Friday, 21 August 2009


i went to poetry school once, you know, though I didn't graduate.

John Barr

I have 3 tapes of John Barr
his growling voice
drowning the jukebox

in the pub. He thought his
story worth recording,
and it was.

Whether cutting Bob Hope to size,
or leading the world’s greatest
buffet car scam, John had class.

If he had a thirst,
he had a humanity twice as big.
If he was a casualty,

it was in the way we all are
when we sit and
think properly about life.

Put simply:
John Barr reminded a lot of us
of best reasons we’re alive:

and there’s a gap
we can't fill with words now
though we’ll try.

Thursday, 20 August 2009


Saddo as I fucking am, doomed to lurk alone about the fringes of Ayrshire surely the borders of Hell, I visit, courtesy of Aryshire Public libraries, ethe blog sites of others hanging themselves out to dry in cyber space and I came across- via Shug a man I have cause and history to respect and love, a whole group of people who atthe drop of a fucking hat seem prepared to expose theirb very souls to people they have never clapped eyeballs upon ,peoploe who come via their photographs with a perfect grin but when it comes to it who the fuck are they and why do they deserve your most private fears and dreams? At least when I indulged in group therapy i had to in order to preserve my state benefits or get out of jail that bit sooner.

Monday, 10 August 2009


1.It will rain for the next 3,000 fucking years

2. That Polish girl I fancy will be married already, to a
weightlifter whose just out of prison.

Tuesday, 4 August 2009


Well I'm back folks. And a technological heetch means I cannot inhabit my previous site but this is strangely fucking symbolic as I am reborn in a fashion, reborn and rehoused, in fact. And having gone through this enforced EPIPHANY I have decided, under coaching and advice, to rechannel my extreme negativity into something more positive and helpful to mysel;f and others.
Have i?
Have I FUCK!
In spite of attempts to turn me to Jesus and my Creative Writing tutor's efforts to make me punctuate and stop swearing I have emerged chastened but not UNBOWED! And my hitlist has burgeoned.


Another journey on the bus to nowhere, winding through the apocalyptic landscape of post industrial Ayrshire in the company of collected WHOORS, NEDS and DRUNKARDS who are all, THANK FUCK, having their lives turned around by attending college three days a week so that they can, after further education, better resume careers as WHOORS, NEDS and DRUNKARDS. The bus takes a long time, not just because it has to avoid the tumbleweed and burned out Ford Fiestas but because each passenger has a sackload of medical prosthetics, crutches, zimmer frames, or hugely expensive buggies for the single mothers' vicious children en route to the creches where they spell rude words in apphabet bricks while their mothers plan their next impregnation. Of course it's not all like that. Is it? YES IT FUCKING IS. It's time for anyone with a bit of intelligence,work ethic or sense of responsibility to man the lifeboats folks. THE SCUM ARE TAKING OVER. They're colonising us and the big laugh is we're paying for their upkeep while they DO IT. i KNOW i KNOW I can hear you say and I really want to agree with you that for every non-educated DOLEHOUND and SCRUBBER there are honest working class people looking for a chance to get a job and get on but when's the last time you met one? There arenae any in my street anyway.


COLD THAT ENTERS YOUR bones its winter nice for the weans but PISH for everyone else. I play the lottery every week and every Friday night, soused to the GILLS, I make up another ritual to try and persuade GOD, VISHNU, THE GREAT spirit, MANITOU, JK ROWLING or whatever other DEITY comes into my mind that my numbers should come up so I can escape this ragged freezing country full of deidheids and go and live in my dream in North Africa. I've tried everything short of CUTTING OFF MY OWN FUCKING HEAD and offering it on a plate. I've drawn the line at this because it seems to defeat the purpose but life's just one inherent CONTRADICTION so I might try it this Friday. Joke is if I did I'd win. I think I'll just keep going through my GLOSSARY of DEITIES PAST AND PRESENT till I get to some fucking OBSCURE MESOPOTANIAN HAMSTER GOD who will answer my 5 hour prayer ritual with six numbers. In the meantime I'm going to write to JK Rowling and find out exactly the deal she cut with Satan. Not Santa.