Wednesday, 5 March 2014

050314     1515

an organery orgasm 

the guitar breathes as the finger slides up the fret 









9am 050314

Mr Mulligan percussed while i was masturbating 


the committee seem to have allocated me 15 minutes 

before neighbours start interfering 

i got a little bit of train 

n feel like a bicycle 


















Tuesday, 4 March 2014

the killers live in a state of impunity 

and it is thus coddled and celebrated that we revisit them 

Guardian 






834

rude food pizza train 



040314

who else would be writing a book 

in praise of her ex boyfriend 




030314

Einaudi is more structured 

than other modern composers 

you'd think it was from the 1920s or something ... 

*************

n theres all the drama 

with the ambulance n the gas n morphine n stuff 

n maybe life seems a bit dull sometimes 


*********

n what happened before computers 

how did you back up your work 

and were great works ever stolen 








Monday, 3 March 2014

1817

MR MULLIGAN IS STARTING TO CLICK 






1740

Mr Mitchigan my neighbour 







1024

MR MULLIGAN IS EMBARKING ON HIS 

SECOND PERCUSSION THRILL OF THE DAY I HAVE HAD ENOUGH ... 









sex n the stix/ Dads army usa




she has a terrible lust for Sophie 

n the relationship with 

Scarey was broader in the sense 

of having different things going on 

the cyber children n the arts n stuff 

n she couldn't have him 

ie he din seem to be hers 


************


n she has plenty milk 

for all three of them 


1821

Sophie describes his cover versions 

as cheap imitations see 

he is very clever in the simplest most obvious way 

like someone holding a hand up 

n saying look I've got five fingers 

n it was too simple to notice 

n i will need comradeship with Dev 

because my relationship with Sophie will 

come under attack too 

n Dev n Scarey need food , milk to work 

with n this i have got .... 








1217

thankyou Dev 

Dev is a vey good boss/comrade with benefits 


941

who do you think 

you are kidding Mr Hitla 

if your up old Englands bum