realitybites
making lemonade
^^^ I take it you're a famous, published poet IRL?
Croce - Workin' As a Wedding D.J. Blues
Well, I had just got out from the county prison,
Doin' thirty days for child abuse
When it comes to handlin’ children I’m no Dr. Seuss,
So I set about finding myself an executive position.
Employers wouldn't listen to the fact that I'm a brainy kid
The man said, "Son, we got all that we can use."
Now I got them steadily depressin', low down mind messin'
Working as a wedding D.J. blues.
Well, I should be sittin' in an air conditioned office and held in high esteem
Talkin' some trash to the secretaries,
Sayin', "Here, now mama, what’s the difference between a chickpea and a garbanzo bean?"
Instead, I'm stuck here scratchin' these vinyls for tired old bridesmaids
And skateboarding home in my soggy old shoes
With them steadily depressin', low down mind messin'
Workin' as a wedding D.J. blues.
You know a man of my ability,
He should be in a state of constant elation.
But I must first get myself straight, and then I'll just have to wait
Until I get off probation.
Well, now all I can do is a-shake my head
If you blame me for what happened on that fateful night,
Sure, my son’s arm is in plaster, but a child’s bones heal faster!
And Ms. Lunden says it’s alright.
So baby, don't expect to see me
With no double martini in any high-brow society news,
'Cause I got them steadily depressin', low down mind messin',
Ostracized from society for breakin’ my child’s arm blues.
No, baby, don't expect to see me
With no double martini in any high-brow society news,
'Cause I got them steadily depressin', low down mind messin',
Ostracized from society for breakin’ my child’s arm blues.
^^^ I take it you're a famous, published poet IRL?
I was trying to follow the lead of my zombie brethren at the Times and supply that classic blues lick this is clearly set to but I can't find it on youtube. One of these will have to do.
Is this another allusion to whom I could possibly be? One of your ‘hunches’? Your anonymous troll claimed to be a published author, didn’t he? I’m sorry to have to tell you that I am NOT a published poet; I only dabble in between my busy schedules as an ‘urbane Swede’, and as a regular contributor to the Blue Rose Society blog. To put your mind at rest I’ll take the initiative and reveal my identity to you, to save you the trouble of coming up with another ten wild guesses: I am in fact BrummieBoy’s son.
The family and I recently went to see Taylor Swift in London where we had a wonderful time, father knew all of the words to the songs and bought up a lot of the merchandise - we’re now in Rome. Just doing some shopping and sightseeing at the moment (although we also went searching for, and eventually found Morrissey’s old home, and when we did father scrawled ‘Milk is Murder’ in permanent marker along one of the walls outside, LOL!)
I know many of you likely thought that Benny-the-Barber-Beefcake was BrummieBoy’s son, but this is only partially true. Benny is father’s 3/4ths aborted son, the procedure wasn't entirely successful. He has therefore been living in the attic of our (sizeable) Birmingham home since the mid-1980s. He only gains access to the internet when the rest of the family are away on one of our (bi-monthly) vacations, as there is nobody to supervise him (apart from the butlers and servants, but they’re often unreliable). I am father’s only fully-birthed son, absolutely in control of my mental faculties, and unlike Benny completely continent. Continental too, as you can tell from what I've told you about the family’s bi-monthly jaunts abroad.
Our ‘Roman Holiday’ will have to come to an unfortunate halt soon, as I need to get back to Oxford to complete my end-of-term exams. Our family friend, Labour MP Dennis Skinner, says that I will have a job in politics awaiting me once I obtain my Masters. Always a gentleman, honest to a fault, although this guarantee of a career upon leaving University has led to my becoming somewhat lackadaisical about my studies (hence the extended excursions to Rome and London). Father requested that I create a profile here to keep the Morrissey-bashing alive during his leave of absence from Solo (but don’t fear, he’ll be back before the release of Morrissey’s latest ‘fabulous musical offering’ *chortles*).
If any of you see Benny please tell him we’re on our way back home, and if we find that he’s been making any contact with the outside world during that time, he’ll receive the usual punishment of being hanged from the attic’s rafters by his wrists and flogged.
-from Rome with ‘kind regards’
Mozambiguous (Brummieson)
Is this another allusion to whom I could possibly be? One of your ‘hunches’? Your anonymous troll claimed to be a published author, didn’t he? I’m sorry to have to tell you that I am NOT a published poet; I only dabble in between my busy schedules as an ‘urbane Swede’, and as a regular contributor to the Blue Rose Society blog. To put your mind at rest I’ll take the initiative and reveal my identity to you, to save you the trouble of coming up with another ten wild guesses: I am in fact BrummieBoy’s son.
The family and I recently went to see Taylor Swift in London where we had a wonderful time, father knew all of the words to the songs and bought up a lot of the merchandise - we’re now in Rome. Just doing some shopping and sightseeing at the moment (although we also went searching for, and eventually found Morrissey’s old home, and when we did father scrawled ‘Milk is Murder’ in permanent marker along one of the walls outside, LOL!)
I know many of you likely thought that Benny-the-Barber-Beefcake was BrummieBoy’s son, but this is only partially true. Benny is father’s 3/4ths aborted son, the procedure wasn't entirely successful. He has therefore been living in the attic of our (sizeable) Birmingham home since the mid-1980s. He only gains access to the internet when the rest of the family are away on one of our (bi-monthly) vacations, as there is nobody to supervise him (apart from the butlers and servants, but they’re often unreliable). I am father’s only fully-birthed son, absolutely in control of my mental faculties, and unlike Benny completely continent. Continental too, as you can tell from what I've told you about the family’s bi-monthly jaunts abroad.
Our ‘Roman Holiday’ will have to come to an unfortunate halt soon, as I need to get back to Oxford to complete my end-of-term exams. Our family friend, Labour MP Dennis Skinner, says that I will have a job in politics awaiting me once I obtain my Masters. Always a gentleman, honest to a fault, although this guarantee of a career upon leaving University has led to my becoming somewhat lackadaisical about my studies (hence the extended excursions to Rome and London). Father requested that I create a profile here to keep the Morrissey debunking alive during his leave of absence from Solo (but don’t fear, he’ll be back before the release of Morrissey’s latest ‘fabulous musical offering’ *chortles*).
If any of you see Benny please tell him we’re on our way back home, and if we find that he’s been making any contact with the outside world during that time, he’ll receive the usual punishment of being hanged from the attic’s rafters by his wrists and flogged.
-from Rome with ‘kind regards’
Mozambiguous (Brummieson)
tg;dr
If that’s how you feel then I must be doing something right. If you came in here fawning over me then I might have had to rethink my style of writing; obviously I’m not here to appeal to the likes of you. I always appreciate when somebody with no personality attempts to insult me, it’s the greatest compliment one could ever receive.
I don’t find it offensive in the least, as I’m sure you have a similar attitude towards many of the other obstacles you encounter in your life; such as striving for a higher level of education (tg;cba), reading anything which is lengthier than one paragraph (tg;dr), and rimming your boyfriend (gimme gimme gimme). Okay, perhaps the last example doesn’t make my point as cogently as I would like, but you can see what I’m getting at from the other examples I gave *smirks*. That’s the one time when you (CAN)ba rather than (CAN’T)ba.
I’m astounded at your inability to make your way through a 450 word post, when taking into consideration the fact that you’re a resident of Hull and therefore come from a long line of intellectual thinkers; e.g. the political tour-de-force that is John Prescott, the battered-faced former Hull City striker Dean Windass; and of course it’s also the city from which Philip Larkin sent his racist letters and immersed himself in pornography and debauchery, but I imagine living in Hull has that effect on people. You might throw Andrew Marvell and Stevie Smith at me as examples of creative and talented Hullians (well, not you, but somebody who reads might), however they’re from another time - and “the past is a foreign country” as somebody wise once wrote.
I must say that one thing I do find offensive is that you have the audacity to upload a picture of Mark E. Smith as your display, when the only things you could conceivably have in common with him are missing teeth and alcoholism. It’s possible that you additionally share a penchant for discussing mind-numbing reality television programmes, but the noticeable difference would be that he watches them in his downtime between moments of inspiration, while you base your entire life around watching them (when not froLICKING in the bedroom with your effete other half). If you’ve read this far into the post then I congratulate you, but I’ll stop writing now as I think you’re probably eager to leave so you can go and watch ‘The Man with the 10-Stone Testicles’, ‘My Baggy Body’, or another televisual feast of this sort courtesy of Channel 4. -stifles a chuckle-
Thank you ever so much though for giving me such a tremendous laugh at your expense today! It's a marvellous way to begin my Sunday evening, before I go for a stroll down to Trevi Square on my last night here to have a picture taken of myself in front of the famous fountain in which Anita Ekberg once luxuriated so elegantly. This is the good life! I might even jump in should the feeling strike me!
http://www.hulldailymail.co.uk/Meet...st-criminals/story-20171099-detail/story.html - anybody you know?
Regardless,
Cerebral-the-Chuckling-Caustic.
tg;dr
I had a feeling you might do that, but then I thought "she could never be that predictable". I gave you too much credit, you insignificant jackanapes. Don't bother responding to my posts again, I have no interest in exchanging messages on this forum with any members of the 'one sentence brigade'.
If that’s how you feel then I must be doing something right. If you came in here fawning over me then I might have had to rethink my style of writing; obviously I’m not here to appeal to the likes of you. I always appreciate when somebody with no personality attempts to insult me, it’s the greatest compliment one could ever receive.
I don’t find it offensive in the least, as I’m sure you have a similar attitude towards many of the other obstacles you encounter in your life; such as striving for a higher level of education (tg;cba), reading anything which is lengthier than one paragraph (tg;dr), and rimming your boyfriend (gimme gimme gimme). Okay, perhaps the last example doesn’t make my point as cogently as I would like, but you can see what I’m getting at from the other examples I gave *smirks*. That’s the one time when you (CAN)ba rather than (CAN’T)ba.
I’m astounded at your inability to make your way through a 450 word post, when taking into consideration the fact that you’re a resident of Hull and therefore come from a long line of intellectual thinkers; e.g. the political tour-de-force that is John Prescott, the battered-faced former Hull City striker Dean Windass; and of course it’s also the city from which Philip Larkin sent his racist letters and immersed himself in pornography and debauchery, but I imagine living in Hull has that effect on people. You might throw Andrew Marvell and Stevie Smith at me as examples of creative and talented Hullians (well, not you, but somebody who reads might), however they’re from another time - and “the past is a foreign country” as somebody wise once wrote.
I must say that one thing I do find offensive is that you have the audacity to upload a picture of Mark E. Smith as your display, when the only things you could conceivably have in common with him are missing teeth and alcoholism. It’s possible that you additionally share a penchant for discussing mind-numbing reality television programmes, but the noticeable difference would be that he watches them in his downtime between moments of inspiration, while you base your entire life around watching them (when not froLICKING in the bedroom with your effete other half). If you’ve read this far into the post then I congratulate you, but I’ll stop writing now as I think you’re probably eager to leave so you can go and watch ‘The Man with the 10-Stone Testicles’, ‘My Baggy Body’, or another televisual feast of this sort courtesy of Channel 4. -stifles a chuckle-
Thank you ever so much though for giving me such a tremendous laugh at your expense today! It's a marvellous way to begin my Sunday evening, before I go for a stroll down to Trevi Square on my last night here to have a picture taken of myself in front of the famous fountain in which Anita Ekberg once luxuriated so elegantly. This is the good life! I might even jump in should the feeling strike me!
http://www.hulldailymail.co.uk/Meet...st-criminals/story-20171099-detail/story.html - anybody you know?
Regardless,
Cerebral-the-Chuckling-Caustic.
If that’s how you feel then I must be doing something right. If you came in here fawning over me then I might have had to rethink my style of writing; obviously I’m not here to appeal to the likes of you. I always appreciate when somebody with no personality attempts to insult me, it’s the greatest compliment one could ever receive.
I don’t find it offensive in the least, as I’m sure you have a similar attitude towards many of the other obstacles you encounter in your life; such as striving for a higher level of education (tg;cba), reading anything which is lengthier than one paragraph (tg;dr), and rimming your boyfriend (gimme gimme gimme). Okay, perhaps the last example doesn’t make my point as cogently as I would like, but you can see what I’m getting at from the other examples I gave *smirks*. That’s the one time when you (CAN)ba rather than (CAN’T)ba.
I’m astounded at your inability to make your way through a 450 word post, when taking into consideration the fact that you’re a resident of Hull and therefore come from a long line of intellectual thinkers; e.g. the political tour-de-force that is John Prescott, the battered-faced former Hull City striker Dean Windass; and of course it’s also the city from which Philip Larkin sent his racist letters and immersed himself in pornography and debauchery, but I imagine living in Hull has that effect on people. You might throw Andrew Marvell and Stevie Smith at me as examples of creative and talented Hullians (well, not you, but somebody who reads might), however they’re from another time - and “the past is a foreign country” as somebody wise once wrote.
I must say that one thing I do find offensive is that you have the audacity to upload a picture of Mark E. Smith as your display, when the only things you could conceivably have in common with him are missing teeth and alcoholism. It’s possible that you additionally share a penchant for discussing mind-numbing reality television programmes, but the noticeable difference would be that he watches them in his downtime between moments of inspiration, while you base your entire life around watching them (when not froLICKING in the bedroom with your effete other half). If you’ve read this far into the post then I congratulate you, but I’ll stop writing now as I think you’re probably eager to leave so you can go and watch ‘The Man with the 10-Stone Testicles’, ‘My Baggy Body’, or another televisual feast of this sort courtesy of Channel 4. -stifles a chuckle-
Thank you ever so much though for giving me such a tremendous laugh at your expense today! It's a marvellous way to begin my Sunday evening, before I go for a stroll down to Trevi Square on my last night here to have a picture taken of myself in front of the famous fountain in which Anita Ekberg once luxuriated so elegantly. This is the good life! I might even jump in should the feeling strike me!
http://www.hulldailymail.co.uk/Meet...st-criminals/story-20171099-detail/story.html - anybody you know?
Regardless,
Cerebral-the-Chuckling-Caustic.
If that’s how you feel then I must be doing something right. If you came in here fawning over me then I might have had to rethink my style of writing; obviously I’m not here to appeal to the likes of you. I always appreciate when somebody with no personality attempts to insult me, it’s the greatest compliment one could ever receive.
I don’t find it offensive in the least, as I’m sure you have a similar attitude towards many of the other obstacles you encounter in your life; such as striving for a higher level of education (tg;cba), reading anything which is lengthier than one paragraph (tg;dr), and rimming your boyfriend (gimme gimme gimme). Okay, perhaps the last example doesn’t make my point as cogently as I would like, but you can see what I’m getting at from the other examples I gave *smirks*. That’s the one time when you (CAN)ba rather than (CAN’T)ba.
I’m astounded at your inability to make your way through a 450 word post, when taking into consideration the fact that you’re a resident of Hull and therefore come from a long line of intellectual thinkers; e.g. the political tour-de-force that is John Prescott, the battered-faced former Hull City striker Dean Windass; and of course it’s also the city from which Philip Larkin sent his racist letters and immersed himself in pornography and debauchery, but I imagine living in Hull has that effect on people. You might throw Andrew Marvell and Stevie Smith at me as examples of creative and talented Hullians (well, not you, but somebody who reads might), however they’re from another time - and “the past is a foreign country” as somebody wise once wrote.
I must say that one thing I do find offensive is that you have the audacity to upload a picture of Mark E. Smith as your display, when the only things you could conceivably have in common with him are missing teeth and alcoholism. It’s possible that you additionally share a penchant for discussing mind-numbing reality television programmes, but the noticeable difference would be that he watches them in his downtime between moments of inspiration, while you base your entire life around watching them (when not froLICKING in the bedroom with your effete other half). If you’ve read this far into the post then I congratulate you, but I’ll stop writing now as I think you’re probably eager to leave so you can go and watch ‘The Man with the 10-Stone Testicles’, ‘My Baggy Body’, or another televisual feast of this sort courtesy of Channel 4. -stifles a chuckle-
Thank you ever so much though for giving me such a tremendous laugh at your expense today! It's a marvellous way to begin my Sunday evening, before I go for a stroll down to Trevi Square on my last night here to have a picture taken of myself in front of the famous fountain in which Anita Ekberg once luxuriated so elegantly. This is the good life! I might even jump in should the feeling strike me!
http://www.hulldailymail.co.uk/Meet...st-criminals/story-20171099-detail/story.html - anybody you know?
Regardless,
Cerebral-the-Chuckling-Caustic.
tg;dr
- - - Updated - - -
I love how he just drives away.
tg;dr
back in jhs, I called KROQ and they played my dedication to a girl named M.