BIRD WRITES:...
I have long suspected that my actuation into being was not of the intelligent design category, if you get my midriff. In the eternal search for meaning and the ever elusive obelisk of strife, I have mused over many a Smoothie and tea with honey about my beginnings. After several phone calls... well, one, actually, in which my mother feigned bad hearing AGAIN, I established that "We really can't remember, dear," in answer to my question "Was I planned?" The version of what really happened has changed so much over the years that I may as well conclude that my parents have never been in control, shall we say, of either their respective destinies or mine. It is with a heavy heart that after all these long years of enquiry I must conclude that, well, basically, my parents were "only in it for the nookie", and considering that by all accounts it was probably their last nookie, I am certainly not going to do any finger pointing. Indeed, I feel guilty that my conception led directly to a loss of interest in what is clearly one of the most pleasurable gifts from the gods.
So... why does it matter? Planned? Unplanned? It doesn't. Intention is overrated. I intend, and have intended, to do many, many things. Intention is an illusory tromtopolomorphous construct if ever there was one. Ha! Try Googling that, my bloggy fiends, and see what you get. At the end of the daze, haze, maze, whatever, I am. And I assert myself, or wound myself as best as I can. As we all do. Or should do. Life... is the opposite of death. None of us should forget that. I am reminded of the words of the great Poe in that old cheesy '70s TV series Kung Fu:
The sage has said "Others are contented, I alone am drifting. Not knowing where I am. I am different. I am nourished by the great mother. In an uncertain hour, the wise man acknowledges uncertainty."
Live well, and all.
Arf, arf!
OTHER FOETAL MISTAKES...
Stephen Fry
Lance Armstrong
Britney Spears
John Cleese
Jonathan Ross
Al Gore
Russell Brand
Alan Carr
Demi Moore
Arnold Schwarzenegger
Snoop Doggy Dogg
Paulo Coelho
Mischa Barton
Yoko Ono
Will Self
Will Smith
Will Conquer
Will Power
THE LATEST TWEET...
Click many, many. But where's the button? Feck, it's cold in here. Time for a mug of tea, methinks.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thursday, November 04, 2010
INDENTATIONS AND THE DANCE OF THE TICKLE
INDENTATIONS AND THE DANCE OF THE TICKLE
Push
that
tab
far enough
and it
will
tut tut
tickle
ickle
fickle
tab bab
volumanoid
***
CURRENTLY ON TWITTER:
I have always felt twiddle is an underrated word. What's that bird doing on my window? O yuck.
Push
that
tab
far enough
and it
will
tut tut
tickle
ickle
fickle
tab bab
volumanoid
***
CURRENTLY ON TWITTER:
I have always felt twiddle is an underrated word. What's that bird doing on my window? O yuck.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
OF TWITTER AND WIKILEAKS
NEW! EXCITING! NEW! STEAMING! NEW! JAMMING! NEW! NEW! NEW! NEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FOLLOW US NOW ON TWITTER:
"I watched the bubbles on my coffee fade. H2O doesn't get better than this."
AND...
WIKILEAKS.
You can now find 300,491 PRIVATE documents from Buff''s TOP SECRET collection of e-mails, post-it notes, scribbles on cigarette packets and toilet paper. It is claimed that had some of these documents been released earlier, perhaps... the invasion of Iraq would never have happened, George Bush would never have been elected, the global financial meltdown could have been avoided, peace between India and Pakistan could have been achieved, and the mystery of what really happened to Buff's neighbours' budgerigars would finally be solved. And more.
WIKILEAKS... because there just ain't enough hours in the day to waste on waste.
Arf, arf!
FOLLOW US NOW ON TWITTER:
"I watched the bubbles on my coffee fade. H2O doesn't get better than this."
AND...
WIKILEAKS.
You can now find 300,491 PRIVATE documents from Buff''s TOP SECRET collection of e-mails, post-it notes, scribbles on cigarette packets and toilet paper. It is claimed that had some of these documents been released earlier, perhaps... the invasion of Iraq would never have happened, George Bush would never have been elected, the global financial meltdown could have been avoided, peace between India and Pakistan could have been achieved, and the mystery of what really happened to Buff's neighbours' budgerigars would finally be solved. And more.
WIKILEAKS... because there just ain't enough hours in the day to waste on waste.
Arf, arf!
Saturday, October 23, 2010
IT TAKES A TWITTER TO KNOW A TWITTER
BUFFALO: Dude, you dere?
BIRD: Halfway between the here and the chow.
BUFFALO: I think I've done it, I think I've found love, Birdy.
BIRD: Great! At last! What's her name?
BUFFALO: It's not a she, it's an it.
BIRD: Oh, you mean a Herman Afro Deity?
BUFFALO: No, dude, you berkoff, a philosophy.
BIRD: Oh, really? Forgive me while I yawn.
BUFFALO: Dude, it's called Wantism, and it really works. All you have to do is want something real bad and hey per-resto, you get it!
BIRD: And what is it exactly you want, dude?
BUFFALO: For fudge rocket's sake, dude, open yer lugholes - LOVE!!! And what's more, I got it. You see, I now realise, having signed up to Wantism Global thru Twitteroo that EVERYTHING is love. Look around you, everywhere you turn, whaddya see? Huh? LOVE, dude. As much as you or me or anyone will ever need. I'm tellin' ya, since this morning I have not touched my todger once.
BIRD: Whoa, a world record. Congrats. I'm really happy for you, but just tell me one thing - how does this LOVE love you back, hmmm? Hmmm?
BUFFALO: Dude, that's the old love, the one about give and take and all that outmoded bull. This is the real thing. LOVE IS... That's all.
BIRD: No subject, no object.
BUFFALO: Dat's right. Just the cosmic continuum, innit.
BIRD: Wow. I'll have to tell me missus about this. No more tantrums, no more heated arguments, no more disharmony, no more wounded egos, no more... us.
BUFFALO: You got it.
BIRD: Hmm... You know what, I don't think she'll go for that, and hactually, dude, when it comes to snuggling up in bedders, if it's a choice between the cosmic ultimatum and me dearly beloved, I'm going for the latter.
BUFFALO: Oh, farkwit! You've done it again, you've blown wide apart the best idea for inner peas EVER by introducing that which only speaks its name in the damnedest of terms - LONELINESS. You fudging fecker, dude! Thanks a lot.
BIRD: Takes a Twitter to know a Twitter, dude.
BUFFALO: Condemned to another night with Doris. Jeez...
BIRD: Film at eleven.
BUFFALO: Arf, arf!
BIRD: Halfway between the here and the chow.
BUFFALO: I think I've done it, I think I've found love, Birdy.
BIRD: Great! At last! What's her name?
BUFFALO: It's not a she, it's an it.
BIRD: Oh, you mean a Herman Afro Deity?
BUFFALO: No, dude, you berkoff, a philosophy.
BIRD: Oh, really? Forgive me while I yawn.
BUFFALO: Dude, it's called Wantism, and it really works. All you have to do is want something real bad and hey per-resto, you get it!
BIRD: And what is it exactly you want, dude?
BUFFALO: For fudge rocket's sake, dude, open yer lugholes - LOVE!!! And what's more, I got it. You see, I now realise, having signed up to Wantism Global thru Twitteroo that EVERYTHING is love. Look around you, everywhere you turn, whaddya see? Huh? LOVE, dude. As much as you or me or anyone will ever need. I'm tellin' ya, since this morning I have not touched my todger once.
BIRD: Whoa, a world record. Congrats. I'm really happy for you, but just tell me one thing - how does this LOVE love you back, hmmm? Hmmm?
BUFFALO: Dude, that's the old love, the one about give and take and all that outmoded bull. This is the real thing. LOVE IS... That's all.
BIRD: No subject, no object.
BUFFALO: Dat's right. Just the cosmic continuum, innit.
BIRD: Wow. I'll have to tell me missus about this. No more tantrums, no more heated arguments, no more disharmony, no more wounded egos, no more... us.
BUFFALO: You got it.
BIRD: Hmm... You know what, I don't think she'll go for that, and hactually, dude, when it comes to snuggling up in bedders, if it's a choice between the cosmic ultimatum and me dearly beloved, I'm going for the latter.
BUFFALO: Oh, farkwit! You've done it again, you've blown wide apart the best idea for inner peas EVER by introducing that which only speaks its name in the damnedest of terms - LONELINESS. You fudging fecker, dude! Thanks a lot.
BIRD: Takes a Twitter to know a Twitter, dude.
BUFFALO: Condemned to another night with Doris. Jeez...
BIRD: Film at eleven.
BUFFALO: Arf, arf!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
THE TEMPTATION OF A CLERGYMAN
THE TEMPTATION OF A CLERGYMAN
The pimple
of her
smile
led him
to
an
entirely
new
altar
The pimple
of her
smile
led him
to
an
entirely
new
altar
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
HERPES, OMIGOD
BUFFALO: U der?
BIRD: Yep. Frazzled.
BUFFALO: Watching a brillo movie on TCM - old Brit flic with Michael Redgrave set in a boys’ prep school. Worn out from the shoot yesterday.
BIRD: Creative worn out is da best. Mine is just stuck at the Bore Fest worn out.
BUFFALO: Well, shit...
BIRD: On a stick. How much footage did you get?
BUFFALO: Me and Ken got blitzed after the shoot, was tripping, like. It was good though.
BIRD: Fookin’ fairies.
BUFFALO: Huh?
BIRD: You being spaced out, off with the fairies, innit.
BUFFALO: Ah. Got hours of footage, four cameras.
BIRD: You’ll have fun putting that together.
BUFFALO: Caught hell from Osbee…
BIRD: Oh?
BUFFALO: Missed her dad’s birthday party.
BIRD: Shite.
BUFFALO: 85, like.
BIRD: Dude, she’s gonna kill ya.
BUFFALO: But she didn’t tell me about the party!
BIRD: Well, that’s different.
BUFFALO: She gets worse by the day. She's trying to kill me, dude. Just like the gal in the movie is out to kill her husband.
BIRD: What’s the latest with Pammy?
BUFFALO: Been avoiding her like the plague. She has a boyfriend.
BIRD: Bummer. Nay fair.
BUFFALO: And I noticed something that kinda spooked me.
BIRD: Oh?
BUFFALO: She had a cold sore on her lip... and I'm thinking HERPES.
BIRD: You didn’t snog her, didya?
BUFFALO: Feck, no! NO…
BIRD: Knobbed her?
BUFFALO: NO.
BIRD: HERPES is my least favourite god.
BUFFALO: Do you know the difference…
BIRD: Nope.
BUFFALO: Between love and HERPES?
BIRD: Nope.
BUFFALO: HERPES is FOREVER.
BIRD: Ah, yes. No cure?
BUFFALO: Nope. This is a great fookin’ movie. It has adultery for one thing, with a seriously hot bitch, tho she really IS a bitch. I have to go drop a load on the toad now, dude. Those beans went right through me.
BIRD: Fair nuff. And I need a slash. And maybe some food.
BUFFALO: A slash?
BIRD: Piss.
BUFFALO: Gotta go.
BIRD: Enjoy.
BUFFALO: Hope I’m not conster-pated. That sucks. Right, got a turtle poking his head out, dude. Which rewinds me, some fookwit was supposed to call me today for an online training session.
BIRD: Oh, yeah?
BUFFALO: Hang on, that’s him now.
(PAUSE)
BUFFALO: He had a family emergency, was at the horse pistol. He’s gonna call back at six. Breaking Bad tonight, dude.... Gonna get high for that, have to smoke up me weed cuz after the 19th I can’t smoke for a year… condition of the oral surgery. So it’s gonna be brownies for me after the 19th. So I’m staying ripped until the weed runs out or I croak. Nap time. Maybe flog der weasel first, like.
BIRD: Later, dude.
BUFFALO: Arf, arf!
BIRD: Yep. Frazzled.
BUFFALO: Watching a brillo movie on TCM - old Brit flic with Michael Redgrave set in a boys’ prep school. Worn out from the shoot yesterday.
BIRD: Creative worn out is da best. Mine is just stuck at the Bore Fest worn out.
BUFFALO: Well, shit...
BIRD: On a stick. How much footage did you get?
BUFFALO: Me and Ken got blitzed after the shoot, was tripping, like. It was good though.
BIRD: Fookin’ fairies.
BUFFALO: Huh?
BIRD: You being spaced out, off with the fairies, innit.
BUFFALO: Ah. Got hours of footage, four cameras.
BIRD: You’ll have fun putting that together.
BUFFALO: Caught hell from Osbee…
BIRD: Oh?
BUFFALO: Missed her dad’s birthday party.
BIRD: Shite.
BUFFALO: 85, like.
BIRD: Dude, she’s gonna kill ya.
BUFFALO: But she didn’t tell me about the party!
BIRD: Well, that’s different.
BUFFALO: She gets worse by the day. She's trying to kill me, dude. Just like the gal in the movie is out to kill her husband.
BIRD: What’s the latest with Pammy?
BUFFALO: Been avoiding her like the plague. She has a boyfriend.
BIRD: Bummer. Nay fair.
BUFFALO: And I noticed something that kinda spooked me.
BIRD: Oh?
BUFFALO: She had a cold sore on her lip... and I'm thinking HERPES.
BIRD: You didn’t snog her, didya?
BUFFALO: Feck, no! NO…
BIRD: Knobbed her?
BUFFALO: NO.
BIRD: HERPES is my least favourite god.
BUFFALO: Do you know the difference…
BIRD: Nope.
BUFFALO: Between love and HERPES?
BIRD: Nope.
BUFFALO: HERPES is FOREVER.
BIRD: Ah, yes. No cure?
BUFFALO: Nope. This is a great fookin’ movie. It has adultery for one thing, with a seriously hot bitch, tho she really IS a bitch. I have to go drop a load on the toad now, dude. Those beans went right through me.
BIRD: Fair nuff. And I need a slash. And maybe some food.
BUFFALO: A slash?
BIRD: Piss.
BUFFALO: Gotta go.
BIRD: Enjoy.
BUFFALO: Hope I’m not conster-pated. That sucks. Right, got a turtle poking his head out, dude. Which rewinds me, some fookwit was supposed to call me today for an online training session.
BIRD: Oh, yeah?
BUFFALO: Hang on, that’s him now.
(PAUSE)
BUFFALO: He had a family emergency, was at the horse pistol. He’s gonna call back at six. Breaking Bad tonight, dude.... Gonna get high for that, have to smoke up me weed cuz after the 19th I can’t smoke for a year… condition of the oral surgery. So it’s gonna be brownies for me after the 19th. So I’m staying ripped until the weed runs out or I croak. Nap time. Maybe flog der weasel first, like.
BIRD: Later, dude.
BUFFALO: Arf, arf!
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
LATE BUT FOREVER
IN AUTUMN 1990, SOMETHING HAPPENED IN CHERRY PIE WOOD. MRS BARFAWAY REFUSES TO TELL & HER DOG LICKSPITTLE SIMPLY RAN AWAY. TEN YEARS ON, STEWART SUMNER ASSESSES THE INFLATORY IMPACT OF THE MYSTIFYING EVENTS THAT DAY ON POST-MODULATORY, MULTILITERAL, PREAMBULATORY CROSSOVER POETRY PERTAINING TO EXPRESS THE SHIT SANDWICH IN NON-GASTRONOMIC TERMS. THE FOLLOWING POEM HAS BEEN ENTERED FOR THE INTERNATIONAL SELF-FLAGELLATING AUTOMATED GARGOYLE ON A STICK AWARD 2010.
LATE BUT FOREVER
by Stewart Sumner
As the rain splashes
I see the cradle
To the grave
In scintillating shades
Of colour and dialogue
Freeze framed and clipped
To slip in my back pocket
On the way to the doc
Forwards, backwards then stop
A juddering footnote
To the incoming saline
As blue as the midnight
As fake as the PhotoShop
I say, did you hear that plop?
That was me
LATE BUT FOREVER
by Stewart Sumner
As the rain splashes
I see the cradle
To the grave
In scintillating shades
Of colour and dialogue
Freeze framed and clipped
To slip in my back pocket
On the way to the doc
Forwards, backwards then stop
A juddering footnote
To the incoming saline
As blue as the midnight
As fake as the PhotoShop
I say, did you hear that plop?
That was me
Saturday, February 06, 2010
Friday, February 05, 2010
Avitan Demotional! Me, Me, Now!
(to the tune of "Jingle Bells")
words - Marcel DeClercq
Ativan
Ativan
Atta girl, you go
Take a chill pill everyday
Lest you go insane, hey!
Stop yer cryin'
Drink more wine
And beer and whiskey, too
Once you're tranked
Or mildly tanked
Your troubles melt away.
Dashing through the blow
Cocaine all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a souped-up Chevrolet
Bell's High-Octane Ale
Gets you fookin' tight
What fun it is to smoke a joint
And get ripped every night!
Oh, Ativan, Ativan, trankers all the way
Oh what fun it is to chill
'Til your troubles melt away!
words - Marcel DeClercq
Ativan
Ativan
Atta girl, you go
Take a chill pill everyday
Lest you go insane, hey!
Stop yer cryin'
Drink more wine
And beer and whiskey, too
Once you're tranked
Or mildly tanked
Your troubles melt away.
Dashing through the blow
Cocaine all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a souped-up Chevrolet
Bell's High-Octane Ale
Gets you fookin' tight
What fun it is to smoke a joint
And get ripped every night!
Oh, Ativan, Ativan, trankers all the way
Oh what fun it is to chill
'Til your troubles melt away!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
DELETED AND PURGED, THE UNHOLY TRILOGY
DELETED AND PURGED, THE UNHOLY TRILOGY
by Donia Carey, Marcel DeClercq and Stewart Sumner
(From a most unlikely thread about the future. Dedicated, as always, to the genius of the one and only Donia Carey)
Whilst exploring my genome
Inexplicably aroused
I prematurely
Creamed my genes
It stopped
So sudden
I got whiplash
Of the emotions
With this pistol
I thee deface
O future tense
Deleted and purged
Make bunions
On the bum
History
Wear lace
COMING SOON: THE OLD TESTAMENT, DIONYSUS, ITALIAN CULTURE, UNCONSCIOUSNESS, PREMONITIONS OF THE ULTIMATE EROTIC KISS, AND WHAT HAPPENED WHEN DA AULD BUFF DISCOVERED HUSSERLIAN PHENOMENOLOGY ON HIS BEDROOM DOOR
by Donia Carey, Marcel DeClercq and Stewart Sumner
(From a most unlikely thread about the future. Dedicated, as always, to the genius of the one and only Donia Carey)
Whilst exploring my genome
Inexplicably aroused
I prematurely
Creamed my genes
It stopped
So sudden
I got whiplash
Of the emotions
With this pistol
I thee deface
O future tense
Deleted and purged
Make bunions
On the bum
History
Wear lace
COMING SOON: THE OLD TESTAMENT, DIONYSUS, ITALIAN CULTURE, UNCONSCIOUSNESS, PREMONITIONS OF THE ULTIMATE EROTIC KISS, AND WHAT HAPPENED WHEN DA AULD BUFF DISCOVERED HUSSERLIAN PHENOMENOLOGY ON HIS BEDROOM DOOR
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