I Had a fucking skinfull last night , 36 hour bender on the filthy booze and chisel. on the way home i thought id pop into old Flo’s Over the road from my house and use it as a good deed bargaining tool with Jo for the enevitable onslaught of my failings as a hunter gatherer and Man when i got thru my own fucking front door .

After talking about to the old girl about her varrious tumors and how long she has to live and how none of her family come to see her and that the “vultures are circling” for her goods and chattels ,i’d realised id made a mistake of some note and was bored Fucking shitless.

To cheer the old cow up i cut her off talking all this morose shit and told her of my theory on dormant alien life in Leigh on sea.. “ it very well may be Flo, that they will have some form of antanna which will make a clicking and whirring sounds when sexually aroused… also their pineal frontal lobe may be developed to such an extent , that when resonated at 25,000 rpm, they can see entities in the third dimension, seeing things that no man should see.”"

To demonstrate my thesis to this Dopey Mare , I skulled 2 lines of off the rock bugle on her Granddaughters Photo , then hunkered down on all fours making aggressive pig like grunts and Ghoulish Moans while moving like a crab across her ice rink threadbare carpet while simulating a prolonged climax against her nest of tables with the head of my Straining purple cock out , nestling on a scatter cushion, before I Finally came shuntering my load in convulsive fits over the fucking Cat.

For some reason she broke down hysterically and asked me to leave . No drink No grub No nothing!!.

As recompense, i swiped a nice picture frame that should be worth a few bob and provide a stake money for the nags tomorrow. There was a picture of some cunt in an army uniform holding a rifle with a chest of medals dated june 3rd 1944. So i took it out of the frame and put it in the charity bag for starving africans , should cheer them up a bit, always a bit long in the boat for some reason those cunts, all that year long sunshine as well, they want to be over here with all this facking rain!!. I ask ya. Cunts.

Then to top it all off, would you believe it !, all i could hear as i crossed the road having done my good neighbourly deed for the day was a whining high pitched “wilf !..wilf! where are you wilf!”. no wonder he fucked off !.

And on top of all that agg , i still copped an earful from my Richard the 3rd Jo for being 26 hours late !

Good Deeds.Mugs Game. Stick to Prog.

    EraserOfLove I skulled 2 lines of off the rock bugle on her Granddaughters Photo , then hunkered down on all fours making aggressive pig like grunts and Ghoulish Moans while moving like a crab across her ice rink threadbare carpet

    LOL.

    Could only be improved by Dulux Connection’s ’Let’s Beuk’ being played in the background.

        Er indoors jo hacked my jaded clubbers accout last night . thus she saw all the shit i’ve posted on here ..

        She was most displeased. She unleashed correctional re education about my person via the holistic tools of her trade; i.e precision knee and elbow strikes, the reverse armbar , her patent pending calf slicer and her speciality , the anaconda Choke.

        By the end of it all i was nothing more than her vassal state.

        Thus, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Diggers and his prog hounds of love for the best bunk up i’ve had since a brass from Burkina Faso fractured both my first and third phalanx at her leisure in bespoke thumbscrews above the hoop and grapes pub in leadenhall market in the fading light of 1999.

        I was watching this richard burton film the other day from 1971 , ‘Villian’. He played this character called vic deakin , clearly based on ronnie kray.

        thus I remember meeting one of the krays former lieutenants, Tony Lambrianou in wraps wine bar, leadenhall market when i worked up there in the90’s..

        He told me that the krays employed this Circus Performer, Stage name ‘Umungo son of a Zulu warlord’ who happened to have a 13″ schlong when proud of lust.

        Anyway,Tony told me that During interrogations by the Krays carried out on sundry bertie smalls / Ham Yard rent boys who didn’t fancy a bout of scatology with ronnie while he was off his nut on black bombers, if no info was forthcoming, the unfortunate soul was put in these wooden stocks with his arsehole in the air , and if his answers displeased ronnie and reggie , ‘Umungo’ would take centre stage In full tribal chief Outfit, and thrust in once, twice, three times a lady and leave the geezers guts deposited on the floor.

        Job done, They krays then went home and had a cup of tea with their Mum Vi, or perhaps dish out a made to measure stripe across the arse cheeks of a couple of Drag Queens in esmeraldas Bar with their bone handle chivs.

        This got me to thinking that Owen Jones would have been the perfect kept boy for Ronnie , sucking off Lord boothby at his behest and taking Umongo to the hilt on the chesterfield at one of Reggies Parties at his bijou apartment in North London while Labour Mp Tom Driberg held the super 8 in one hand and his cock in the other.

        lowenbrau.

          You are truly the peoples poet!

            EraserOfLove , ‘Umungo’ would take centre stage In full tribal chief Outfit, and thrust in once, twice, three times a lady

            Made me lol!

              gcw Glenn’s prose pieces are ripe for publication as a collection together perhaps with his musings on the twin Dons: Given and Masson and Ilyas Chair.

                Big fan of his work.

                Sort of an estuary Tory Stewart Lee who loves the beak.

                a month later

                what a load of fucking old shit i post when i’m riding the white winged horse of gear and filthybooze.