Fools

Fools! Mwaahahhaha. Sorry, I've always wanted to do that. Well, seeing as it's just me and you here, how about we put on that old Harry Secombe record and strip to our underpants? We could dance the night away. That's if you're a woman. If not, then please accept this firm handshake and be on your way. Thanks for coming.

Who do I imagine is reading this?

A crack-eyed crow freak, fleecing his nephew for change whilst idly tossing his bendy yellow fingers over a crumb-caked keyboard. Random words in his mind! Bingo bonzo. Here you are. Welcome, pull up a blind.

Fat bat trucker, honking smoke from his mid-west, hauling dixie in a freakvoy to venus. Tucking a chompwich between his many chins and pausing amomentary while tracking young flesh over unspent highways.

Smiling mommy, orange juice and bright yellow lights, fixing drinks for Jimmy and his runaroundrunaround friends. Play ball little children. Behind her eyes is a void blue, fixatives and laxatives, strung up blackballed by a clan of no-ones. Slap leather, bad smiles now and now, mascara running.

Bored zeitgeist freaks, skinny, t-shirts emblazoned with the butt of a thousand bad punchlines, no time for losers, their hair like a weasel's easels. Welcome strumpets, find yourself here.

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