All for one

They call it 'Silly Season' but I can't see what's funny,
Deserted towns and immigrants taking all my money.
The nanny state and all P.C have been the big sensation,
A losing battle as we crumble into the Euro nation.
Is there a chance of British Pride instead of one on one
It seems the days of 'Save our Queen' have long been, dead and gone.

I won't say horses won the war for us, but we would never have won it without them.

Tall dark stranger

His glowing amber eyes stared burning into me, his brittle black hair shone silver in the light. I wanted to ask if we could meet up again but I knew we would only cross paths once. He made me feel alive, I wanted to spread ink over paper capturing his eyes to stay with me forever.
Crying owls broke the crisp clear air, my skin crawled whilst my fingertips felt every ridge in the bark. I wanted to run.

Me and Joan

I'm walking down the street to go find my next hit of crack when there before me is a woman sat on the floor.
'Can you help me please? '
'Depends, what do you want?'
'Will you call me a ambulance'
'Why? Whats wrong with you?'
'I've fainted'
Fair enough, so I called 999 begrudgingly, this guy on the phone is asking me a series of questions and I'm feeling pretty pissed about the whole situation, How the hell am I supposed to know anything about this woman? Shes sat there in her own urine with her small yellow bag of possessions, her bleached blonde hair had grew out about 8 months ago into a silvery grey and she was giving me the stink eye. She had scars up her forearms from self harm and her speech was slurred with a gurn. From what I managed to translate, She's coming up sixty, her husbands a traveller ( a.k.a got the fuck out of there ) and her two kids have grown up.
So I'm stood there gagging for a hit and this woman had clearly had her fill for the week, I try to keep low key around these parts and this bint really isn't helping out.
'HUUHH'
Oh fuck what the hells she doing now.
'HUUUUUHHHH'
Oh great, shes trying to throw up.
'Y' alright?'
'I'm gonna be sick HUH HUH'
Pretty sure she's making herself sick, Oh right and the 999 guy said if she starts throwing up lay her on her side. No chance I'm going anywhere near that.
'Blurghhhhhhhhhhh'
A river of yellow spew flows from her mouth, my stomach instantly starts to clutch and tries to push up the boiled egg I'd had to eat earlier that day. This is amazing, this is just what I needed. Finally the ambulance turns up and a unimpressed paramedic walks from the van putting on her latex gloves.
'Oh you again is it? WHAT-HAVE-YOU-BEEN-DRINKING?'
For fucks sake, what are the chances? I fall for a stunt like this, the paramedic explains she's in every day some days eight times and she'll be out in a hour. Don't get me wrong, this woman clearly needs help but what the hell are the NHS playing at? Don't just ship her away again, do something about it. Don't waste the time of good civilians like me, if it hadn't been for this drug induced troll I could be at my dealers now getting cained. Oh yeah and I asked for the womans name, apparently she calls herself Joan Collins.

The British Citizen

I walk to Doggy market to do my weekly shop, I spend my hard earned pennies and buy myself a frock. I use the local Post Office to send out all my mail, I send off all my bills to date without a single fail. The paper boy delivers before I leave for work, I'm working in the city as a office clerk. I venture down to Cornwall or the Lake District for my jolly holidays 'cos foreign makes me sick. I keep up with the gardening, keep it nice and trim, I wash out jars and bottles for recycling. Sundays are for family, I cook a lovely roast, have the neighbours over 'To England' we toast and then the week starts over and I do it all again, for I am the British Citizen the greatest of Gods men.

Sunday Cunts

Sunday Cunts in Sunday best,
Sunday shoes and Sunday vest.
Sunday prayers for Sundays host,
Sunday chat with Sunday Roast.
Sunday smiles for Sundays front,
Sunday gun for Sundays hunt.
Sunday shout in Sundays fight,
Sunday suicide Sunday night.

Picking Apples

Rules of Attraction

1. There are no rules.

A Week in Purgatory

After breathing in a 8 ball I decided that it was definitely going to be a productive day. I wrote a list of all the household jobs that needed to be done, I couldn't find any paper so I just wrote it on my arm (which would be more useful anyway!).
For some reason I felt bursting with energy, I started on my chores. Rushing about the place I managed to step on 3 needles and a cat shit, this was ok because I was wearing my Thai housemates socks - Take that Kang Pa Kai! After 4/6 of the assigned tasks I decided I needed a break, Where the fuck had I put the skins? Thank god I found that fiver in Tesco, I rolled up a beauty and smoked the length of it.
A red haired rag doll came to visit so I took her for a meal with the Angels, after that we took our flasks and drank red wine and visited a Blue Lagoon. You sunk my battleship! Crafty bitch, I ordered her to leave and then I missed her.
The next few days were a daze, good times were the bright green leaves above my bed. The bad times came from a woman in black and white running past me to find her key, as she entered the house she found herself lifeless in her armchair. This did not please me.
Pints of joy and disgrace past my chapped lips as the days went on, I fell into a pit. Only one thing could save me now, it was only on the Tuesday morning when I could push through past the black dog. On the other side there it sat, sugary sweet beautiful and perfect. You are mine now, all mine.

10 Penny Fortune

It is now safe to look forward

Watching from my window

The village goth walked down the street, her black heels in hygiene shoe covers. The parade carried on down the hill till the kids got hold of rifles, a massacre unfolded gunshots and screaming people. The kids shot each other in jest, they aimed at the fields of sheep and giant rats and killed them all. A new landscape was sculpted with bodies and rivers of blood. A deep grey cloud hung over catching the death in the air.

He rides his Harley to the bakery

Who gives a hoot what I do at night as long as I stay quiet. Incandescent buzzing eyes and twisting neck, I'm preying on the easy targets.

Ear Mate

A burger and a coffin

I chose a window seat , the sun shines in on the crimson faux leather seats. A tacky metal bedside lamp hunched over the edge of my table. Two business men walk in and request the table behind me, they order French toast and Coca-Cola to wash it down.

Sex Spy

I could be a spy, a sex spy, out of work and who takes pleasure in drinking red wine and drawing the royal family. By day I spend my time talking to middle aged men, eating Thai food and reading abandoned newspapers. By night I spend my time talking to middle aged men, eating chocolate and drinking alcohol.

No Duchy Original

A Man

He walked upto me handed me his empty glass and showed me his phone, it read 'Dont be worry about wearing your glasses' . I nervously laughed and replied "I'm not", he nodded and walked out the door.

Cats and Owls

Long Mornings and Short days

Delaying the rising of the blind to sit in soft set shadows my mind wanders as I fall back into fantasy, clear ink drawings scroll across my eyes along with flash backs of haunting dreams. My stomach falls in below my ribs and hips as I stretch my arms against the wall, memories of past passionate lovers fill my head. This is definitely going to be a long lie in.

Get in line

A queue to get into the cemetery.

Ginger Beer

A Aphrodisiac, drink with caution.

Shopping List: Milk,bread,salad,pipe

I stroked my ruby beard thinking of a simpler time. I scratched myself as I reached for the remote, mindless shows of mindless people plagued the televison screen. Do I sit here all night or wander out into the streets of London? Bells rang outside my window and the setting sun shone a golden light onto the streets, maybe Londons streets are paved with gold? I should go out to find my very own Mary Ann, I think we could start something really special tonight.

On my way back home

A crippled rat on crutches held me by my throat choking me, he barked 'YOU!' . I cried out for him to stop and tried to edge away scraping my bare heels against the rough block pavement. I looked into his eyes, they reflected a memory I had tried to forget; I had killed his daughter. I begged for forgiveness, explaining the life changing choices I had been given. It was kill or be killed. 'Look Mister, take my Wotsits and collection of Kinder Tiny Terrapins, I will flee this land so you will never have to see my murderess face again'. The once furious sewer rats eyes softened as his looked at the awesome tiny terrapins ' Go, go you monster!'

Thursday, I think

I awoke in a daze, my feet pulsing with pins and needles I reached for my Fanta Lemon and swallowed the remains, only to discover the flegga I'd spat in there the night before. I could tell this is going to be a good day. After using the last of the toilet roll and not replacing it for my hormonal Thai housemate I got showered and put on the clothes from the night before. Today is pay day I'm not sure what I should spend my hard earned wages on, I know I should buy food to see me though the next week but I could just spend it on crack. If I get really hungry I can always go down the hospital, I have friends there and they always give me mint stuff like pudding and IV drips. Anyway I cant spend all day on here when I've got money in my pocket.