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The Three F’s

this is dated 2002 and suggest a very different person from the one who writes this today, its not so much of a rant as a treatise on the world of hooligans as I saw it back then, it was unfinished and I tried to end it appropriately but as I have aged and matured I may have missed the sentiment of the rest of the piece, this is not something I am proud of or ashamed of it just serves as a piece of personal history which may be of interest to others who might like to know what those mad bastards of the late eighties early nineties were thinking when they went on the rampage.


As a true exponent of the lager lout thug culture of the
nineties it behoves me to assist our up and coming would be thugsters in the
true nature of the three F’s.

When I am
asked, as I often am, why did you do it, how did you do it and who did you do
it to, I feel that the only true explanation is to explain the philosophy of
the 3 F’s and to do this I must take up a portion of your valuable drinking

I agree with those out there who would claim that reading is something usually done by those
who have no real life, therefore they look for others words to fill in their
own gaps, but as I discovered one day whilst reading loaded in an STD clinic
waiting room for another dab of the brown paint onto the genital warts, some
stuff is cool to read and not only the short bits alongside the horny pictures
of the babes, although they’re well worth a shuftie as well.

I realised that long before I undertook the strenuous task of imposing my will onto
others, or merely alerting them to my different opinion,  there were others much greater than I, who
had been using there superior strength, intelligence and finances to full

So it ishere that I start my explanation, in the great tradition of hoodlums and
hooligans that stretches back into the far off days of legend, when Newcastle
could look forward to winning something,
The first of the F’s is fighting, It was once said that the Romans only managed
to conquer half the world because the men they faced were disorganised yobbos
who were usually too drunk to handle the might of that once great nation. So
essentially the Romans were the door men or football stewards of their day.

In essencethis was true, for the Celts, the forefathers of our own welsh, Irish and
Scottish relatives were a hard drinking hard fighting lot who were more
interested in larging it up in rows with their local rivals than forming into a
concerted mob that would be able to defend their manor. Imagine if you will, it
is somewhere in the early B.C.s. Although how they knew that was beyond even
their own comprehension. A few of the lads who roamed the southern parts of
what was then known simply as Britain, not yet great, were sitting about
plaiting their beards and drinking. It is important to note that such plaiting
was regarded as hard amongst these simple folk, although if you told a Scot
that now he would brain you.

So there they are discussing where and what they are looking to attack next, in the sincere hope that there would be loads of killing, raping and pillaging to be had, as well as the opportunity to acquire slaves, gold and more mead, the beer of the day. When out of the mists that were always present on the southern shores of this sceptred isle a boat loaded with men wearing short red skirts, cloaks and gold hats with brushes on appears. Now to any self respecting hard man these three accessories together screams homo and therefore an easy hiding to be dished out and normally this would be correct. But these men were not, or rather were unlikely to be, homosexuals at all but the advance party of a roman invasion force.

Now in hind sight, which is as always twenty
twenty, it would have been a good idea to gather up the firm, talk
tactics and then spring a cleverly fiendish ambush, along the lines of those so
often carried out by the legendary Millwall bushwhackers of the eighties and
nineties. Unfortunately and more importantly most obviously for these lads they
just had a few more strong drinks, consulted the local druid and then bash,
attacked these effeminately bedecked men from across the sea.

The rest as they say is history, for the great Julius Caesar had fought the Celts in all
their manifestations prior to arriving on our shores and so like the door men
and stewards of the future they just closed ranks and picked of the most drunk
ones whilst the others drank more and again fell foul of the drunks get done
first rule. It would be many thousands of years later that the Celts would
wreak revenge on the Romans in the form of Italia 90. When the Brits and Irish ran
amok through the genteel streets of the world cup hosts.

Now as a bona fide WASP I do find great pleasure in this next bit as it scores two big hits against the egos of
those small insignificant nations that cling to dear old England like

Way back when the Caesars’ of Romecould pretty much
decide the fate of most of the known world one portion of their burgeoning
empire was not cow towing to their rule.

In the far of reaches of Germaniathe Saxons, jutes and vandals were giving it
large and taking on the legions of the north on a weekly basis. These men were
more akin to the Norse men of Scandinavia then
the Celts who were believed to have originated in Asia
and this meant they were a fiercer proposition for the legions. These hard men
who like their Celtic counterparts were usually engaged in warring amongst
themselves managed to unite in loose coalitions to repel the might of the
rulers of the world, in fact the empire was not complete for many decades as
the Germanian tribes took more resource than the rest of the empire together to
bring to heel, and for their troubles the Romans merely sowed the seeds of
their own demise as it was these courageous tribes that eventually returned the
pleasure and sacked the great city, thereby bringing about the eventual fall of
the roman empire.

Now the Angles, Saxons and jutes were
the smaller tribes in these areas and it was seen as their only option but to
seek out new lands to cultivate and more slaves to help the race to grow
faster, thereby allowing them to stave off the interests of the Franks, Goths
and Huns who were always looking for a race to subjugate and lands to pillage.

It was due to this that the migration
of the forefathers of the English began, landing on the east coast of Britain
sometime in the second century B.C with a new and fearsome style of war that
eventually sent the sissy old Celts packing and allowed the great nation of
Angleland to be born. In fact many , mainly my mates to be honest, would say
that our invasion was too successful as if we had stopped a little further east
and a little further south then we could have avoided the Scousers and the
Geordie in the premiership, thereby allowing us a good few more points but
sadly this was not the case.

The reason the Germanic tribes were
so successful was there ability to unite and even when the kings of various
tribes hated each other they would gladly stand shoulder to shoulder, no one
trusted anyone enough to stand in front of their peers even then. It is fitting
that when the pride of England is again threatened by the Dutch, Italians or
god forbid the Germans that the football tribes of England still unite in a
historical tradition that supersedes the Leeds, Man Utd. Thing or evenCardiff,Birmingham city.

So as a confirmed Anglo Saxon I have
great pride in pointing out to the welsh, Irish and Scots that we have been
kicking your Celtic asses for  2
millennia and it was not just the six nations that we can lay claim to


The word hooligan itself is said to evolve from a family of infamous hard men and
general bad boys known as the Hooley family back in old Ireland. The
men of this clan were mean and hard who would fight each other as readily as
anyone else and there infamy gave rise to the now common place description of a
thug in today’s society. Hoodlum is again a derivative but that is used mainly
for a gangsters heavy mob and has less to do with the noble art of football
hooligan that grace our shores today.

I can hear the bleeding heart liberals now coughing into their All bran as they read this last comment, but
in English football there are some names that will forever be regarded in awe,
some of them even given grudging respect by all their would be adversaries, in
some cases even by the police who have tried and failed for years to bring them
down, cheating on occasion but ultimately failing. This brings us nicely onto
the next of the F’s Football


The names mean nothing to many and in truth would have been largely anonymous to the football going public at large
were it not for the many books extolling the many virtues of these hard men
that have been released into the bookshops over the last ten or so years. Names
such as Gurney, Scarriot and hickey are used almost as adjectives in the pubs
and clubs on a Friday night before a big match , the brimsone brothers and
their ilk are quoted as references not unlike Parmenion or Julius Caesar
would have been by great generals of long ago. The effect of these new age
celebrities is an odd one; they seem to have gained respectability amongst the
middle ground and heroic status amongst their modern day contemporise whilst
the high brow end of society seems oblivious to this.

Some claim it is an indictment of our culture that such men can be given a voice let alone an audience but they seem
to have been out of touch for the last two decades, when young working class
men in Britain have been left out of the loop by the government, welfare state and P.C. thought police. I was a young man in the
eighties when the miners, printers and Dockers fought for the rights they had
been brought up with as automatic while in Lambeth and other loony left areas a
woman could walk into a housing office and claim to be a lessa with kids and a
home was supplied in moments, indeed immigrants, usually claiming to be
refugees were given access to the full might of the DHSS while the young men
leaving school were thrown £35 a week to train in a job that miraculously ended
the moment the government stopped paying there wages, so where did those social
commentaries think we would find our Che Guevara or Bolivar. I have never gone
into the racist thing, my opinions on race and colour being my own and if I
treat all with the same respect then I feel that is my right but it isn’t hard
to work out why the young white men turned to violence as an outlet, when the
young blacks of eighties Britain rioted
they had good cause and these days they were seen as a catalyst to
change but what could the whites who were not ghettoised do, we lived apart and
met only on a Saturday afternoon, so when did they think we would vent our

The eventual legitimising of the old time football hooligan has a lot to do with the the publishers and film makers
who used it as a sub genre for a while before succumbing to the demands of the
centre right to stop the flow. Football hooligans still exist, they work in the
shadows and meet apart from the rest of society to carry out there necessary
rituals, the advent of the mobile phone did much to change their world as did
the internet, bragging and goading are common place if you know the right sites
to look for.

With the world of football in England tied so tightly to the story of the hooligan it is worth mentioning that
England is probably one of the safest countries in the world to watch football,
more women and children enjoy our great game and if you look to our nearest
European neighbours you will find hooliganism on the rise, with the Ultras in
Italy, organised gangs in Holland and Germany causing problems on a weekly
basis and nothing could prepare you for the fervour of the eastern Europeans
and the ensuing carnage it causes.

The final F is for fucking which is the ultimate goal of all red blooded males, whether they be hetro or gay the
need to impress the ladies or gents with our obvious masculinity is
historically important, cave men did it followed by the bronze age Greeks and
Egyptians, then the Romans and so on right up to the modern day. Hooligans
attract a type of girl which is highly sought after by men who like commitment
free sex, the old fashioned word was slag which is offensive and derogatory,
unfortunately there is no new word but its just not voiced anymore the closest
thing to it would be a groupie but that doesn’t quite cover it for me. It was a
fact that even the spottiest, smelliest least attractive of the crew could get
laid if he was lauded by his peers in the company of the girls, who may also
not be the pick of the bunch on a looks/physique criteria but availability is
attractive in a girl is it not?

One of the main things that were spoken about in the good old days when Sunday afternoon was traditionally used
for drinking and swapping stories, in the days before Sunday matches at various
times of the day and the opening of shops throughout the land making it hard to
get free of the family and the Tv for the whole of the afternoon, was the
weekends events which fighting formed a part, football an even smaller part
with the hunt and  acquisition of sex a
huge part of the folklore which filled the afternoons until time was called and
we all retired for a roast dinner before new adventures began on the Sunday
evening, usually more sedate but still with the hope that sex would be on the
menu by the end of the shorter session of drinking.

Of the three F’s it is hard to pick a single one which holds more importance they were each vital in a cog that had
three equally sized wheels and one would often be missed out during a normal
weekend but the other two would remain to keep the balance until the next, during
the off season after internationals which were a whole new area of thuggery for
the hooligan it would be likely that sex and violence would be the only
recreations partaken but it was also true that some teams had no fearsome crew
to lock horns with and usually this would mean a trouble free weekend, not
always as factions within the team could easily cause new fracas to develop,
and the fact is the chances of having sex were pretty much determined by the
females involved, sometimes they were game and others not, one thing I will say
in defence of this often derided group is the girls had the final say in
matters and it wasn’t very often they were disabused for reneging on a sexual
promise, I suppose the fact we had the courage to fight men showed we weren’t
cowardly enough to hit girls, it may sound like a romanticised version of
events but it held true in the groups I hung around with.

So there you have it the three F’s explained to the best of my ability, I make no apology for them and I do
acknowledge the very specific set of morals required to partake of them the
protagonists are far from immoral and those who judge them too severely will
only serve themselves as from what I remember the opinions of others meant very
little outside the loosely arranged society they dwelt in.



This is a bit of a rant about the state of things in this the finest of nations we have been given the Olympics based on our previous greatness and now we have shown the world our underbelly but the riots are just a symptom of the problem and this is my take on things, comment one way or another on how you feel about this matter.


Things are bleak at the moment for the English, we suffer at
the hands of a disaffected youth and our government seem unable or unwilling to
act in the interests of the English, make no mistake with what I am saying, the
British are well cared for, the welsh Scottish and northern irish have their
own assemblies to look out for them, they have their university fees paid for
them and prescriptions free to all, where as we in England have to pay through
the nose for all these things and more, we take the brunt of immigration and
shoulder the cost of running a parliament that has a third of its constituents
in another country with its own lawmakers.

Who will step forward and defend us in these hardest of
times? I don’t want to be represented by pseudo Nazis or idealists who think
that religion has a bearing on how things have gone. I don’t want jingoism and
extremism to be my choices, the current parties pander to voting youths by
making things easier for them in the criminal justice system, they look to save
money in the single area we can afford not to. Crime is on the rise, the riots
of this week have done nothing if not prove the police need to be empowered to
act in the interests of the public at large and not the criminals and their so
called rights, Human rights are for humans these kids are animals and a few
broken bones might dissuade the majority of them from repeating their
indiscretions and would at least appease Joe public who feels they have been
trodden on and left to watch the perpetrators walk away with free stuff and
little to worry about.

There are those who have decided to join the marginal groups
of right wing loons who see violence as a weapon of politics, the EDL or BNP
may suit some but I don’t want an agenda to get in the way of what’s important,
the rights of the English and yes they may not necessarily be white , the west
Indian descendents have been here a lot longer than some and have to bear the
brunt of the costs along with the rest of us, they pay tax and should be
rewarded for this in much the same way as the white English and Irish and the
Asians, in fact being English has little to do with ancestry, its about where
you live and pay your taxes, the hospital you rely on and the streets you have
to walk down, if they aren’t safe then you are being undone by the government
whether it be local councils or the national government in Westminster,
remember there are a large amount of regional MPs voting on English matters
that have no mandate from the English people.

What I would like to see is a secular organisation with no
colour bias who want what’s best for the people of Leeds and Southampton whilst
looking at the country as a whole, to see the long game and make arrangements
for the day when these so called disaffected youths mature into wastes of space
and bring the economy crashing down with them, its likely to happen and someone
should be looking at how England, not the UK or Europe are going to deal with
it. There must be a middle ground out there, sensible men and women who have
core values that would ensure a good moral fibre in England where parents would
be too mortified by their child’s behaviour to allow them out to carry out
these cowardly attacks on our hard working police forces.

If anyone knows why we are so badly treated by our own
parliament then please tell me and no conspiracy theorists on this, we cant go
down that road and buy into the ideology of a crackpot who would use the power
to create their own utopian version of the crap in their heads. England needs
to have an effective voice which will fight our corner and get the fairness we
crave, if Scotland paid for university then so should we but as they don’t why
is it we have trebled our prices? Why do prescription rates go up yearly when
Wales and Scotland pay nothing, if someone could put this argument in a
coherent and non biased way we could finally have someone to follow who may
just ensure we get our share of life.

Being English is a pleasure in many ways, we have a rich and
impressive history in the military world, sciences and sports, fair enough
nothing recently but its more than most small toe medium size countries ever
get to say and we ruled the whole world at one point, well in our minds it was
the whole world, we pushed back catholic tyranny when the rest of Europe cow
tailed to the pope and offered assistance to our European neighbours when they
would never have done the same for us, England stands for something in the
world, after all we have the The Queen, nowhere else in the world can they say
simply The Queen and everyone will get who you mean. The drudgery we suffer now
is as a result of anti English politicians being pre-eminent and allowing the
devolution of the UK to become an excuse to line their own pockets and improve
the lot of their country men, don’t get me wrong I understand their motives and
applaud their efforts but who is doing it for us?

In summation I just want a new clear voice for my country,
one that has no religious or ethnic agenda, just the best for his country and
if it’s a woman all the better as our best years in recent times came at the
hands of a woman, there may not many who would want her back but I would like
another like her to run things for us, screw all the political crap, right wing
left wing whatever I want the only thing on their mind to be the betterment of
life for the English people, cheaper University places, cheaper prescriptions
and everything else our neighbours expect as a matter of course.

Remember some of the greatest writers to ever live once
called this land home and in the words of the best there ever was, cry for
England, Harry and St George.

Life ain’t easy

Life ain’t easy


If life could be a little easier, wouldn’t it be nice

Less of the puppy dog tales and more of the spice

Babies would always be happy, no colic to cause them ire

Mums would get a full night’s sleep, and never be too tired

Work would be a joy to do, no dull drudgery to bear

Money would come easily, and debts would disappear.

We’d all be healthy all the time; the doctors could play
golf all day

Nurses wouldn’t have so much to do, but still get decent

Its never going to happen though, life’s gonna suck for ever

So all we do is plod along and except our lot whatever


Please Sleep

This ones self explanatory i think

Please Sleep

The need to sleep is all consuming but there’s no chance just yet
Un-medicated you grasp in hope, but know there is nothing to get
The joy of slowly passing into the realm of dreams draws you on
In reality you lay awake, the chance to idly lay there gone
What would you give for blessed rest, to turn your brain off
The chance to be alone with yourself, no stress to speak of
Drink could be a cure, the feel of alcohol dampening your soul
Is it healthy? no and once you’ve gone you come back deeper in the hole
Insobriety can seem glorious in the wakeful hours but in truth it hurts more
Your esteem is gone and the dreams you have are fraught and poor
Opiates could be the key, some soporific joy with psychedelic pleasure
The draw is great but this will not bring the peace you treasure
All the while you’re laying there, your brain engaged in constant rumination
You cannot stop but know full well down this road leads only to ruination
If you could change these things for just one night would life be better throughout
Would a nights rest bring you the things you have had to do without
Lullabies once worked there magic, you wish for days when this was true
Perseverance they say is key, but will this get you through
Morning comes, sunlight fills the room, and still no sleep has come
Others rise awake and refreshed the world for them begins to hum
While they can function you cannot not, tempers rise and you lash out
There is just so much of life that you could do without
In the end we are left alone to deal with our travails each night
There is nothing we can do to try and make things right.

Fury Uncapped

this is a little old and describes my constant tension between the bad evil and reasonably cool me and the fat middle aged friendly me

Fury uncapped


As anger erupts like a vesuvian flow, my body clutches
breath like a precious child

I quiver in fear at my darkest thoughts, scared of my soul
turned wild.

A stream of red envelopes my eyes, no rational focus to

The steam of hatred, borne of frustration, a proclamation
straight from hell.

The heart it beats like a hammer blow, blood coursing to my

To wound and rend as I see fit , to end life simply at my

If god could be there in the ether, a true deity with care
in mind

Could I then act without recourse, surely punishment I would

My conscience leaves me to my devices, no interference will
it offer

No moral code, no sense of right will prevent me against

If this is right, and my violence is no sin, no lord has intervened

Then I am nought but a monster, and hell is here convened.

My Beast and I

This is one I found on my harddrive from ages ago, Its not great but may appeal to someone. enjoy

My beast and I


I sit up here, on my beast up high

But is it me or the dragon that flies

Do I lift my soul and burdens too

If I am not strong for me, then who?

Do I look to stars for help for me

Am I alone? Will I always be?

The dragon I ride is fierce and dire

But is it me who is breathing fire.

Am I the hope and dream I need

Is my misery the stuff on which I feed?

In time will I come down from the beast

To reach the floor, what must I unleash?

In the end I know my place, I feel it in my soul

The beast and I, are one and the same, let the

Devil take us whole.


This is some crazy stuff I wrote a few years ago I was clearly in a very odd mood and I laughed when I read it although I dont doubt I was serious when  wrote it


I dont remember being informed when we stopped being Great Britain?
I can remember the rainbow nations creation and the axis of evil but I never
got a memo on the name change over here? Odd.

I love going abroad and filling in forms, usually to get
into another country, we should be given access by grandfathers rights to most
of the planet, after all we ruled it for a years, and not some ancient
historical crap like the Italians and Greeks, who ruled as much as they knew
about we actually went and found new races to enslave and destroy, we killed
more tribes than the Greeks and Romans together and we didn’t need any flash
navy or complicated infantry formations, why use a phalanx when small pox can
do the job, or send in the triremes if you have a virulent strain of syphilis?

Its a no brainer right and add alcohol to the mix and that’s
all you’re aboriginal people done for in one fall swoop. Anyway I digress, I do
go abroad to check on the colonies regularly and I fill in their petty forms
but I always put English down as nationality and they fucking hate it,

“sir we cant accept English as a nationality, its got to be
the UK, sorry!” Sorry! Not as much as I am, I was born on London, which should
be a nationality in itself as far as I’m concerned, but its definitely in England,
where the Queen comes from, via Germany but that’s a moot point, but I get to
the US and they tell me its not a nationality, the United States of America is
telling me I cant claim English as a nationality, the US, our own retarded
child has grown so fucking big its telling us what we are and what we should be
called, I don’t mind telling you I don’t know where this United Kingdom is but
it isn’t within the British isles.

You only have to visit Scotland when England are playing a
football match to see the divide, let alone a trip to bonnie northern Ireland, Jesus
they hate us and each other, the word united must have transmogrified
completely since the days it was used to describe Britain as I am British by
geography, English by right and a Londoner by the good graces of god. Nowhere
in my green and pleasant land could be described as united, aside from a few
shit footie teams, hell we don’t like people from the opposite side of our
towns in England let alone outside our own county, fucking United Kingdom my
arse, we are Great Britain ruled over by the English as the lord intended.

It’s true we aren’t really that great anymore, but that’s to
be expected, we’ve been pre occupied by the united quandary and let things
slip, we were once the fore runner of the planet, although I’d point out that
the current big kahunas all trace their lineage back to blighty so I guess we
are still doing the good work but from afar. We need to get the great back
though, to have the yanks refer to us as Great Britain, or have the aussies
hate us cos we’re better than them not just because they’re beer addled fools
with racism as a second language. I want to be proud of where I’m from and have
folks respect me for it not just tell me they love my fucking accent, what
accent I don’t have one.

I have a few theories on how we do this and its going to be
a tough task but I think as a nation we’re up to it, well the English and Ulstermen
are, we’ll be carrying the Welsh and Scots again but no change there! Firstly
we need a great leader, with Charles soon to be king, and I don’t mean to be disrespectful
here, no one loves the royals more than me, and I include them in that statement,
I mean how much can you really love someone who is just a slip in the shower
away from giving you the reigns, if your Harry do you really want Wills to stay
fit and well, imagine the pussy he would be getting if he was 2nd in
line to the throne, if it was my brother in the queue he’d have been gone
before he made ten years old.

Anyway Charles is a lovely guy, very generous, hands out
lots of our money to charities and I genuinely think he’d be a great king, for
say Norway or Monrovia, anywhere that eccentricity is a virtue but not here, we
have an image that has slipped as the Queen aged and unfortunately couldn’t
hold it up, Phillip tries to fill in but its not really a fair replacement, a
dignified regal lady with an in depth knowledge of the worlds politics and
refined manners being covered for by a Greek version of a red neck clansmen,
but he does try and boy his mistakes can be catalogued as a “how not to be a
statesmen” for future generations. Any way we need a firm hand on the reigns at
least until Wills get his crown, although he may be a soppy sod like his mum
and go round hugging retards and lepers, helping landmine victims and the like,
I’d much prefer him to order some of those land mines for us and put them on
the French side of the tunnel but that’s just me.

So anyway a leader needs to be found and we are the worlds
worst at electing anyone for anything, fuck me more people vote for a fat Scottish
lass who can sing than who runs the country and we wonder why we suck? Anyway I
have two theories and I can tell you I have straight away discounted one as too
fucking scary, and ill explain why, I thought why not have a single sex
electorate voting for the opposite sex, so only men could vote and only women
could stand, this would be a great idea if things were on an even keel.

We have experience of a female prime minister, some would
say a good one others not but no one can argue that Maggie was hard as fucking
nails, Americans would have called us heaven if she told Ronnie to do it and
when she was stateside she was the first lady, not some chimp faced lady who
could only say no, no Maggie was hard core and English and we were feared
because of it, but I thought hard about this and decided the cons far out
weighed the pro’s.

The pros are easy, men are brought up trusting our mothers
and they care and nurture us and use judgement, where fathers usually don’t,
they would find safer ways of doing things and even go as far as apologizing for
things just to keep the peace. I know you don’t think it but Maggie was just a
super mum with her 55 million children close to her heart at all times, coal mines
were dangerous and dirty so she stopped the men going down them, love? Some one
took an island of ours so she sent her bigger boys to get it back and even went
as far as sinking the other boys ship to teach them a lesson, yeah Maggie was
like a mum to us all and she took her job seriously, but she got screwed by her
underlings, little men with no idea about running a home, so how can they run a

Now the cons are not so much plenty just unavoidable truths,
for a start if the whole parliament was female it would be too clean, no one
could use the toilets or sit on the benches while they dusted, and 364 women
all doing things their own way would lead to in fighting, and women don’t do it
like men they bitch and gossip and the countries needs would be set aside for a
coffee morning and after lunch loose women would take the place of question
time. Now the main problem would be PMT, 364 women means that a fair few will
be “in season” at any given time and the acrimony would be devastating, I mean
imagine the prime minister is due on, she gets a phone call from Paris saying
they aren’t gonna buy our beef cos it poisonous or some airy fairy shit like
that, she isn’t going to just write a letter in protest she’s gonna go nuts,
and if the leader of the opposition don’t agree can you imagine the fall out,
especially if they are both due on, fucking hell you thought leaving the toilet
seat up was a reason to kill, these bitches will destroy the country over less,
a civil war caused by PMT with the additional aggravation of wardrobe abuse
would be too much to handle so I considered this and threw the idea out.

Now women voting for an all male parliament may sound odd,
but think of it, who are men more afraid of, their mates or their wives. You
might bull shit a buddy and laugh it off but lie to your wife and your history,
times that by 20 million and no politician is ever going to get away with
anything short of perfection. I mean a woman will rag on you if you don’t
perform in the bedroom, if the garbage isn’t taken out or the car is dirty, if
you don’t unilaterally disarm can you imagine the shit your gonna be in? would
you even dare to test the waters on that one, I fucking wouldn’t, I don’t tell
the wife anything just so I cant be accused of lying, which as an option can be
great, but eventually you do have to nail down some details in life and if you
fail in any part of the chain of events set in
motion not only will you be balled out to near deafness but its gonna be
brought up every day for the rest of your life.

I needed to extend
the length of my day just to fit in all the nagging, otherwise I was left with
a deficit and I don’t want it to go on after my death, she says I’ve got to
live to at least 80 just to fit in all the nagging that she’s on already, if I
fuck up again, and I will, often I might be 100 before she finally says
something positive to me, and that’s without the sex issue being thrown in.

No I think that if women put men in the job they would be
too fucking scared to fail and they’d never go back on a promise cos women don’t
have the ability to recognise their own faults in others, they change their
minds like the English weather and yet you take a different route to the chip
shop you better have a valid reason or she’ll be on you in a flash, women will
force the politicians to do as they said and god save them if they don’t.

So there we have my first foray into making Britain Great
again, a parliament of men voted for solely by the female populace, held to
their high standards of performance and inherent sense of justice regardless of
the subjects up for discussion.  Once
Wills is in the hot seat things may be able to change a bit more, a few beheadings
for expenses cheats etc may bring things up to a higher level of honesty and
putting stocks outside the house of commons would greatly improve public
interest in their goings on. With Parliament in check we could work towards
making decent alliances with countries that we could be mutually beneficial
with, Sweden sounds good and maybe a hot one like Spain or Italy, maybe not,
one of the new Balkan states then.  We
could fuck the US and Europe off as they have way too much to say for
themselves on our issues and they don’t exactly inspire confidence with their
own track records do they.

I may add to this on occasion as things come to mind and
they usually do especially after my medication kicks in so watch this space,
and if I do throw my hat into the ring vote for me and a greater Britain.

Divergent Paths

This is self explanatory, well to me it is anyway which may be wrong but its all the input I’ve got

Divergent Paths

We walk upon divergent paths, no plan, no direction

Our lives seemingly without purpose, death our objective

If we could see the way ahead would we fare any better?

Or would we seek to reside in the dark, our ignorance assured

Could we really be any more than we have ever been thus far?

Is it likely the world could be a better place than we have seen?

Our spirits are indefatigable, striving on regardless off our pain

Does this not allude to something in the future for us yet unknown?

If we shook off the mantle of misery and depression we may find solace

The world could brighten up and reveal its true beauty

We could be the beholder of such things if we allow it to happen

The possibility is there; just look and you’ll see it for yourself.

Untitled, for now

I havent titled this one, I can’t think of anything appropriate if anyone wants to name it feel free,

Some people look into an abyss and see the eye of god

Others will see a deep black hole sucking in all matter

Some will see a neck of a womb, a passage to life

Will yet more see nothing at all just blank space

Are any of them right, can one be proven over another

In this world all could be correct but also all wrong

You stake your life on what you perceive to be the case

And with what conviction do you base these things

How can anyone ever really know what is true in life

Perspective will always take over and your own truth will win out

Is it naive to believe another’s honesty at face value?

Would it not be true that you believe what you want to and no more

That to see the facts is too difficult for most and wishing it wasn’t true is easier

When we can finally all stand behind a universal truth, will the world will be healed?

Our Side Of The Bridge

Just another one centred around my BPD, sorry if I’m getting predictable

Our side of the bridge


Is there a bridge where you reside,

That helps you get to the other side

It seems so easy to those that do

They don’t get how its so hard for you

While we toil, to get some respite

They do not see that we’re in a fight

Life for them is a gravy train

Whereas for us, it’s full of pain

We need to strive just to exist

Our tribulations they have missed

I would not wish them our travails

But would like them to know of what  we ail

It would not hurt them to be aware

To show some sign that they do care

But in the meantime we stand alone, ready for the fray

We’ll keep our minds upon the task, until it goes away