Yep it’s true
Here is….a little thing I recorded, hopefully for BBC Radio 4. Francis, MI5.
Am I? Am I a Jew? What is a Jew? Suddenly I simply do not know. Is Jesus Jewish? Probably. Is the Pope a Catholic? Yes. Am I Jewish? Well……is Bruce Springsteen Jewish? Not as Jewish as Bob Dylan, real name Arnold Zimmerman.
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
Yes, greetings to you. Thanks for reading this, reader.
That’s me, Rog. You may call me Don, John, Rog, MCXP, Roger F, Roggy, Big Rog, The Master… (actually Sony came up with a range to replace Bravia. Sony Master. (happy with my LG though…maybe for the PS5 ill get a new 8K Master…God willing)) , Rodriguez, Rogerio Francescoli (Miss), or, or course, Roger.
So what’s new? I’m playing Football Manager 2019, but as most of my friends know, there’s little new in that. On FM2019 Mobile I was Liverpool, my Team in Reality (oh no…reality lol) but it was getting easy. On the Full version (oh, thanks, Watford!) I’m playing as Roma. It’s going ok. A challenge. Less of a challenge maybe when I get Gabriel Batistuta at Christmas. How? How, you say? Easy. D/L ’em from the forums. Ronaldo, Pele, Lizerazu, Van Basten, Kluivert, Davids, Socrates, Eusebio even. Eusebio! Oh that reminds me, I should write an Encyclopaedia, like The Mary Whitehouse Experience Encyclopedia. Anyone who wants to contribute, get in touch. Cool.
Kipper, my Kitten, is thriving. Aww Rog with a Kitten, I know. She wakes me up each morning far earlier than normal…should I be resentful? How can a man resent a Kitten?
……aaaaand I’m back. After the mighty BBC B I got an Atari ST. All my friends had one, too. My favourite ST memory is the legendary Speedball 2. A violent futuristic ball game with mad power ups and money to collect during the game. After a while, as often happens, I was unbeatable. Think it was by Birmingham- Based Bullfrog. As was Populous, it’s sequel Powermonger. You can play Speedball now, it’s called Speedball Arena.
There were other classics on my ST. For example, Outrun. Bombing around in a Ferrari Testarossa. I played it so much I…yeah I had a lonely childhood…I can hear the music, too.
Oh yeah! Commander Keen! My sister was so good at this she would beat the game without losing a life. Like me playing Xenon 2. Again, a quality game. I memorised the stages and would win without losing life. The original Xenon was cool, too.
I mentioned Populous, yeah. A….how can one describe it? War game, the player is God, and it gets progressively harder for…get this…999 levels. Ordering minions around and that kind of thing. I wonder if anyone on Earth has finished it.
Wolfenstein 3D. From id software who later produced Doom and Quake. The genius of head programmer John Carmack is obvious. Amongst the first 3D games, you got to shoot Nazis, plunder their gold, and also shoot dogs. As a friend said once, it’s a great feeling, shooting a Nazi from wayyyyyy down a corridor, the filth exclaiming a cry of “mean lieben” as he dies.
More to come
ah! Hello! I figured eventually that many people on blogs talk about their day. So here we go. Well, leTs start with my dreams. I was selling homegrown out of the car park in a Project I lived in for a few years. I was happy doing this. I smoked a lot of weed, in a dream. And it had an effect, too! Free weed! Yay! Then I phoned a musician who must remain nameless, in a studio constructed over the course of many dreams. I got a cool Graf to look at. The main theme was Jewish Rastafarianism. I was ciphering with the coolest guy ever, but chill, there’s many like him. Smoking stuff with him, eventually passing it, I cannot remember much else.
Then I woke up.
i would have liked to stay in this dream. Woke up semi naked on the sofa, where I sometimes reside at night. Felt bad. Had Rollie. Felt bad. I went out to get supplies. At least I’m not drinking…man don’t let me drink Whisky. The Spirit Of Whisky. Hmmmmmmm………..I ranted for a while, watched cable and waited to go to rehab. For my hip, I’m not on heroin. Or have been. Unlike every single one of everyone I ever considered to be cool. Even so…only smart boys do without. Axl Rose lyric. I wish Guns would do a new album, cos you can’t tour old music forever. Speaking of heroin, they all did it. Izzy, Slash, Axl, Steve Adler, and Duff McKagan. All of them. Mr Brownstone was written at Izzy’s gf house, slash and Izzy complaining about being strung out all the time. Man… I wish they did that again. If Slash wasn’t high when he played the solo I’ll publicly sodomise a herring.
I CANT WATCH
Edited by Sir Patrick Barclay of the times
Who gets a hundred a year for writing about football.
I’m going to write about foootball.
After that I may get high
Then I’ll cry for a bit
No, I’ll describe my day.
I woke up alone in a hospital room. I was faint with hunger and I was hooked up to an IV. My hands were covered in blood and it was 5 45 am. I wanted a cigarette and a shower but could have neither. My phone had 3 percent left and I realised that the nurse from a e last night had, in additional to cracking the screen on my I, actually gone as far as steal the charger, too. Fool! She didn’t clock the I pad charger, then. Does it charge up as fast as a genuine I? I don’t know! It’s like putting food in the oven as it heats up, before it has reached max heat. Do you do it? Yeah, you do…or not, cos I’m in hospital for a spell. So instead of consuming a solitary piece of chicken in 58 hours and not even sinking it, for my tea I shall all but feast on lentil soup, beef on white, mashed potato, rice, and a diabetic friendly ice cream.
Man…what happened? Anyway…I’m gonna sharpen up. Carmen is pissed off with me but still bought me the worlds best T-shirt from primark. I don’t want to live in North Walls, it’s haunted by the spirit of deceased horses, juvenile delinquents, porn stars, extra terrestrial game masters, intro terrestrial greenies pleased with Ferrari’s pace…they just really like Ferrari. I do too. But L Ham…a merc which looked basically like a mirror, like tin foil, reflecting the light….in a few years yeah, alongside the mandatory fifth wheel in the back, in the middle, between the two rears. The only problem is if the drivers can handle the whiplash! Ha! Fuck’em!
United are not going to win tonight. I have a sneaky feeling. I am confident. I mean be real. PSG beat them at Old Trafford convincingly. Are united stronger now? Barely if any. Ole has had a wank and Fergie thinks this could be anything. Neymar…M ‘Bappe…a Gallic Perfecri