit, and quicker with the blade.”

Freedom of Thought

He stuffed his tobacco into her tobacco pouch

Over the next week she explored the boundary that existed between friendship and love, albeit with a horse.

She accused him that night of lacking passion

“If it would please you”

“Goddamn it lady, that’s my foreskin”

ALIEN STUFF – LONELY STAR?

We destroy your universe very easily

We destroy your sun with some ease

We destroy your silly world, we don’t know why

We use quantum weapons against you

We cut your planet in half with a powerful laser beam

We create 1000 ft tidal wave, with little difficulty

We steal your moon – this presents us with no real problems

WE PUT A BLACK HOLE IN…

Your sun

Your breakfast cereal

The middle of a café you favour

Your daily newspaper, in the sports section

Pall Mall

‘NICE’ WAR THREATS

-We accidently break some of your old, chipped china and immediatrely replace it with newer, better china from an established manufacturer of porcelain, after apologising profusely.  You may take this as an act of war.

-We stumble into your low quality TV, breaking some of the tubes.  For this we apologise, before offering to buy you a large laser TV.  This is, again, an act of war.

-We scratch your least favourite album, not on purpose, before asking you for your ten most wanted albums on general release.   We buy these for you on a format of your choice, after apologising.  We agree that this could be seen as threatening behaviour.

The horse began to purr at the sound of her voice.

This time to punish him she would pour whisky into his bottom.

“You are forgiveable”

Clear / Clear

Clear / Clean

Not Clean / Not clear

“I know – I checked”

“I know – I worked it out”

Please sniff me as a reward

He didn’t want to be naked.  He wanted equine clothing, horse underwear.

He disappeared up her arse for the second time that evening

Horse is a classically trained pianist

“Please kiss me as you once did”

“that horse has flown”

Jack of all tradesman’s entrances

She all but raped his mouth, with the handle of a wooden spoon

LOVE TUNNEL EUPHAMISMS

Gun cabinet

Trophy room

Love warren (for his love rabbit)

Garden Shed

Horse box

Bird’s nest – for his hungry crow

“Nigga you couldn’t describe a circle”

-Justin Timberlake changes his underwear up to five times a day…

-I know that.  I empathise, having bladder control issues myself

-Are you lonely, star?

-I am the loneliest star in the galaxy, one of the loneliest in the universe

-I shall be your friend, star.

A star explodes in love

ANTS

Aggressive

Proud

Territorial

Brave

Honest

Determined

Stubborn

Foreskin dandruff

Dirty mind, dirty foreskin

After childbirth her breasts were a sore point, literally

Heavy, full crotch

His sweaty horse balls heaved

He had a significantly larger than average penis, and felt he didn’t have to do anything special to her

She snacked upon his arse, before feasting on his horsecock.

He was a horse of limited circumstance

“I smell p****”

Why advertise the fact that you smell pissy?

To celebrate the arrival of a new wrap, he sniffed an abnormally large line.  Later he would sniff a similarly sized line to commemorate the gram

She was an ex-alcoholic which fortunately meant that she could still drink.  She wasn’t going to be a born again alcoholic

He doubled back to smell his gas, but it didn’t give up its secret easily

He greased his lamppost with bacon fat and entered her rather roughly, without a whisper of foreplay

She hoped the cubes of apple would attract him to her anus, as birds are attracted to a birdtable containing breadcrumbs. “You stereotype a horse” he thought as he grazed on it

SONG

“Jesus don’t want to clean his foreskin”

This wasn’t blasphemous – nothing in the bible suggested that Jesus’s foreskin was clean.  OY yeah, he didn’t have a foreskin.  Was he Jewish or something?  She thought he had been born in Saudi Arabia

This turned in to ‘Dirty foreskin blues’

-Well I woke up this morning

-I had dirt under my foreskin baby

-I think I’ll have to clean it

-With my wife’s toothbrush and soap

JOKE

What did Tim Wheeler say to his car insurer after an accident?

“Oh yeah, she was overtaking me…”

Betrayed for gold

Her vagina, to him, smelled as fragrant as fresh cut grass

‘Can you see me?” – Jimi’s poker song

Muffled whimper, then a yelp of pure joy

“At least it got a reaction”

“It did- now everyone thinks you’re a c***”

He hadn’e slept with anyone in ages, and was lacking match fitness

Her tits went south after childbirth – they flew to Argentina for the winter.  They were now screaming for worms.   Later they actually became firmer, standing up for themselves, and demanding worms promptly

He was what he called ‘exceptionally’ gay – he was pretty much str8 but would make an exception for a famous gay man.  He would do Michael Stipe for instance, or Freddie Mercury (before his death), partly to punish them for being gay.  Or Jake Shears.  Maybe even Stephen Fry…

If her paintings were her children, this one was a result of a quickie.  She felt dirty after completing a picture, as if she had been furtively masturbating

She wanted people of high class to stare at her work, nodding appreciatively.  A man would stroke his beard, his wife commenting kindly on the works’ rhythm

A friend had told her that her pictures were great when you were high.  She enjoyed this, and welcomed being the MF Doom of the art world.  That metal fingered bastard.

His erection chafed against his new horse underwear which had  been bought for him as a gift from his master’s wife.

HE CAME…

Waste

Polyester

Shampoo

Sawdust

Diarrhea

She disliked the foreskin as a symbol of male domionance over women through the ages.

Are there any black men in positions of authority here?

He noticed a string of cheese coming out of her arse.

God had struggled at mathematics at school, but excelled at English.  This disappointed God’s dad, who was a fine statistician.

She fed his hoof into her arse and then took it out, as clean as a whistle.

Emma was moulting, unusual for a horse.

He was upset and excited.  He had a lump in his trousers and jis throat simultaneously.

It was a bright Spring day in Autumn

“We use horses for food and for fuel”

JAmaisan raped by a broom handlr e at first?

MR MEN – Mr Europhile, the most politically aware mr man

What did the candle say? Get off my wick

What did the dog say? Get off my stick

Dog – woof. Woof.  Woof! WOOF!

Man – whats that, boy?

Dog – Master! My tail has become stuck up my own arse! What should I do, master, what should I do?

Man – Don’t worry, boy, I’ll yank it out

(muffled yelp of joy)

Dog – I love you, master

That was an expensive gas, as he had followed through

That night she broke the promise she had made to her father of his death bed never to take a horses cock in her arse.  She wrote the first chapter in her anal memoirs.

To chastise himself he would put the handle of a wooden spoon inside his urethra

So she couldn’t draw actual things.   Did anyone want to make something out of it?  She couldn’t do that either.

He did a difficult, stubborn brown

She bowed to her dolphin master

Jesus turned water into wine, but did he also do non-alcoholic drinks?   A fruit based drink for the lady?   Did his gifts go so far as to provide spitits?  Perhaps he could bestow spirits upon others as he was blessed in spirit himself.   “Oh. Sorry, Jesus, lager please, and a baileys for the wife.  No ice.  Three pounds thirty for the lager? Christ!  Any chance of a bowl of water for the dog?  Bar snacks?”

Nihilism meant nothing to him / her

Iain MC Banks

MC Iain Banks

MC Ken Loud

LEnneth MC loud

-I haven’t had relations in two years

-that’s nothing, I didn’t for 14

-when?

-ages 1-14

-That ciggy will take 5 minutes off your life

-7, actually, including the time it takes to smoke it

Ingual the horse is hungry – he’s had no hay again

HE was Liverpool thru and thru –if he was cut, he’d bleed red

He unfurled his trouser truncheon

Ohm – ni –bus

He had diced with death, literally.  They both rolled a four and, in the event of a tie, death had to let him go.

Faiths? All, including atheist

She was in a bad mood, and wrote and unduly harsh riff

She was trying to give up smoking using a system of rewards.  Her reward for not smoking would usually be a cigarette

He’d kill that horse in cold blood – he’d drown him in it

“Honey?  You’re coagulating again!”

She did it… for a reason

Well – established alcoholic

She would feed her child by allowing it to suck milk from her arse, thus saving her tits.

Spoons – business end as usual

Beethoven starts with a ‘C’

What does dr dre keep his records in ? Chronological order

What do schizophrenics and drunks have in common? 

An excess of spirits

He had been robbed of honour, of chastity, and of innocence and virtue.

He thought it was generous that they still found the time to cheer a poor opposition pass sarcastically despite being two goals down

His foreskin erupted in silk

SONG

I sprayed my mace anyway

Quite unnecessarily

He rolled around in pain

But that was OK

He had defrauded a swan

-Any advice?

-Never say ‘yes please ‘ to an alien horse or an alien fox.  Don’t drink poison.  Fear danger

“And what if I said I was falling in love with you, horse… all over again?”

-An outrageous embellishment

He had the horse flogged senseless

Custodian of hell

Yes, perhaps she had committed a slight breach of social etiquette by having a physical relationship with a horse

It wasn’t rape at first

So nelly hatched nevis the egg, which shot out of nelly’s arse when the time was right.   Nelly sat on the egg for 3 months, then Nevis pecked her way out.  Nevis the chicken was born! She was given a worm soon after

He had been usurped… by a horse

Time?  It’s all relative

-When I broke off in out frame of love snooker, I didn’t find baulk

-Our relationship is like an entertaining exchange of safety play which the knowledgeable crowd of the Crucible appreciate

-I didn’t find touch with my kick in our rugby game of love

-I’ve run out of position during a sizeable break of our love.  For the next shot of our love I don’t have my hand on the green baize

-I’ve taken the opportunity to go into your pack of love  but I haven’t been left on a red.

-Would you go down on a zebra for Jesus?

– I don’t know.  I guess Bono would.

-You may ask God one question

-God, what is art?

-Your face, my arse

She cut her hand accidently.  No problem – she would imbue the canvas with blood.  It was like the time she sank a double vodka and had the presence of mind to open her sketch pad before being sick

-I love you not

-I love you not, not

She had experimented with drugs while writing, and found that she would write with an identical style to writing sober.  But she would feel much better while she did it.

Even if she wasn’t concerned with him not resprecting her afterwards, he was certainly worried about it – she wouldn’t respect him in the morning due to his legendary lack of stamina.

-Why did John Lennon become a priest?

  -why?

-He didn’t like possessions

He suspected he was engorged, and that it was ast least a semi.

God! It was wet-  dirt was smeared in and around his anus

His stomach had more in common with 8 packs of the Nelson than with a 6 pack

God was an atheist as a child.   This was due to lack of self confidence, his father, God’s dad, thought.   Jesus, his son, feared crosses, and wouldn’t go near a hot crossed bun.

Why do Chelsea fans turn up at the last minute for matches?   Because their dads need to take them to the toilet

Why wasn’t the Chelsea match shown in the pub?  Chelsea fans aren’t allowed to drink yet

My guns are so nice they aim to please

She encouraged his foreskin to play with her tits.  They were small and mean.

SONG

Jesu, Jesu

Please wash your foreskin

With my cloth

In my sink

I’ll wash your feet

With a different one

A full quarter of an hour’s applause will be due to Englands World cup winning team, including subs.  What if a footballer wasn’t good enough to merit a full minute’s applause?  Would a few seconds do?   What about a really bad player?  Should he be roundly booed at his ddeath?

Jesus was sporting a mean, thin, bad-boy moustache on his upper lip

Me predict a shoebox, sha la la la, me predict a shoebox

Sha-la-la I love you Daddy!

He was pregnant with food, and would soon give birth.   The contractions had started, and he could feel the head poking out already.  He decided it was a female dirt.  ‘Congratulations’’, the doctors would say, ‘it’s a dirt’

‘Fuck off! I love you

-I love you! Fuck off

Dating rule – no skin contact on a first date

Rakim = natural aphrodisiac, Canibus = natural laxative

Dyslexic fishmonger – sold his sole 2 satan

She would compare herself to Hendrix: she wasn’t as good as him

What did nelly say to her broken tv?  “if you only had a guarantee…’ 

Her ass had gone downhill after childbirth – now it was grazing at the bottom of the field

The Kaka dirt – Quick and smooth

BAND NAMES

Anal Horsebox

That troublesome cove

Please sniff my arse

Maurice the excellently friendly alien

I killed Shergar

Trapped under rice (metallica covers band)

Gigadeth

Gimme the lute (mideavel ochestra)

Anal cheeseflap

It’s Gas

Vinegar horse

Tambourine

I love triangles

IT wouldn’t solidify

Eat my portion

She was drinking a bottle a day, but it was only a miniature bottle from a gift set from Boots.

She imagined Jimi Hendrix would be unconcerned at the relative potency of modern weed – he would simply get much, much higher

She pulled a tampon out of herself and harshly shoved it home with her fist – the final insult

He could count the number of gay experiences he’d had on the fingers of no hands

You cant see the ‘C’ like you’re landlocked

Hallucinogenic mushroom suppository

Forget the tits, she would put them straight on the ass.

He could put her a name to her face, but could he put her face to his arse?

What did the stick say to her then boyfriend?

-I’m a stick wit’ you

What did Hetfield say to his son who was practicind the guitar on a bad amp?  -Don’t take that tone with me

He remembered his first dirt as an adult well.   It was a greasy little affair.

Gas? Merely an anal exhalation, my friend 

Featured

Queens Jubilant Jubilee Discourse

Yeah. I think I I think I think…

i-think I think think they think i’m… man if I could get it together I could have got a couple of bags off the title. Oh absolutely sir. Wanna know the real truth? Keep writing, soldier. But this 4 now –((( you are the Earths best secret…keep it that way)))that’s bullshit, representing the UK in any way. My American buddies know about me, they were gonna gimme a little… thats right in a way, man, but, uh…

keep writing yeah…YEAH!?! 8) 8) 8) thats yours, your ….sorry….your invention, like the ”’think”’, thr DAH double artifivial harmonic, maybe? Oh, really the whole Apple prognosis, yeah, when u were driving to Sainsburys in Norwich…

hmmm…yh in my head…i remember a recall from the future? Uhh I thought like ”’all the songs in the world…in one place”’ well that happened, and, like Pantera, sure x

travelled as a thought from the 29th century, invented by myself in the…the…the…the…the future yeah

??Proof?? prove to who? Too much…

In England? You expect me to take what Anselmo, P. to court?

Whatever. Whatever yeah. We Want

GRAP Back. Back? My heart sinks like Buzzkill by Ash…i got a feeling…did some stupid greedy motherfucker steal the program? U want it back? I didnt know it had been aired in U.S.A. I knew it was on USSR Boxes because…what I cant tell the truth even only in my Mind Over, Even Only Here, on my Deeply Flawed Apple shit….oh………im getting hated, ppl didnt like it. So fucking what, dont look. Who? Were sorry we had to….

man vibes went with an enemy 4ever popping up

going 4 cig. Uhhhh….ask Taucetttttttyyyyy1.4767369472 because thats where it originated.

Need her? no…….oh……

**********stars are shining again*************because of our love***stars dont have 2 pretend now***stars are infinite, your bf is not.***settle down, starz******and learn a valuable lesson in Rog street politics…….what is that on your head, close to that green sphere, R?**********go stars****watch Im Like A Bird Vid*******************************relesased 1 june 2022 by Nelly Furtado, u dont like it? Uhhh ok ******but shes infinite and holds the key to our future, together with Rog OG etc, Fluffy***********************

*we saw the vid…doesnt she love herslf any more (can get that off Rog…love enough 4 both of us)

maybe…(its a setup I swear nothings this good and free

ILAB sw andra! Thats a lot of stars…when Nelly does it its ok 4 anda but not the Hubble…we dont like you looking as us, __________

awwww a good natured star region, a winning smile both beautiful and proper

thinking its What NF does, talk to suns (whos fucking toes are they?) I am still alive kind of u Can(()))bullshit In Me Only

killed maybe………and……..it……..starts……….allover again

Oh I Scored. Slept with her, literally

perhaps reward by her for a rousing version of Aint No Telling by Me but by Hendrix then

just then the magickal energy which was donated by myself was used against me, a glitch in the matrix, energy derived from ”’I cant live without you, you win”’ Her, I was lying down on my single bed…bed…

no the magix gone, but I got a date to marry Her…The first day of June 20lol and….

and she…a set up she warned…something pretended to be Ron Jeremy, after he exited stage magnificently, like Im Ron Jeremy and im done with this shit, dickhead stole the energy, then rapes your girl, sir, and mine, energy from Nelly, man, electric like how nf got started, dendrites

******goood shit more later 8)

8)

(or)

as my man TT would often exclaim..

ORRRR…..theres a man with genuine options within an unfriendly framework but still…..i dont feel I need to point out that I still love him.

not him or nelly At All ***

meanstar ppl! Choice! Like a choice goal….a choice sample of brie just when you thought cheese was an english invention, fictional….”’i ask you, snooks, where is my (weve got to visit rog again!) …(! ?) 8) were wasting our time, theres no dairy products of any circumstance here..

*a loose cheese is…what, forced? Makes me look weird but…thrust into Arthurs beautiful face…at first annoyed to be violated…then the anger subsides as he realise that it’s…Camambere! (Taxi for A?)

earth is fucked up, arthur, man, weve got to play GRAP against beatuiful Taurans being fucked up after being invited by the USA / UK

a- (got to go)

(not just about cheese u know… theres cricket too lol

and i’ll forego the kilo of merchandice in the name of honour, that is, unless its Rockforte, Rog 8)

were here to see you not him! Who?

Arthur exits and rog feels lonely and scared…rumours of ASAP GRAP…who’s holding it back?

A gift from arthur in the name of And’a’n vibes in the Corridor is all but spurned by R, who apologises…can And’a mechanisms truly be manifest on this crazy crazy rock we call Terra? Partly estrangad?

Not on your fucking life sob woof…cat eat…sob woofers…my dog must eat biscuits from a priceless heavily and discretely enammeled saucer…imagination machine( you use Me* as)…ive got no imagination due to shalalalala brain da…no, you’re not upsetting me…is it because I prefer Tau Ceti? 8( sometimes, yeah. I dont…i feel…i need a councillor. A’a, you know its weird how I cant talk to…oh by all means impose…Buzz…Fucking…Kill

cant talk to anyone about this, talk with the blablabla *so what? Were doing this for our benefit (who is this? Think some ppl jus wanna be part of my would be code, well it must be ‘cos u can’t read it…Boring? Me?

A reality test 4 sure is coming up…on a banana shaped lozenge weighing approx One Ounce…oh of course of

im tired, quite a compliment to u that my pseudobrain cant cope…describe my day? Yeah OK…ohhhh but would it be too fucking boring yes probably my day a typical sample of OK… i’m going 4 a cig Outside im im allowed ****security protocol 1443 – a nonce in an elevator***

…dont use the lift. If im allowed to go outside At All honestly ive been part of creating an interesting vibe

(and which Rog r u today?

That’s fair but how would I know?

Moods of a Paranoid Schizo with Psychosis, Autism, Depression and…Alien shit in the Junk DNA? Woof.)

We want to be with you too

me too

G shit is fucked up

rog is boring due to CH niknaks/tictacs joke which compressed two jokes into one or 3 in 2…FM? They argued…………………………………………………….they say…………………………………………………….that if u did this, the…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….for a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnggggtime…….need to balance something to make a purchase, wont impress flush, son…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….wedge the shit homey…………u was gonna say why……………..not why not but why……………..……….orrrrrrrr…***************************************************************************i need help ASAP********************************…….in the name of dw……..hmmmmmmmmma stoic defence of mankind and then some? Nah del…or u r off on transylvania malarky? Whatever…u hear that from Pompey? Yes? I hope u do and sympathise this dude is truthful and mad, copy? Yo if u on …lol sides again RMF, lyrical? Hmmmmmmmmmmm these things take time (yo…some mad wigga manifest in corner chair…we not ba’al we african americans?…powder blue eyes, white then black skin..Oh u from Haiti? Man…my fuckin teef hurt, is that haiti or Timmy? Either way….

Oh, I was described as a talented rapper by one of my favourite rappers, praise is nice from someone you uhhh…respect 8) one of the nicest ever *more and windy bag back ok no?

Buuuut this shit…too much of a threat to my person…i understand why they always on about ”’never go outside again”’ yeah ok what u gonna send smokes from And’a? Hmm..oh actuallty yes its in your relationship with staff file?/ criticising my social skillz? Oh talk FM or PL

(that was sadio mane being chased by an elephant btw…Mane…my uh opinion? Good song by Nirvana but thats just opinion I guess…………..i feel completely fucked and yeah after the would-be performance I get…not…fuck, im fighting to survive At All, dude does it for heart, pride and honour. If he ever became an ant I think he’d get on well. But then I put him on the board of dgwf and he sadly failed to satisfy all consumers, sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo maybe he’d…dunno. Man I didnt grow up in a yh whatever We Did in a hood of Queens some of us Oh Rappers…an olde friend covers eyes and laughs ”’nnnnnoooo!!!!”’ just quit that rap shit and write about animals like ….yeah I must have overlooked many (in a hood u mean? (we just want to be involved in your life, writing etc, sorry* oooorrr….))hmmmmmm) man sounds mutually beneficial….share this: I beat Canibus in a Battle. Nobody…man, ask Chuck D…funny, u say the name and a hybrid zulu with a laptop chucks a spear at me from across the way……………………………………………………………….oh my man says that this hospital has the lowest recovery level in the entire County (state ish) and…man…uh…Ma (?) uhhh wheres my Paper? Oh What A Carve Up 8(

8( disattisfied with HB (was it hb or roger f”) dont matter you’re the best in the World right now…at this style of style manns

wanna be involved in my life, not necc. my attempts to do anything of course…Oh u mean Life? Man…oh I thought..seeing…man im soooooooooooooooooooooooo tired of fighting ppl…things, stars, galaxies (TALK TO GALAXIES TO BE…NOW outside with a Fag , with Whitehouse etc….OK? Uhhh that’s fair)

*****ffffffffffffuuuuuuucccccckkkkk******

a trap? I should know, I got caught in a FoxTrap Equivalent

went outside thru reception, like the travelling Testaverdis, outside with my customary cigarette, smoked adjacent to fierce No-Smoking signs with less than normal comfort. You see, it windy and cold, I went to renew relationship with P.Salt, he was messed up, everything was wrong, neither of us were high, …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………woof! Wait 4 c reaction 8) wd

Featured

Further Reminders of Our Future (equivalent of a Bonus Feature)…bonus is a funny word, sounds like bone us, like slutty women would think or say. Anyway, I typed this up.

Man…

MUSIC

yeah. This is gonna take a while. Was just thinking the problem with Music is Musicians. Mosaicians? Most musicians probably couldnt get a mosaic together, neither physically in mosaic form, like The Snooks could and can. Oh, or a musical mosaic? Few could, dunno, like

Jimi Hendrix or …man…i mean is it just complexity, like layers, so rappers could never mosaic because of the comparative simplicity of the beats?

Music? Rap like I was saying seems an easy, logical start, but I dont want to do it, and im not, for various reasons. It’s…spiteful and I never got anywhere despite trying hard, ended brutally exploited justified by hate, hate, as far as I can see, because I was putting my shit out for free.

Aaaaaaand for other reasons, man, any excuse to hate Rog, Horsebox being another. I didnt start a Music chapter to talk about my own stuff anyway, but I guess its the start of a new book, I got a few ideas already / anyway / should it be an autobiography? A self-penned great work? Like they all aren’t? This book writing sure dont pay well, I got steam on MacOS but cant afford the Beta of FM2022 so…yeah, u tell, u see im honest when I say I got no money. Its other ppl, got your own money, great, u got my money, less great, like in Rog Inc. for example, Gra and Germaine? A telling duo, telling fibs more like, calling my mum a liar types. They are very similar, hunt in pairs, I heard germ hates gra more than he hates me, so…why do they work in tandem?

Canibus used as a reward for R by G?

Fuck

Music? Shit. My taste? ‘eclectic’ like everyone nowadays. My faves u can read on ‘The Green List’ by me, but man, whats the point writing about something the reader cannot experience? Either my perspective as I listen to music, or even your own, listening to music your own way? Thats the thing being from The 28th Century, being stranded, lost in Time in the past, with Neanderthal Fakes.

I guess if u read this on your sexy sleek machine it could have the option of you listening to the songs, which is a start.

——-interlude——-

“What a bloody nightmare for England, then, as we run out of money completely, Chancellor”

(CROMWELL, O.)

—–”Will MPs be taking a voluntary pay cut, to show willing, in this time of poverty?”(q by me)

Muffled answer – (£100,000 doesn’t go very far )

its always annoyed me that the PM position is a Job, a Job like any other, may as well be a Graduate position, like MI5 (oh here we go) (you’re the new cromwell(do u accept/)its opinion, im the new Lots of Things, but of course respect Oliver Cromwell. I could be PM? No I couldn’t, not from this position, to say I, RMF, the Roger F, the Lyrical, should be Prime Minister and it all makes sense is a different story. ‘Should’ is a strange word. Like theres blame attached, at least when youre down like me, have had a few beatings , though none physically while conscious, to quote Necro (musician, Jew, Pimp, entrepreneur)

“I never got fucked up by anyone my own age, ever.”

but then he grew up in Projects somewhere in New York, and I grew up the Wrong side of Worthy Road if I wanted a Crew or a Hood, or if I wanted any friends at all where shit is like Rog is a spoilt rich kid. Yo, In real time, like the FBI arent watching me, I respect that, I hope they respect me, clearing my name being synonymous with exposing Liars and frauds, man, you’re gonna have to accept that Rog, aka LoveMushroon aka RogLozenge aka Horsebox, is the epitome of American Values. Sure, its easy to type that when the FBI are (hi! How can we help? You want help with my files?) I was Never Your Enemy. Oh, yeah, apart from then. Whatever. I feel calm, mature, measured, cool, tempered, but for some reason I keep thinking about Alanis Morissette. Perhaps she is a Spy? Was she the one from New York with the big tits who I spoke to and we got on really well, the one who I thought was Tom Araya out of Slayer’s Wife? Spirit In Black.

Vapebreak (I smoke Ice Queen)

g tastes defeat, I can tell 🙂

“this time its epitome”

and says hes proud of me

fuck off, gra-ndma pretend

dont pretend its a personal battle anew, brotherfucker, sisterfucker, earthfucker, motherfucker.

What do you accept defeat as or was? At ? Get off my page.

“i am disappointed in my brother for telling the truth”

and?

“and for hiding the lies in his life between clenched teeth…as I enter his body again and again. Thats all. Think Long and Hard about it”

quote from Graham Francis

see what I mean?

Its a voice in my head, the quote, same as Cromwell.

Didnt that just stop me Dead?

Nothing should get punished for merely trying to survive

attempting to

avoid pain

or not

depends, but im big on morality

most deities are. Taucettti, would you? Imbed? Or not, cool, oh, her, yeah. Youre in shit for torturing me. Lots of things are, though.

This is Music, that shit I wrote, to me. Beautiful. Until Gra turned up. Then it was more like love being raped by a reptile. Love being Raped? Yknow, love itself, as an essence, a thing, being penetrated forcibly,

I can feel him

not this time, rapist, thers too any ppl tho u love an audience, check your email bro!

As I laugh and FBI and CIA too

“you can keep england. Im off to ? That wasnt a quote”(G)

I get a headache and he says its what he controls my mum with. I knew. Monster. Arrest him, PM

or will he Kill Again I USA, Letwin?

Then he says I duped him into believing im better than him, he appears as a USA Bluff, SMA controlled, sodomises me so I can feel it from 40 inches away, I feel it go it, then my tap turns on I my bathroom and he says Kill Yourself, Go On

I thought you might stop. G-Rape

im gonna call a friend. No, not pete, who u fucked up me old china.

China.

Eard u dont like pandas

did the music stop? Man….

We could have Peace…i was fucking writing about music, now its like shit chess. Im down, you would be too.

England is as good as dead, allowing this to happen. Does g work for Intelligence? Even then? Is he a fake doctor? A rapist? Hmmmmm

letwin ”’says”’ he rapes like a granny.

Letwins a cunt, too

Paxman is the soundest authority on me, I think, the best Rog Knowledge, thats why some cunt fucked his head up, please some ALIEN WHO LOVES ROG CURE HIM AND….yep there…AND SLAP GRA,

my right eye hurts…u ok paxo?

ALIENS POTENTIALLY CURE EVERYTHING, BUT ONLY THRU ROG, IF HES TREATED WELL, WITH R PERMISSION

chess?

Fool’s Mate in None.

Featured

Hard Truth, then Hilarious Prison Stories

Channelled by littleandromeda

The (partially rejuvinated) ‘Ipcress’ ‘Filez’ (Hard then Easy, Great, thx R 🙂

by Sir General E-Azzhad born Triplicate Sunz III , Jr.

1,024 descendents

Channelled by Roger Francis (why do I get nervous even channeling?)

FYI this is an order from Andromeda, to Print this. To Me.

On littleandromeda.com, link to twitter…even FB! Oh what damage.

I might get into shit here, but…oh, it’s Fiction, then, like how Earth Treats The Rest Of The Universe, ‘specially.

Andromeda Hates Graham Francis, 98.2 of The Universe Does, too. And Loves Rog, Rog Sooooooooo Ugly, Graham says, should be locked up for life…really, all the things rog thinks about g is true but the denials are believed, g’s doctor is his mum.

Obsessed with Roger, jealous, Gay.

Roger’s so-called ‘Brother’

He should know better, Aged 50 or is it 49 Becky?

Earning £250,000 per year At Least, but when Rog (me/us/him) criticised him for never helping him, Gra-ndma tried to turn him into a |Terrorist, angry to find that Rog, me/us, was already treated like a Terrorist by Powers, ask rog, man, he says he’s been getting tortured by Most intelligence agencies (the closest any earth org. is gonna get to the Most Intelligent now, mostly because of ? (whatever name you think of is probably true, or at least involved.) mostly ‘cos of Graham and his mates veering around London, calling each other ‘blasphemers’ and Rog…get this….ugly, rapist, Nonce, bastard, spoilt, terrorist, spod, virgin, tinydick, mummys boy, multiple-sex-offender-with-family and get this, they say he had sex with Gra, Rog paying, pleading with G to be near him.

That’s not all. Look up Graham Francis on Google. He is the one who works for the Civil Service, job casually called football, tv, internet and sex, all of which G has has ‘issues’ with. Sure.

Roger has many times claimed G has abused him.

Just publish it

on li’l? Ok?

Yes?

Oh, by the way, like RHCP say, none of the things Graham says about R are true. I hope he reads this. In fact, they are more applicable to ‘Him’ 😦

Sorry, ‘cress, keep it light, Francis, thats the one.

Part One

“now…where shall I begin? With the one where Timmy goes off for lunch break but never returned? Or the one about Rog who never seems to know where he’s going? Or the time Timmy got lost in an elevator near Hebrides, Aberdeen, Scotland, and never really got back?

Two of these are false, but not the one about Rog! Or Timmy, the first one anyhoo. The second one is false, but Timmy did get lost once, on a plane! Or was that Japan? No. On with the story. The one where Timmy goes off for lunch and never came . For which I blame you, Rog! For Timmy’s freedom tho’ it hurts I know he’s free, thanks to rog and in no small part the congressman of Massachusetts I thank you.

Now here goes – once, when Timmy was small, about 8 foot 5, he became involved in an incident called the Ipcress Project. Shortly after, he became my best friend, and remains so.

Did I tell you the one about where Timmy got lost and swore his name was Clarence? For a whole year he swore it, even is writing it as his official name in bible class, which Timmy hated, once throwing the bible out of the window and onto a parked car.

Lets introduce myself, I am Ipcress, so known because of my infatuation with The Ipcress Files. I needed a moniker, like half of B Wing already had, and so the name stuck. Have I told you how many times I have watched the rare cinematic treat AKA The Ipcress Files? Over 300. More likely nearer 500. It gets better every time I watch it. I can do a passable impression of Michael Caine. Believe me, it’s more than passable. It had Timmy in hysterics a hundred times, literally a a hundred. Count them. One hundred. One. Hundred. Thousand Million people is how many these stories go out to, via Rog telepathy, and I hope you enjoy them.

For I have a hundred stories about Timmy Time, which I wrote in three earth seconds but Rog seems to have difficulty keeping up with

1 – Where Timmy vacated his room for another room and got confused

basically, Timmy moved cell and cellmate and called him Ipcress for nine months, annoying both me and him, and Timmy’s warder, named Stanley. Stanley was very fair to us I must say. A Negro. Except for this one time, when he kicked me and Timmy out of our cell, on to the street almost (we wish) in order to inspect the cell for narcotics. He didn’t find any, because Timmy had hidden them in the fridge (remember that, Timmy?)

Anyway, Timmy was confused because a – he didn’t pay attention to that type of things and b – he was brain damaged by narcolepsy…or was it his junk habit? Anyhow, things were sorted out by the middle of 1983.

2 – when Timmy got kicked out of his cell and got moved to another cell, for frequent drug use

basically, Timmy got kicked out because he was smoking hashish so much the jailers couldn’t see him when they entered the cell. He was smoking so much In fact that the jailers couldn’t ignore the fact that he was getting started to get a little paranoid of jailers constant ‘threats’ to move him out. Then they moved him out. This annoyed Timmy so much that he swore he would never smoke hashish, which he didn’t until the next day, when he smoked hashish in a bong. He claimed it never had tasted sweeter. Now the next day, the warder came in and found a bong in the muddle of the floor, which was confiscated with immediate prejudice. The bong became legendary as Timmy’s bong, because of the amount of resin in the mouthpiece.

3 – when Timmy got kicked in the chin for mouthing off to officials during NFL games on TV

basically, Timmy got narked for swearing it was a line call that wasn’t. And clearly wasn’t. In his opinion, there never was a line call to be had. And when Timmy swore, it wasn’t a timid “oh shit”, it was a full tirade that the Negro staff swore they hadn’t heard the likes of since at least the late 1940’s, maybe earlier. And the Negro staff swore they never liked him more than when he did that, in particular swearing that ‘old lady time’ , and he would put it, was a ‘whore dressed in a tracksuit which contained little more than her diseased and never-to-be-used-again ‘flange” , which Timmy of course used euphemistically for vagina.

4 – when Timmy nearly got kicked out of his dressing room at school, in Andromeda, in 1847 B.C. equivalent.

Basically, Timmy told this one so many times, I know it off by heart, almost. One of my seven hearts. So there. Did I tell you I will live for like 20,000 Earth years? Not on Earth. That’s what the master plan is. Anyway, Timmy nearly got kicked out of his dressing room in maths class, for being late in English and PE. Surprisingly English, yes, for it was and still Is a universal language, one that Timmy never quite mastered , but that’s one for another story. So Timmy , real name Ykzorrly Zewalken III (almost) , failed to attend yet another class, so got put on report. Age 9, equivalent to 1,400 earth years. Timmy found out and got so narked that he held up the PE teacher, with his bare hands, and put him on the top rung of the ladder, so he couldn’t escape. Then he tied his hands behind his back and made him squeal for mercy. Then he kicked him in the face and swore ‘that’s it, I’m never coming to this school ever again’. And he never did. In fact, he got sent to a special school where they trained fighter pilots, which is where we can say it all went wrong for ‘tidy’ Timmy Time, and his time on earth.

5 – when Timmy came down so hard he promised his Mother, on both his and her life that he would never touch heroin again (at least not dirty Earth heroin, as he said at the time)

Basically, Timmy did so much heroin that week in 1984 that the whole wing had to shut down its maternal supplies to pregnant aliens who were supposedly giving birth that week. His binge lasted from 1 A.M. on Friday until 2 P.M. the following Thursday. He didn’t sleep one second. I know, I checked. I was his cell mate (for 23 years) and I swore blind he’d never recover. He spent three whole WEEKS freaking out that he’d never see his mum again, as he was imprisoned falsely on Earth, and that he would NEVER take heroin again, on his own mothers life. The next week he injected heroin again, and his first words after shooting up were “Stand up mother, and be counted!”. I remember because he was sitting right next to me on the chair, shooting up heroin as casually as he ever had done before. The next day he wept tears of sympathy, perhaps of guilt as the last of his heroin was calmly poured down the sink, by me. I am proud of that , and I never got him heroin again, until the next day, when he asked me to score for him. I was his best friends, and what else are best friends for? Of course, he took it as an excuse to shoot up more heroin than ever before, in an heroic attempt to get as high as possible, which meant yet another week freaking out, this time with old Timmy thinking his poor mother was dead by now, which, looking back at it with rose tinted glasses, she probably was dead, Timmy, and it’s time you dealt with it properly. Get a councillor, as Rog wisely suggested, via his TV (sorry Timmy x from all of us in B Wing, get well soon)

6 – when Timmy did so much acid he thought his stomach was revolting against him

Basically, Timmy did A LOT of acid in the late 60’s, thinking it was perhaps way out of earth forever. It wasn’t. It was, however, his downfall and for several decades after, he got flashbacks that, I understand, affect Rog, perhaps via his telekinetic link to old tt. Now, when Timmy did acid, he was often so happy for several hours that he would literally cry with love, a ‘cry of love’ as he called it. Until he came down, and then it wasn’t real anymore, then he would cry with frustration at it not being real, until he came up again, normally on purple haze, then he would cry with laughter all night, sounding just like a lunatic from a mental ward somewhere, which of course he was.

When he thought his stomach was revolting against him he was not tripping out, he was sober and looking as his ‘fine’ stomach which was in fact very muscular, as strong as ten men he said, until someone tested him by punching him, hard, which made Timmy bend over double and swear he’d pay the motherfucker back. Which he did, in fact he killed him, in the shower. Bad blood. They had an argument way back which lasted centuries. To consider this, you need perhaps to be from Andromeda which we all are (on B Wing) apart from Rog (a Human-ish Telepath) who is Channelling my words may I say at a slow rate. But he’s the only one who can do it. When this shit is finished, I want it to go out public domain, but of course Rog wants to publish it, so I’ll never find it. My Pen Name? Sir E-Azzhad born Triplicate Sunz III , jr.

Now to finish it, then take a break. We have all summer, Rog. And just as well, the rate you’re typing! Lol! Get it? 🙂

anyway, Timmy did so much acid that summer of 1969 that he became violently ill, and sicked up so much acid, he retched for like 48 hours at least, and then was sick a little bit, into a medicinal bowl. The doctor examined it, and swore it was a bit like ‘a new alien life form’. It was immediately confiscated and examined by the Chief Medical Officer at Boston, Massachusetts, where it was pronounced deceased at birth, from Timmy’s stomach.

7 – where Timmy got so ill he swore he had cancer of the left breast

basically, Timmy got fear off a bad bong one afternoon and became convinced that he had cancer, despite apparently (he had it checked out) being immune from it. He got fear immediately after having the bong, but, after having it checked out, became convinced that he had cancer of the left breast that couldn’t be detected yet. His worst fears weren’t confirmed when the tests came back negative.

THE END (for now)

love, Ipcress

and Rog

8 – where Timmy became really boring about stuff

basically, timmy became reallly boring about stuff where Rog was concerned.He would, and I do not exaggerate, spend between one and three hours every day tslking about Rog, like what’s he doing, whats he thinking, hows he getting on in England, is he truly free, etc. And, in between that, spending at least six! Hours a day, at times, worrying about Rog, when he had a Bad Day, wondering what he could do to prevent it ,was he responsible, should he just abandon Rog, especiallly as Rog told him just to leave him alone on a Bad Day, to get as far away as possible etc. All this was really boring, until NOW when I finally am in the presence of Rog, finding him to be the Soundest Guy On The Planet (!) (thanx ‘Cress!) But all that was really boring, yeah

9- when timmy went to hell (with Rog)

basically, timmy went to hell with Rog he swore every day for a year. He blamed Rog at first, claiming he was responsible for the Hell he feels at the moment. Now, as I understand, Rog has a’Hell Mode’ instigated by the Culture, Tauran Torturers (tho \Rog generslly loves taurans), and whoever from the Government is givingh him Voices or whichever covert operation is, whether they are from Harrogate, Halifax, Malta, or Israel, Or in fact Crete, as Rog claims.

Timmy was tortuted by the FBI for years, he claimed, simulated drowning, presented as games, which timmy loved to play” (Game!) (“Play!”)

Part 2

When Timmy was four he went to academy school to be a sailor among the stars, my friend. That was where it all began to go wrong for him. You see, Timmy got high one day and went to school still high and Timmy failed at math. Badly. And then failed at science class – it was so funny as I remember timmy saying at the time. You see by the time it got to science class timmy was so high off alien acid equivalent that timmy passed out in the arms of his teacher, who passed him on to the nurse, who guessed he was tripping out – you see she was a very experienced nurse compared to the inept ones you have on earth – but I digress – of course if I may call rog francis a motherfucker one last time for stealing my best friends heart and eventually rescuing him all the way back to Andromeda – the nurse played mind games with timmy and found him very skilled and funny and recommended him to the board for immediate promotion, which he got , by the skin of his teeth as I believe earthlings say, after yet again coming to school high – should I digress again, master? Fro for who is the master of myself, Ipcress? Noone. Except of course Timmy Time, before rog stole his him which I still blame rog for – you stole my best friend on earth you see rog, and that is almost unforgivable. Now eh where is my best friend? In space I hope, or dead? I hope not/. I understand Rog who I am assured I can call my friend of which I am rightfully proud – talks to my home galaxy th ru his tves which I found doubtful until I experienced it, thru his eyes one sunday afternoon – remember that, rog? No of course you dont = and of course it will be ipcress tuesday or was it midnight til one and beyond every day or night, Rog? For I want it even if you dont and ive got nothing better to do at all = or is it another famous rog one off? You tell me, Rog. Nw Now. I dont know, ipcress, thats what he said, once again in a telepathic sense, as I worry about splitting the proceeds from this potential book straight down the middle, in the name of Timmy Time, its what timmy would want which rog assured me would always work, isnt that right rog? PS it was Iron Maiden and ive got to go to sleep now isnt that right, daddio? Peace. Rog. May we continue this tomorrow night or is it a one off in which case I may as well stay up………………………………………………………………………………………………….. five minutes later…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….cousin Rog? Ive just been to the galaxy of Andromeda for twelve years in the space of three seconds!!!!!!!!!!! And I have you to blame, geddit? And credit / thank. I would have stayed longer, possibly forever like our erstwile friend timmy time, were it not the case that Rog would possibly nay probably get in trouble with the FBI innit

*ipcress signs out

Featured

‘Freestyle Champion’ Original Lyrics by Roger Mark Francis

Yeah. After all this time lol. I found the original lyrics to Freestyle Champion. I wrote it while in Mental Hospital, the Brain Jail. Yeah, don’t do nothing bad or you’ll get sent to Head Prison. That is, if you’re Caucasian. I think if you are a Negro it’s normal and you get on with it. With Life. In all my days in hospital I’ve seen only two Negros. This dude in a wheelchair, I gave my lighter to him. The other one was in Basingstoke PICU, this dude…I accidentally broke his Guitar. Sorry dude!Freestyle Champion Original Lyrics by Roger Francis

“Could you make ya’ neurotransmintters hurry up and click?

to reach the decision I already decided on

it’s not about the money, cars, bitches

I don’t need em son I ain’t even got none

but I got certificates to prove i’m not mad

whether this is getting iller

while you’re trying to prove you have the equivalent of Schizophrenia on the Mic

all you prove is that

its not about the love either

I don’t need a crowd an audience to witness

‘just as well’ I hear you say

and I am just as well

26thSeptember you rely on it

just as well as fair in my near infinite wisdom

i’ll say I forgive you man, I probably won’t

to clear it up i’m the one you pray to when you ask for forgiveness

can you forgive this?

In his near-Herculean displays of semi or more than fairness

Minor Deity Shit

I forgive God and get sent for my sins to heaven

not joking where i’m from is like a Hendrix cover

South Saturn Delta, actually i’m from the East, then,

not purple haze more like bluey-green

I see my home planet in dreams

modern concepts that in a competition you’d be willing to wait a couple of minutes for me to remember

your Utopia more like Conetticut

if I give you fifty percent shares in our conversation I lose several billion

why you complainin’?

Aliens hit me off with things you cannot fathom

they write the whole album and tell me to write one

about Neil Armstrong…

he was getting tortured by The Moon

if he was European he would barely have made fuckin’ U.S. News

possessed the spirit of a tiger in Germany

offed one you blame a feline hungry and in captivity

came round to mine for a few hours we watched ESPN

put his legacy on the Presidents team and to my surprise they won

yeah I know but there’s a semi Siberian Cat-Being missing his Son

word gets back to his home planet that’s the case, son

as I dress in leather and get done for self effacement

skin of a cow legacy an chased Jesus off the Cat’ Ground

He didn’t bring any Cider to the Cipher and he got partially eaten by a Mechanical Spider

Spinning Multidimensional Webs attracting ya Time Flies, boy

it don’t when you’re in near solitary for thousands of Centuries

guarded by thousands of sentries

get Sky and get threatened during Prime Time

don’t get at me man, I know this shit don’t rhyme

just ‘cos someone gets robbed by a horse after Half-time equine alcoholic only wanted cheese and wine

Military Personnel getting anxious about Caffeine Levels sayin stuff about dying

Fuck It, i’m callin’ it Freestyle Shit, pop ur shit at a similar level same time without dryin’

battle shit spent I wonder where my anger went

Maybe i’m In Love or something…

I need to be around Women if only for the Discharge and ‘heaven scent’ Yeast Infections

Cobain dies at Twenty-Seven and asks me ‘What’s the difference?’

my voices are telling me to write about chemical influence

the voices are saying i’m so ill my voices tell me I don’t get voices

choices and vices

chances you end up handcuffed to handcuffs handcuffed to something obvious are obvious

just like you I had my chances

the Presidents Wife thinks Sick Spirits come to Earth to be Born, on a side note

traditional truant with a persistent sick note

as I lie in bed til whenever fuckin’ I want

I wonder where it, (the instinct) went

as always I blame the Institution to a certain extent

Life’s an Institution as much as the works of Heidegger or Kant

spirits dig Earth but when they Die they can’t leave it

until I absorb significant amounts of negativity

someone lucky gets the other side of it, I think she’s called Nelly Furtado, Man (!)

positive thoughts get to escape and rejoin the rest of the galaxy

tough time for Homeboy, but the stars are different, ask Brian May

depressives are healers for their soul twin

i’m going negatively off point but I can’t emotionally reciprocate, then again

the Human Voice is so Foreign it causes pain

we’re all Aliens to Aliens but Earth’s not shared, not theirs, its ours

that’s what we think about the Internal Intricacies of the nearest Coloniseable Cluster, Anyhow

So Peace to Tau Ceti, Thank God, Yo, I’m Out.”

Written by Roger Mark Francis, 2012

Performed by Horsebox as ‘Freestyle Champion’, available on Horsebox, ‘Iller Than Illness Plus

The Worst Person In This World

A liar decides the truth. It is waiting for to See You In Court, already well passed the “leave and I won’t press charges” it smiles at the phrase. Phrases like Leave Me Alone, Go Away, Fuck Off, and similar are recognised as Call To Arms and are treated as Engage phrases, like we would? I say we because of the paranoid schizophrenia link and voices I know it’s not just schizophrenics that get voices but Those Phrases are things people who are being Raped would say out loud in their head, verbally or screaming, I’ve heard personally…but I digress. Ask any Rape Victim…a rapist would want the victims to repeat the same experience forever or getting worse and if allowed to do it, probably will. Evidence? Exactly, there is none except the victims word, and likesay the victim doesn’t want to go to court, wants to be left alone, suicidal, you hear of these things, Go To Court and relive the experience this time in front of our family, get me, it’s the nightmare one where the Offender personally asks the questions and it’s like What Type Of Rape was it? That’s like…It’s So Cold, the case is leaning towards null, the fact you have to…in my head it went ‘’’ I Can’t Rape Him Legally ‘’’ I mean ffs should Trigger Alarms and it’s like… yes he gives off signs of being….what…a rapist who gets away with it

you got someone in your head too? I’m coming from a Mental Illness angle, where words are not believed, everyone is Wrong all of a sudden, beyond recognised means…remember that… ok well it’s a definitive definition of the psychiatrist favourite, telepathy, it’s like well telepathy the ability to communicate beyond recognition means, cool, all my buddies are thinking, like voices that don’t go cold anymore, buuutt when I/we get violated often when there’s nobody there, it’s a contradiction? Getting a Smug Grin from a Reptile, there’s no proof. Uses recognised means to access, then do whatever it can and there’s no proof, beyond recognition in that way, using vital channels of everyone to well Rape, suppressing evidence, tele is great sometimes, a 6th sense , its like magic, like on Star Trek where they go to a cool planet and get voices from the green potential allies, not from the green Troi doesn’t smoke then lol voices are like We Don’t Communicate Verbally unless we have to, unless it’s necessary, not like smug well-to- reptile, disgrace to man. Like the…on and on the sound of your own voice must sooth you, hi JH,

considering legal Acton? Against who? Like got legal..

Whyever would You be worried? Guilt being legal and emotional? Whoever reads this? It’s the principal, you’ll notice no names, this is exactly proof kind of…

if this…what … things are freedom, life itself, an aberration, to quote Chuck D, With Some Of Then Looking Just Like You

Freedom to Rape??? Must invent laws???

This , yeah well likesay from a I’ll perspective where Illness is not a compliment.. yes I am compliant, yes you can ask about it, the accidental deletion of 15 years of medical records so they…ask away, I’m not hiding, this is not anonymous as such, Yh compliant with meds so my Schizo Army including Autists, a rare diagnosis I know, what’s Wrong With Rog? We have lots of labels

Yh I feel threatened etc I dunno….is something threatening me? Victim Gotta Prove it

yeah u can read this in court, like Heat by 50 cent. Treat as Evidence for the Victim or not whatever. Considering legal Acton? Maybe it’s about You

or not.

Why have we got cable very suddenly?

Me and My World, thanks for asking

you wouldn’t believe this

Sooooooo…….something gets paid for me to be raped, someone or something actually pays England for me, R, to be violated, almost all ways beyond recoginsed means, which probably gives them a buzz seperate from what they get from violating me, my mind, soul, so they ben…who does this? you may ask, im used to that, i dont now whether to be brave and possibly foolish for my guess it’s some Cunty MP who is secretly Minister Of Information and get by on pity or people who know im right. Maybe i could survive by proving it. i mean…its difficult to prove you are being tortured through the medium of my TV…why do i have to prove it?

Back in the day, you know, like when it wasn’t embarrasing to be English which it is…it’s like blame the victim politics. Honestly yeah they act like that, ‘they’ yeah, and assume the characteristics of The Culture, ‘always bully the bullied’, ‘always blame the victim’ so when i point out that it’s unlikely to be me, and them…yeah…(‘Culture being an invention of Iain Banks, is SF)

but i digress….my point? Lies, man. They are lying, i’m not. Few Paranoid Schizophrenics do, yes i am, thanks. My point is that my fellow schizos are tortured to such an extent that suicide is the only (excuse?) option, and…excuse? Man whoever is representing that bullshit should have little to no power, especially over the vunerable …people…oh drugs are sometimes effective, yeah, Medicine for the Brain i call drugs, at least when im high, which i am, no drugs either, i mean recreational or performance enhancing drugs, you know, the type which is routinely banned from Sport…performance…enhancing….anything…can we take it? literally lol Can We Take It, reminds me of Nas / Sepultura with your hands out for my money, like how much can i take? / can u take it?

Let them take it, aww c’mon just a bit of Whizz, see us right, rumour says that the majority of the Front Row are Bombing a conservative amount of Billy, back when it wasn’t linked with having No Mates, it just makes the routine affordable, like…amphetemine…huh i recall, remniscing, when i bombed a reasonable amount of billy with a friend and talked shit all night but it was more a monologue from Homeboy. Got some decent dialougue, some in word form, crafted with some guile i must say, formed the basis of ‘You Be Talking Shit’ from ‘To Blag A Safe Forever’ by Ostravious who is not my Pen Name. At……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….At……………………………………….Fucking………………………………..All…………

life is a performane, man, oh i saw Homegirl In The Mental Hospital recently, i thought i did, in Mixed Ward, not saying where or her name, but she looked fucked up, all aggro and bad teeth, challenging the girls like “Bring it, Bitch” yeah she shouted with ‘The Matrix c’mon’ with her fingers. Fucking horrible very often in the Mental Hospital…who is in charge? Nobody knows who The MP For Mental Health is, well there isn’t one…fair play…maybe there should be, maybe someone like me? Nah noone like me…We desparately need union, solidarity, theres so much common ground, more and more ppl are nuts….lol…yes i am getting tired…you can tell…..but this writing exists…i know homie, maybe you think it shouldnt, maybe thats Freedom of Thought, like how R says, anyway its a decent outro with phall (?) from the Thought Police earlier to…who knows…maybe…you’re so vain i bet u think this is about you (song) actually u so mad (insane) you probably think that this is about you! Well it is, kind of, sometimes affinity is rare, u agree with my sentiment, i welcome the support. Maybe all Mentally Ill should Strike, too (strike two?), Sadly we would display our displeasure about our treatment by refusing meds? Hmmmmm

Motivate, motivate, y’all

Medicate, medicate, y’all

Oh…you know how Extra Terrestrials think the same thing and it pops up in your non-mechanicle head? Word Spreads…sometimes the only reason to write, play, rap, sing, etc is because you know that ET’s routinely monitor the…and there it goes!…the internet……….they are desperately ‘concerned’ about the Plight of ‘The World”

“What are you selling?” thats what they communicate to me. Huh my head got removed from my body. this happens a lot, results in less life for me, makes me ‘Think’ about ”God” cos it is Communication Beyond Recognised Means, a rather abrupt communication, u lucky lot get more R while Angels shiver in a frail panic…

What’s Happening, Man?

get it together, keep it together, try to share it where it becomes together with_______hmmm…..!!!!!!!

Oh i do have a book out soon (all that and he’s flogging a dodgy book! scandal!)

Gonna treat myself to a New Fender when it comes out

Peace to my Autist buddies and ET’s the Universe across. They quietly understand. (you got water? holy shit is it free?) its true we have water drinkable at room temperature… could sell it, just need to get rid of the salt…whats it like? earth? Salty. oh, salty. you got not enough, we got too much…but im not gonna pimp liquid to live

What

Ya

Smoking?

wont let you smoke with me?

Peace, RMF Feb2023

ead

Golden brown

Golden brown

Never alone

No harm done

My only one

Never alone

Always alone

Golden Crown

What have I done

Texture Andromedan

I found

And there it goes

Goes til it’s gone

Modest sensation of dreaming

Sounds Remotely sounds like screaming

My lover is a cacodaemon

Draining my soul

And remnants of past

All done

All olone

But one too many

Get the job done

Two is company, three is a crowd

One is one too many

Oh, for you, too

Must be difficult for you

I beg the Gods to Turn Me Off

I’d like to not exist,

It’s my right to want to check out

If not then whose

Nazis would prefer Jews to live, too

Existing only to feel pain

An experiment

Yeah in my heroic majesty

I feel weird when Angel Of Death is on

Golden rule transgression

All alone

Always alone

She’s sayin she’s around

Always around

At All

Never going to be alone again

Does this mean what it seems times ten

Pathogen on my pillow

Angel demon be at my side

Not even traditional evil

Or when it blatantly is evil

They’re Acting…. Believe that shit?

Say it’s a performance

Stop pretending, perforate you

Always a god, never

Never alone

Got Five minutes?

Almost a Deity

But reliant on Bone

Come jump on mine 8)

Never a God

Always alone

See his photos?

Performance doing well don’t we all

Ain’t Nobody around

With no Golden Brown

I can’t stop crying

Boy, when u dance to Boys Don’t Cry, boy

Suggest what I should clown to

We’re golden brown

Never coming down

Never alone with golden brown

By myself but not alone

Turn it down like tone

You know I can’t, son

Gained a reason to live I didn’t want

I wasn’t looking for one

For the horse you’ve got much fonder

Than for me, and I wonder

If that’s a fair contest li ponder

Not stoned but still owned

My physical co-owned

A marigold amber colour system

We’re never never alone

Never afraid

Wearing a dressing gown

You can’t bring me down

Now I’m in a cell

Never apart

Never part us

No need to ask that which is known

Cried 41 times, I didn’t know

Didn’t know it was my Dads best song

Until a retroghost told me

He was my dads best friend

That is

Until someone had to go down

For the Fenchurch tickle

Put on The Hammer by Motörhead then

You are your fathers son now

Golden brown he heard

Why can’t i…

Develop a frown

Dig the groove

I feel him cry with me

Timmy why don’t u do something about it

My man

Always solo

Shoot golden brown

On our own

Shut em down

Shut em shut em down

Shut em down

Cant touch my golden brown

Is Known around cos threshold blown

Someone’s messing with my trout

Fish hating motherfucker

U could never Atone

U could attempt though

Thought, though…

What we are reduced to

Four years into a milllisecond

Here’s a thought-

Why don’t you

Get

Off

My

Dick

Never alone

Never again

Always around

Silence is golden

Nelly

Then again

That plucky battery hen

Sometimes u need a Hey!

Notice me!m

I’m not invisible!

Do I smell ?

Aren’t I good enough or not good enough

Well at least one and probably the other

He likes silence?

There’s a lot of it in isolation

When you’re talking to yourself

And you’re all alone

And thieving guns lyrics by Axl Rose

They say I passed the test

They say I am the son of God

I’ll make sure to tell my Doctor

Cos he’s never heard that from ever

Vai comes like lava from a volcano

Lies come likes Roger

A stranger looking at my name

It’s wild outside, a white boy wilderness

Why would I strive to go outside

Outside is for the privelidged

It’s acid rain and oxygen deprivation

Lazer scars number 18 and Rog mutilation

Manipulation of brain systems

His memory shows he’s retarded too

Where did that come from,

Where did he come from

NothingAuthor Roger Francis AKA rog@littleandromeda.com AndroidPosted on Leave a commenton Life in my HeadEdit”Life in my Head”

Life in my Head

Golden brown

Golden brown

Never alone

No harm done

My only one

Never alone

Always alone

Golden Crown

What have I done

Texture Andromedan

I found

And there it goes

Goes til it’s gone

Modest sensation of dreaming

Sounds Remotely sounds like screaming

My lover is a cacodaemon

Draining my soul

And remnants of past

All done

All olone

But one too many

Get the job done

Two is company, three is a crowd

One is one too many

Oh, for you, too

Must be difficult for you

I beg the Gods to Turn Me Off

I’d like to not exist,

It’s my right to want to check out

If not then whose

Nazis would prefer Jews to live, too

Existing only to feel pain

An experiment

Yeah in my heroic majesty

I feel weird when Angel Of Death is on

Golden rule transgression

All alone

Always alone

She’s sayin she’s around

Always around

At All

Never going to be alone again

Does this mean what it seems times ten

Pathogen on my pillow

Angel demon be at my side

Not even traditional evil

Or when it blatantly is evil

They’re Acting…. Believe that shit?

Say it’s a performance

Stop pretending, perforate you

Always a god, never

Never alone

Got Five minutes?

Almost a Deity

But reliant on Bone

Come jump on mine 8)

Never a God

Always alone

See his photos?

Performance doing well don’t we all

Ain’t Nobody around

With no Golden Brown

I can’t stop crying

Boy, when u dance to Boys Don’t Cry, boy

Suggest what I should clown to

We’re golden brown

Never coming down

Never alone with golden brown

By myself but not alone

Turn it down like tone

You know I can’t, son

Gained a reason to live I didn’t want

I wasn’t looking for one

For the horse you’ve got much fonder

Than for me, and I wonder

If that’s a fair contest li ponder

Not stoned but still owned

My physical co-owned

A marigold amber colour system

We’re never never alone

Never afraid

Wearing a dressing gown

You can’t bring me down

Now I’m in a cell

Never apart

Never part us

No need to ask that which is known

Cried 41 times, I didn’t know

Didn’t know it was my Dads best song

Until a retroghost told me

He was my dads best friend

That is

Until someone had to go down

For the Fenchurch tickle

Put on The Hammer by Motörhead then

You are your fathers son now

Golden brown he heard

Why can’t i…

Develop a frown

Dig the groove

I feel him cry with me

Timmy why don’t u do something about it

My man

Always solo

Shoot golden brown

On our own

Shut em down

Shut em shut em down

Shut em down

Cant touch my golden brown

Is Known around cos threshold blown

Someone’s messing with my trout

Fish hating motherfucker

U could never Atone

U could attempt though

Thought, though…

What we are reduced to

Four years into a milllisecond

Here’s a thought-

Why don’t you

Get

Off

My

Dick

Never alone

Never again

Always around

Silence is golden

Nelly

Then again

That plucky battery hen

Sometimes u need a Hey!

Notice me!m

I’m not invisible!

Do I smell ?

Aren’t I good enough or not good enough

Well at least one and probably the other

He likes silence?

There’s a lot of it in isolation

When you’re talking to yourself

And you’re all alone

And thieving guns lyrics by Axl Rose

They say I passed the test

They say I am the son of God

I’ll make sure to tell my Doctor

Cos he’s never heard that from ever

Vai comes like lava from a volcano

Lies come likes Roger

A stranger looking at my name

It’s wild outside, a white boy wilderness

Why would I strive to go outside

Outside is for the privelidged

It’s acid rain and oxygen deprivation

Lazer scars number 18 and Rog mutilation

Manipulation of brain systems

His memory shows he’s retarded too

Where did that come from,

Where did he come from

Nothing

Gold n’ n’Brown

Golden brown

Golden brown

Never alone

No harm done

My only one 

Never alone

Always alone

Golden Crown

What have I done

Texture Andromedan

I found

And there it goes

Goes til it’s gone

Modest sensation of dreaming

Sounds Remotely sounds like screaming

My lover is a cacodaemon

Draining my soul

And remnants of past 

All done

All olone

But one too many

Get the job done

Two is company, three is a crowd

One is one too many

Oh, for you, too

Must be difficult for you

I beg the Gods to Turn Me Off

I’d like to not exist,

It’s my right to want to check out

If not then whose

Nazis would prefer Jews to live, too

Existing only to feel pain

An experiment 

Yeah in my heroic majesty 

I feel weird when Angel Of Death is on

Golden rule transgression 

All alone

Always alone

She’s sayin she’s around

Always around

At All

Never going to be alone again

Does this mean what it seems times ten

Pathogen on my pillow

Angel demon be at my side 

Not even traditional evil

Or when it blatantly is evil

They’re Acting…. Believe that shit?

Say it’s a performance 

Stop pretending, perforate you

Always a god, never

Never alone

Got Five minutes?

Almost a Deity

But reliant on Bone

Come jump on mine 8)

Never a God

Always alone

See his photos?

Performance doing well don’t we all

Ain’t Nobody around

With no Golden Brown

I can’t stop crying

Boy, when u dance to Boys Don’t Cry, boy

Suggest what I should clown to

We’re golden brown

Never coming down

Never alone with golden brown

By myself but not alone

Turn it down like tone

You know I can’t, son

Gained a reason to live I didn’t want

I wasn’t looking for one

For the horse you’ve got much fonder

Than for me, and I wonder

If that’s a fair contest li ponder

Not stoned but still owned

My physical co-owned

A marigold amber colour system

We’re never never alone

Never afraid

Wearing a dressing gown

You can’t bring me down

Now I’m in a cell

Never apart 

Never part us

No need to ask that which is known

Cried 41 times, I didn’t know

Didn’t know it was my Dads best song

Until a retroghost told me

He was my dads best friend

That is

Until someone had to go down 

For the Fenchurch tickle 

Put on The Hammer by Motörhead then

You are your fathers son now

Golden brown he heard

Why can’t i…

Develop a frown

Dig the groove

I feel him cry with me

Timmy why don’t u do something about it 

My man

Always solo

Shoot golden brown

On our own

Shut em down

Shut em shut em down

Shut em down

Cant touch my golden brown

Is Known around cos threshold blown

Someone’s messing with my trout

Fish hating motherfucker

U could never Atone

U could attempt though

Thought, though…

What we are reduced to

Four years into a milllisecond 

Here’s a thought-

Why don’t you

Get

Off

My

Dick

Never alone

Never again

Always around

Silence is golden

Nelly

Then again

That plucky battery hen

Sometimes u need a Hey!

Notice me!

I’m not invisible!

Do I smell ?

Aren’t I good enough or not good enough

Well at least one and probably the other

He likes silence?

There’s a lot of it in isolation 

When you’re talking to yourself

And you’re all alone

And thieving guns lyrics by Axl Rose

They say I passed the test 

They say I am the son of God

I’ll make sure to tell my Doctor

Cos he’s never heard that from ever

Vai comes like lava from a volcano

Lies come likes Roger 

A stranger looking at my name 

It’s wild outside, a white boy wilderness

Why would I strive to go outside

Outside is for the privelidged

It’s acid rain and oxygen deprivation 

Lazer scars number 18 and Rog mutilation

Manipulation of brain systems

His memory shows he’s retarded too

Where did that come from, 

Where did he come from

Nothing