Wonky the Dinosaur

Wonky was a dinosaur.
He was a T Rex.
He was green and he had 2 small arms which were only long enough to hold his willy if he needed to do a wee.
If he needed to make a rainbow,he used his tail to swish the rainbow clean away.
His tail was as long as his body and it had spikes on it.
He loved to swish his tail all over the place.
even when he wasn't swishing rainbows.
Wonky's mum and dad were also dinosaurs.His mum was pink and his dad was a moody blue colour.
This suited him greatly because he was also a very moody parent who didn't agree with Wonky's hobby which was skateboarding and drawing monsters.
Because Wonky's dad was an old dinosaur from a different age,he didn't understand skateboarding and drawing monsters.
All he understood was watching Monkey kick the coconut on television and other old fashioned games where dinosaurs where taught to challenge others in tests of strength like long distance stone throwing or who could breath fire the furthest.
Wonky didn't understand these games.
His father called them competitions
Wonky called them cobblers!
Everyone was good at different stuff.
Just because you couldn't run fast didn't make you a failure.
Just because he couldn't do fractions or maths didn't mean he couldn't do the raddest boneless ones on his skateboard.
Wonky knew that everyone has their own special thing that they are brilliant at,just that sometimes it takes a while to find it.
He knew that he was different from his friends but it didn't make him any better or worse than them.
Wonky's best friends were a seahorse called Bonjour and a wood pigeon called Puffin.Bonjour was a french seahorse who just happened to have a naughty streak in him.
Having a naughty streak in you didn't make you bad,it just meant that you sometimes struggled to do what you were told.Bonjour the naughty seahorse was like this.
His parents were bakers and when Bonjour was asked to help out in the shop,he'd always end up having sword fights when wonky came to visit with the stale french sticks that they didn't sell at the end of the day.
Bonjour would teach Wonky french words.
His favourite was Le Chat noir which mean the black cat.
Wonky liked this a lot because he was a Star Trek fan (so was his dad.At least they had that in common!) and Captain Kirk's real name was William Shatner with sounded a bit like chat Noir!
Star trek was a television program from the stone age about space monsters and flying saucers!It has Spooky space music to it that used to make Wonky hide behind the settee.
When ever he watched Star Trek,he always imagined a black cat as the captain of the space ship!
Puffin the wood pigeon didn't really say much but they all loved hanging out together.He would perch in a tree and call to his friends Coo coo coo
Coo coo
coo coo
One day,a group of rock n roll musicians heard his cooing and had him sing on one of their most famous songs.
they were called the Rolling Stones and the song is called "Sympathy for the devil".You can hear him cooing at the end.It's quite a famous bit!
Not many people knew that up until now.
go look it up if you don't believe me.
Wonky,Bonjour and Puffin are best friends.
On sunny days they love to go skateboarding!

"THE LAWS OF THE ROAD"

Hello there.

My name is Alex Johnson and today i want to talk to you about "YES TRANSPORTER,HORSE BOX AND OTHER FASCINATING DEVELOPMENTS IN ON ROAD GAMING" These "laws of the road" that are taking the non anarchic punk rock community by storm.


YES TRANSPORTER entered the world as we know it on a mild june day in 2009,In Wales.
Founding father Frank Bingham was driving his Audi car with girlfriend Polly in the passenger seat.

"Yes Transporter!"announced Frank upon spotting a Voltswagon Transporter van.
Polly smiled.
Enchanted.
The legend was born.



Here's how you play:



YES TRANSPORTER,THE RULES



Yes transporter can be played anywhere.It can be played on your own,as a team or with multiple players,pitting their wits against one another in what is quickly becoming the greatest motorway game of all time.

The rules are simple.

Spot a VW Transporter van?
Then state quickly and clearly in a loud voice,
"YES TRANSPORTER!".

Bang! you've just got your 1st YES Transporter.

A proud moment for all. Feeling smug?
Just try wiping off that smile.

Impossible.

Yes people,"Yes Transporter" is that good.

BUT,don't get too cocky. Yes Transporter has a "catch".

Call a "Yes Transporter" to a parked Transporter or (god forbid) another make of " van" and "Shame on you",you've played a "Foul".And how does it feel?

"DREADFUL".

Need i say more?

But remember,it's just for fun.





But the world moves on and so has "Yes Transporter,the Law of the road"



"DECLARED YES TRANSPORTER INCORPORATING OTHER EXCITING RULES AND "DUNGEON MASTER".



We live in a world that never sleeps,a world that never ceased to throw up new wonders and sights.

And when different "Non Anarchic Punk Rock clans" meet,there's sure to be FIREWORKS!



Duncan Redmonds is the leader of one of these "Non Anarchic Punk Rock Clans".



When i 1st came across Duncan i was absolutely fascinated to hear his alternative "Laws of the Motorway".



We were driving to Derby as part of his "Non anarchic Punk rock/Morris Dance clan","The 5 Shitty Fingers" when out of the blue he trumpeted "HORSE BOX"!

Something stirred deep within.Could it be possible that he too had devised some sort of primitive "Eye Spy" game to while away the miles?

"HORSE BOX"

Good grief we all thought.Duncan's having a moment.

And he was,but it was a regulated moment and all part of the fantastic new game that's taking the highs and byways of England by storm.

Play "HORSEBOX" today and feel part of the herd.

Here's the rules:



Like "Yes Transporter" it is played on a journey. Unlike yes Transporter,there is a clear "Winner",so is likely to appeal to the more traditionally masculine amongst us in the "Non anarchic punk rock community"

Like "Yes transporter","Horsebox" is bellowed with excitement at the sighting of a horsebox.

Well done.You've had ya 1st.Enjoy the feeling.Pride isn't a bad thing.
In moderation.

Horsebox is a gentlemans game.

Don't be surprised to be patted on the shoulder by your friends.

So who's the "Winner"?

Well,Horsebox isn't about how many you see.

A stationary horsebox can still be called.

The noble horsebox in a muddy paddock is worth no more than the overturned horsebox causing a traffic jam.

So who wins, you'll be asking yourself?

The answer is simple.

The last horsebox spotted on your journey is the winner and the envy of your traveling companions.

Fuckin Banging.




HORSEBOX PENALTY CLAUSE





Call a cattle trailer?

Call a sheep trolley?

SHAME ON YOU.AND SHAME ON YOUR FAMILY!!!!!

Yes.The penalty is severe.

your family is "SHAMED".

You won't find Redmonds calling a "Foul" Horsebox.

He wouldn't put his nearest and dearest through the "SHAME".

And it won't be forgotten in a hurry.I'm frequently called "SHITTERMOUTH" by my band mates when a cattle truck is spotted.

Yes,i called a fake horsebox.

I won't be taking those kind of risks again.

A Horsebox risk taker is known as a "Shittermouth".

An unpleasant term to describe someone who has "shit"quite literally in his or her mouth.

Trust me.Those risks aint worth taking.



Let's move on.




I appreciate that a fair few of you would of been put through ones paces with the last chapter.
I was left breathless writing it.But we are realists.We accept that life has it's ups and downs."Horsebox" mirrors life and so through horsebox,one comes close to death too.
Having friends call you "Shittermouth" is no picnic.
Survival of the fittest.
Life is no picnic.

"BOG VAN" however is a win win winner for all and sundry.
Bog van is a wooded glade compared to "horsebox".
A bog van spotted is a bog van spotted for all!
What is a "Bog Van"?

A bog van is a portable lavatory on the back of a trailer or on a flatbed lorry or truck.
On spying a "Bog van",one declares in a light hearted tone "BOG VAN" whence you turn to see your friends all smiling at you and admiring your dicovery.
Suddenly you are everyones favourite traveller.The "hunter gatherer" of the vehicle.
Well done.We're proud of you.And YOU should be proud of yourself.

IT'S JUST SO MUCH FUN.

Here are some more prizes to be found on your journey,but rememeber,LOOK OUT FOR THE PENALTY CLAUSES!

"MANOWAR" The noble Manowar is a house on the back of a lorry.
Not to be confused with a "Bogner Regis(caravan)".The "Manowar" is the sort of home found in a trailer park.A caravan without the mobility option so to speak.
They tend to hang out over the side of a flatbed lorry causing long tailbacks on smaller roads.


GOOBER PATROL"A canoe on a roof rack.(be careful.you don't want to call a "Goober patrol"only to discover to your dismay and your fellow travellers disgust that it is in fact a kayak.Oh the "SHAME".


VANILLA POD:A mattress tied to the roof of a vehicle.
The Vanilla Pod is the Crown jewels of the motoring gamer.The most precious, rare sighting to be found in all of England
Crime doesn’t pay.
Don't be tempted to "Fake" a Vanilla Pod.
My betrayal of fellow game players and it’s subsequent discover has resulted in the labelling of my family “Traitor Judus Betrayers”
Oh the shame.



JOY DIVISION:A black taxi(but outside the M25)

LUTHER VANDROSS: A fast food burger van

SLAYER: Very rare with only ever one reported siting since its conception, the elusive Slayer is a dog sticking its nose out of the window of a vehicle.

SIGUE SIGUE SPUTNIK: Bicycles attached to vehicle.Very common so not often included in games but good for beginners.

Honey Wagon: The vehicle and pump that cleans portable bogs.

Bognor Regis: A caravan. Again,too common for serious play but good for beginners.

Pete Townsend: A black Volkswagon Lupo. (rarer than you would think)

WANKER: a Porsche.
On calling a "wanker" the other players have to shout "WANKER" Too. Forget to shout "wanker" and YOU become a WANKER.

TOTAL CUNT MOUTH:
A convertible sports car(with the hood down).The original "TOTAL CUNT MOUTH" was only "called" out of season,ie outside the Summer months of June/July.After a short debate and unanimous verdict it was decided that anyone with a convertable was a "Total Cunt Mouth"
On seeing a "Total Cunt Mouth",the "Spotter" must call "total Cunt mouth" but in the style of Masterchef legend Greg Wallace.
Players then have to poor scorn on the Convertable by screaming "AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGH"Anyone not "Arrrrrrrrrghing"becomes a "Total Cunt mouth"

DUNGEON MASTER

He’s where the self appointed Dungeon Master’s part comes in.
WHEN THE FINAL GUTTERAL SHREEKS OF “ARRRRRRRRGH” HAVE SUBSIDED
The "DUNGEON MASTER" nominates a single lucky player to mutter “Shitter” under his breath,(also in the style of Masterchef legend Greg Wallace.

THE END

TEENAGE

my teenage.
I kick office doors through on my walk home to my Carnaby street basement.
Sport.
Boot the locks through.
I sleep in alley ways,naked but for shorts in Summertime.
My shoes fuck knows get lost.
I get carried home from the Brain,the Wag after smoking hash.
I see the room falling away.
I can't lift my head.
I sleep where i fall.Always.
I wake on Sunday mornings.
Without keys and money.
On brick paving.
I wake to brick paving.
Tarmack.
Piss Alleys.
I wake on cardboard.baking sun beating down on my death thirst.
Next to real tramps and rats.
To tourists staring.
I wake the landlords and pub managers for a tenner to see me through.
Pubs shut on Sundays.
I am 17

THE WAR

I stand on the frontline but i am beyond danger.
To my right are West Germany,to my left the England.
Back and forth the charges go,missiles sailing above.
The Germans have the Skakespears Head to ransask,the England have the postcard stands and window displays.
And i stand there smoking.
Watching the unfortunates take it on the ground at my feet.
A mass game of Kabbadi right there on the brick pavers.
I am beyond your violence.
I have no fear.
You see my face.
I am a fuckin cunt with a skinhead and i cannot be harmed.
You glasses bounce off me like cherry blossom.

SNOWBALLS

I throw snowballs at the business man walking home through Green park.
innocent beautiful snow peace and me a horrible fuckin rat cunt.
He sees me
sizing him up.
Menace with a fuckin snow ball.
Who is this fuckin freak throwing snow balls at me?
Why does he stand there throwing fuckin snowballs at me.
Why doesn't he moves.
But i just block his path and throw at him.
And then he's on me,
trying to put me over.
and i laugh.
Give a shit mate.
Give a fuckin shit.

YOU'VE ARRIVED

It's a funny old place when you arrive.
All the old issues of being desperate disappear.
The ultimate freedom.
Law has no hold,money has no appeal,guilt is nothing,fear is nothing,pain is nothing.
It's end of hunger.the end of craving.
It's the place of the lawless.The freedom of the lawless.
You are the day.
As you please ,as you want.
Nothing matters.
Fuck,steal,hurt,
Nothing touches the sides.
Who fucking cares.
I don't.

NIGHT WATCH

She is at her desk all peace and calm but for the groans of the recently removed,transplanted,bypassed.
The rattle wheeze of ventilators and sobs.
Clarity.
Clarity warm,calm and clear.
Wobble leg opiate clarity calm.
To stop the shakes.A secret peace in the dead of night.
Peace amongst the desperate.
Peace in the last chance saloon.
and i feel like a fuckin fraud.

THOMAS GUY HOUSE

So then i'm on the train.
From routing round the parents suburban home for money when the call came.
The surgeon for me?
Mr Cameron
But i'm not supposed to be here?
God works his magic somehow.
They have a bed.
And my arteries are to be fixed
My drowning is to be stopped.
The internal bleeding
after i've been killing myself the past 72.
Trying to die for the pain i've created for everyone.for years forever.
i hold myself on this train.
I am white and nothing
the light on my face doesn't touch me.
I can't speak
i speak my name,i am here.
I am as light a a feather.
And then they are jamming the drip into my hand.
Crunching on tendon.
Pain and real and blood sprays out.
Old as a fucking shipwreck.
Trudging to my bed.Hospital bed,White and clean.
And all that horror that surrounds me doesn't touch the void.

NEXT

And every part of me,every atom is scared.
I need to be held, to be loved.
I need my life to not be this.
this hell
I need release,to be fixed.
Take me God.
Remove me.
Hold me.
Spinning around this fuckin world.
Sky above.
Fucking remove me from this,
Hold me.
.

Chicken and cheeseburgers

Yo.
My girl Aoife writes a food blog called the Gannet.
She loves all things food.
Up until i met her i didn't give a monkeys about food.
I had lived on a diet of cheese and Marmite and chilli and if i was feeling indulgent then i'd add pesto too.
But this aint about me.
Coz of her love of food,we get to go check out all the latest cool eating spots.
She loves all that street food stuff that is currently all the rage.
Hooray,
don't we all love burgers and hot dogs.
Anyway.
Let me say this.
There's this place up the road from Kentish town,heading up towards gospel oak.It's this poncey posh pizza place BUT,behind it in a shack next to the LA Fitness carpark is definitely one of the best (if not the best) cheeseburgers you'll get in London.(i personally prefer it to Meat Liquor,London's official best burger spot)
Place is called Dirty Burger.
They sell cheeseburgers,crinkly retro chips and onion ring type fries.Also coffee with free refills.
They aint "In and Out burger" (a Californian burger chain and the best in the whole world) but they are very very good.Refreshingly,surprisingly good if you aint used to a good burger yet.
Why am i writing about burgers?
Since when did i care?
Well,last night i went to the Chicken shop they have now opened in the basement (Dirty Burger and Chicken Shop are owned by the poncey pizza place).
If you like Nandos then you will literally be killed by this place.
Ok,their menu.
They sell rotisserie chicken (which is cooked over massive grills in front of you),fries,coleslaw and corn on the cob.
When they brought over my corn,the chick asked if i wanted more butter.
Obviously my darling so check this yeah she then poured from a jug loads of amazing melted butter and herbs all over! Hooray.
We ordered a whole chicken,fries,slaw (yum) and corn.
On the table is a wicked hot sauce which reminded me of Encona mixed with something sweet.It tastes great.They also have like a smokey sauce which has a chipotle taste without the heat.
I'm telling ya.
this meal was a complete joy.
I really mean that.
If you take a girl on a date to either one of these places,
you will get laid!
It's an amazing dining spot.
2 of the best places to eat in London under one roof.
Dirty burger is small.There's a few bench seats round the side and space for about 8 in the middle.But it's a burger.I ate mine in the street on some steps.It felt pretty romantic actually.
Chicken shop has seats a plenty but is still pretty imformal.
The service was fast and great.
These poncey pizza bastards have proper nailed it!
It's all very exiting!

x

Cement you Cunt Forever!

I love my Cement you Cunt Blog.
She's seen a lot of life these past four years.
I am in the process of getting "Notes from the Sex manual" published right now.
So i have given the Sex manual another home over at Tumblr.
It's easier to read.
Here it is.
Maybe you should follow it.
Love you all.
x
http://notes-from-the-sex-manual.tumblr.com/

HOW TO MAKE GIRLS CUM 2012-WHAT WE DO WANT THOUGH

We love the smell of pussy.
We like it on our face and fingers when we leave in the morning.
The smell of vagina is the smell of sex.
And i tell you what,you get that more from a hairy cunt too!
You know your pussy.Keep her clean but don’t worry about too fresh.
Maybe shower in the morning then do a seriously hot sweaty workout in the afternoon.
That musky smuthole of yours will be driving us mad all through dinner!
The musky pussy is the dogs bollox!
At least in the dating stage.
If intercourse does seem on the cards though a piece of advice.
Give her a quick work out beforehand in the bathroom with a couple of salivary fingers.
Seriously,this’ll remove any embarrassing bits and freshen her up too!
Quick,to the bathroom!

HOW TO MAKE GIRLS CUM 2012-KNOW YOUR VAGINA

Men love vaginas.
We can put our cocks in them if you let us.
Real men don’t care if you have hair or not?
We don’t give a shit.
We like the smell,
We like the taste,
We like your piss flaps,
We like to twang them.
We’d like to gargle with them if they were long enough!
we like your assholes
we would like to put our heads up your fannies if they would fit.
Fuck porn.
Fuck that sterile pink bullshit.
When we pull down them knickers for the first time (And let me just say,we don’t give a fuck about your knickers either) you basically own us.
We are facing the best thing in the world.
A fresh vagina.
There is no better high in the world than making friends with Siobhan for the first time.

'HOW TO MAKE GIRLS CUM 2012"-THE "BEST" FRIEND.

So your girl has a "best friend"?
He happens to be a guy?
How very unfortunate for you.
Don't kid yourself,your instincts are correct.
He is in love with her.
I'm telling ya,unless he is an ex boyfriend and the relationship had run it's course,99 percent of the time this will be straight up truth.
He will eventually break and confess his love to her.
What's worse,she knows but will deny it till she's blue in the face coz she's a cunt.
You'll argue over this man every other week.
When his confession finally occurs,she'll be outraged,
she'll feel "so betrayed".
But your victorious "i told you so"will be short lived.
Your smug gloating smashed in it's face when in retaliation she tells you that she actually fucked the bastard a few months before you arrived on the scene.
Isn't that wonderful.
I weep just writing this.
Rule 1,
never trust her "best friend" if he is a man.
But these fuckers aint actually men though,
they shall be known as "sniffers".
Best tell them to fuck off early before they cause inevitable problems for you later on!

"HOW TO MAKE GIRLS CUM 2012"-FURTHER NOTES ON ALCOHOL.

Alcohol is fun.
It loosens the tongue and the knickers.
And the ass.
And the brain.
I loved alcohol so much that it totally fucking destroyed me.
But that is because i am an alcoholic.
Luckilly for you though,not everyone has it in them to be an alcoholic.
Phew! Where were we?
Yes.
White wine.
Women's fighting juice.
I'm telling ya,Chicks and white wine don't mix.
Think of all those fights you've had.
Well the chances are that if drink has been drunk and fights have then been fought then the magic ingredient to really start the party'll be a nice chilled glass or bottle of chardonnay.
Why am i telling you about this?
Well my friends,getting laid and making girls cum has gotta start somewhere and this'll be the dating stage.
So when you are in Pizza Express and the tasty Italian waitress is taking the drinks order,beware the woman that orders the white.
She is mad.
And if she isn't now,she will be in half an hour.
Does make for a crazy fuck though but it'll be like walking the tightrope.
juggling her madness with your lust.
And a reminder,drunk girls take longer.
But then again,what do you care,
You've been knocking em back all night anyway.
Hooray.
I am just jealous.
Jealous of drunken sex and wild abandon.
I weep into my tepid water.
Not really,drunks are boring as fuck!
x

GOD WHAT ARE YOUZ LOT LIKE!

LADIES.
I DO LOVE READING 50 SHADES OF GREY FROM OVER YOUR SHOULDER
ON THE MORNING RUSH HOUR COMMUTE.
YOUR KINDLES DON'T FOOL ME.
I ESPECIALLY LIKE IT WHEN YOU TWIG.
REGISTER YOUR GUILTY SECRET DISCOVERED.
EXPOSED,
HOT BETWEEN THE THIGHS,
NOT SURE WHERE TO LOOK,
TO PROCEED OR SHUT THE BOOK.
LADIES READING OLD SKOOL PORN IN THE MORN IN PUBLIC!
YES MATE!
NOW THAT IS PRETTY COOL!

"REMEMBER THE FLYING MEDALLIONS" X

DIDN'T LIKE TO SAY I TOLD YOU SO BUT......

SO NOW YOU'RE ASHAMED OF THE STARS ON YOUR SKIN,
THE TRIBAL BANDS (THOSE GOD AWFUL SINS)?
DO YOU FIND YOURSELF ROLLING
BACK DOWN YOUR SLEEVES?
IT APPEARS THAT YOUR ARMS
ARE COVERED IN CHEESE.

bakerloo line

I like the Bakerloo line.
It's good coz there isn't arm rests between the seats for wankers to spill over and make your forehead prickle with rage.
Yes i guess i am sensitive
but i really wouldn't dream that anyone actually likes to have a strangers arms squashing into your sides.
Dunno about you but it feels pretty intrusive to me.
You know the drill.
Keep your arms inside those arm rests.
They are not there for you to play "Captain of the fuckin ship"
They are there to separate, you fuckin spatially unaware fuckwit!

Surely if we were meant to put our arms on the rests there would be 2 rests between each seat!
I hate your fuckin arms.
I don't want to have to sit with my elbows forced into my stomach.

Anyway,
And then i got out at Finsbury Park and ten policemen descended upon me coz they thought i was a knife wielding Finsbury Park stabber!
Like 5 police cars across the road and everything!
How everyone looked at me from the other bus stop as if i was the Finsbury Park knife wielding stabber!
Luckily i'm not.
So they let me go.
And said "sorry,you know how it is"
I said "I do"
Hope they caught him.
x

Bad morning

The anxiety grumbles away at the bottom of my gut,
at the bass of my cock.
It needs no reason.
It reminds.
There is no respite.
Bells in the ear,
shreek of the steam whistle
pins and needles in face.
Breath god damn it breath.
Anxiety cuts deep
into your soul.
As deep as it wants to go.
Alcoholics anesthetize their horrors.
The stoner pushes his anxiety into the abyss towards schitzophrenia.
Anxiety rides a knife edge.
Anxiety share a home with denial.
Anxiety wears you down and hangs your friends.

Anxiety can be beaten.
Dispatched by the obvious that screams in everyone else's face but our own.
Quit the poison,
eat the food,
drink the water,
sleep the sleep,
move the muscles,
repeat this mantra.

you live in hell,
what's another week of pain to you anyway?

Worth a try i reckon.

Where are thou tastey Pot Noodle?

Why'd ya take the salt out of Pot Noodles?
Now i just feel guilty for adding that 30 whatever percent back in?
You stupid cunts.
We don't eat that shit for health reasons.
Fuck you.
And as for Skips?
Balsa wood fuckin crisps more like.
We loved Skips.
they were delicious fizzle on your tongue prawn cocktail yum
and you wankers destroyed that.
8 percent of people are sensitive to salt.
Most of us have kidneys that deal with all the unwanted salt in our diets.
92 Percent of us have had our Skips and Pot Noodles raped because of you bastards!
Let junk food be junk food!
Let junk food live again!
Stop fucking nicking the salt!
x

Pwosion and his aquatic knowledge t unes link

FLYING THE JAPANESE FLAG

THIS IS THE CLASSIC WONK UNIT ALBUM.
ABOUT TO RUN OUT OF HARD COPIES.
WILL ONLY BE AVAILABLE IN DOWNLOAD FROM NEXT WEEK I RECKON.X

PWOSION AND HIS AQUATIC KNOWLEGE

7" SINGLE AND DOWNLOAD FROM 18TH JUNE

Shirt design for Elbows shoot peeps! x

Blimey!

"It was 20 years ago today"..that The Flying Medallions had our first gig at The Powerhaus in Angel! Wow.xx

TROLLEYS

YES TROLLEYS THANK YOU.
DOUBLE ALBUM WITH SNUFF'S DUNCAN REDMONDS ON STICKS!
YAY!! X

NOTES FROM THE SEX MANUAL: MINDFUCKING

Up until now these two innocent words have been given a bad rep.
A mind fuck was generally associated with a perplexing and unpleasant situation.
Not anymore, today we are here to change that.

Mindfucking is the latest craze to storm the streets of England.
Why leave all that horny imagination to the teenagers when you could have some yourself.
Let me let you in to a little secret.
Inside our head is a thing called a brain, an organic humanoid central computer not unlike that seen in the Hollywood movies. Now apart from the ability to move our body parts telepathically (without touching them)the brain has an even more "spooky" function, the imagination: the ability to see things in your own head that others cannot! Yes! Not everything you see is really there. The imagination can also be explained as "brain eyes" (to see with the brain only) and we'll be using this terminology from now on.

So there you have it. A short recap on the human brain.
Let us proceed.
Ever been with friends and a group of young nuns walk past? You know what everyone's thinking? Wouldn't it be good to deflower those frosty white women of God. Someone might make a crude suggestion to a chorused mumble of agreement, but the moment has passed, the nuns have gone and the story is over. Or is it?

"i just mindfucked the redhead in the middle while the others beat on deerskin tambourines right there on that wall"

What just happened here? The nuns had passed. Surely it isn't possible. Well it certainly is brother and a whole lot more. You see, i mindfucked the nun with my braineyes and it was brilliant.

MINDFUCKING: THE RULES. FOR TWO TO MULTIPLE PLAYERS

Once the start of play is established, players keep an eye out for potential mindfucks. Once the sexual mindfuck partner has been established the mindfuck takes place there and then. The visualisation of the act is projected into ones conscious. Once complete, the fucker shares his liaison with fellow players. The spontaneous act of the mindfuck throws up some interesting situations. Why I would fuck the busty redhead wearing nothing but a knitted bonnet I'll never know? The beauty of the mindfuck: let the subconscious take the lead.
Honesty plays a key role in this game unlike in real life where honesty leads to imprisonment and persecution. To lie or exaggerate ones mindfuck is simply not on. Don't bite of more than you can chew. Expect to be asked intimate details afterwards, any cheating is easily spotted. If one can't recount in detail the vaginas of an entire ladies hockey team down to moles, piercings and labial dimensions then don't even think about trying to bugger them as well. Keep it simple, keep it safe, get in there, fuck, get out and share the good times with friends.

PLEASE NOTE:KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THE MORBIDLY DEPRAVED OR THOSE THAT ACTUALLY ACHIEVE ORGASM (TO FILL THE PANTS) MID GAME.I'M AFRAID TO SAY THAT YOUR COLLEAGUE IS PROBABLY A PRACTICING RAPIST AND SHOULD BE REPORTED TO THE AUTHORITIES SOON AFTER THE GAME HAS FINISHED.

X

Moosehawk.A rough biog

Moosehawk formed pon a scaffold in Blackheath,South London,around 2005.
It was sunny.
I was pebble dashing.
So i got chatting to the site foreman about his spiraling drink problem and (being an ex alcoholic myself)the positive ways to combat it.
I make music i told him.It's like my release,my AA.
If you come up with some lyrics i'll form a band and write an album for you(not believing for a second that he would ever do this).
We finished our days work.
24 hours later a jubilant Ryan climbed the scaffold again armed with a sheaf of hand written lyrics,pretty much the entire Moosehawk album.
Shit! Hahahaha.
Calls were made that afternoon between mixes and by close of day amazingly had our line up.
But what to call ourselves?
We were definitely gonna be an Oi band and i kinda liked the name "Cuntin Skins".
Later that day however,talk turned to women and in particular a girl we both knew,and would we sleep with her!
"Urgh,not that Moosehawk!!"was Ryan's reply.
"Moosehawk?What the fuck's a Moosehawk?"
The gods had spoken,we had our name.
Rehearsals followed swiftly and the tunes came fast and furious,about three a session,consisting of unused riffs of mine and an anything goes attitude to songwriting.
I would put guitarist Crispin on the spot and tell him to play the first thing that came into his head.
Who cares if it was a ripped off riff.
Another song (Look at me now,it's The Phantom)was bass player Pwosion's tuning up routine.
I'd grab everything and cobble it all together with a shouty chorus,ready for the true genius of Moosehawk,Ryan and his beautiful words.
Innocent,truthful and kinda sad.Geezer lyrics.Brilliant.
We recorded as we wrote and had the album wrapped up within 3 months of forming.
Our first show was a near sell out at London's ULU.
Moosehawk went on to play a handful of other shows before Ryan nicked a tonne of money on the credit cards and did a bunk to Thailand.
A life as a career criminal followed with one of the most ingenious scams i have ever heard of.
Alas,i can't share it with you but rest assured it was of the noble variety and no one suffers because of it.

That pretty much sums up Moosehawk.
I'd like to dedicate this album to Moosehawk original Paul.
Paul joined us in those rehearsals.Drunk,dancing and very silly.
A melancholy soul forever battling the bottle.
Sadly like too many others,he didn't make it,dying in Thailand from an overdose of methodone sold to him for pain relief from a broken arm.
He was a good soul.
x

(The Moosehawk album will get a release one of these days in all it's straight up anthemic glory.Am stupidly proud of it)

THIS IS THE ALBUM!!! http://wonk-unit.bandcamp.com/album/the-amazing-adventures-of-moosehawk

Codiene

I have a codiene addiction.
Tis a bugger.
I developed my addiction to codiene through injury.
That old chestnut
the bad back.
Bane of my life
my lower lumber.
That hot dull ache
from buttocks to knee,
that shreeking lockjawed agony
when muscles lock in spasm.
So we need opiates
synthetic and real to release us.
Let's talk about Nurofen plus.
Our highstreet saviour,
the friend we trust.
The friend and royal pain in the ass.
Begins with an itch around 3 oclock
and mild flu by 6.
That tickle in the tummy that tells us someting aint quite right.
Looking up,never far from sight
our friend lays.
effervescent packets on the window sill.
Foil wrapped in maybe too many places.
Pockets and drawers,
under the bed
on the floor.
in tool bags and skate packs.
Amongst the guitar strings
but rarely with the other medicines.
they won't last that long.
Now 3 days in
and i'll continue to ignore
that tickle,
screaming at me from my belly.
So the cycle repeats.
Get through a week
and we join the blessed land of the normal again.
And we flush the couple pills we have left,
coz to be honest,
a couple aint really enough anyway.
Until the next time.
When the back is red raw
and we justify our trip to the chemist.
Regular painkillers just don't cut the mustard see.
Oh how we kid ourselves.

The origins of the name Wonk Unit

About 5 years ago,myself and original Wonk axe man Gavin "Mad Dog" Kinch were laying a crazy paving driveway.It was miserable,cold and wet,and then it started snowing on our sorry asses.And i looked over and said "Look at us,we're a right f**king Wonk Unit aint we!" "Wonk Unit" we exclaimed.What a great name for a band.So there you have it.A reference to the cold pathetic miserable and depressed.A description that sums us up perfectly in no way whatsoever.x

Guts

I wrote the lyrics for "Guts" about 2 weeks into sobriety in 1999.
Long time ago.
I was messed up.
Am still sober now though.
yay.
x




Disappointed,i hope you are
you should of called
i guess you had better things to do
with whom,i know
Getting angry
you can test me all you want
i used to play the chess game.
not anymore
now days i'm just colder
and i won't mess
what ya see is what you get
and i'm pissed with you.
no more insecurity
you can stoop as low as you wanna go
and i'll hate you
I'll despise you
and i'll worship you
you got my stomach in a grinder
just one postcard email or a phone call
i'm open honest fair
can you say the same things about yourself
don't hang around at the airport
you won't find me at the bar getting drunk
i'll be sleeping on my own
having nightmares i'm your yappy dog
lost with out an owner
where is my partner
you are my spring time

Pizza on Golden Hill lyrics requested by Tommy Gladding

i got in a taxi with promises of booty

B and 22 street San diego

i met you on your front porch

g string wearing ugg boots

i wanted to fuck you you said lets go



and i felt whole

i felt like an adult for the 1st time



i left you on that Saturday

crying on your door step

off to skate with tony Hawk and ride into the sunset

i offered you the chance to join me on that road trip

but you cut short the agony to end our relationship



i met you in a sweatshop free los angeles american aparrel store

i said i liked your hair and you liked mine and that i'd pick you up and 9 oclock



Off to los angeles into the arms of another


now 18 months on i kinda wish i hadn't bothered

i lost my heart

my soul

seduced corrupted

like Author Lee alone again

it's a struggle adjusting

Winner

Hi everyone.
My name is Alex Johnson and today i'll be writing my second installment on urban street games.These modern day "hopscotchs" that are taking our fair capital,Ye Olde London by storm.
Last year i wrote the phenomenal best seller "Yes Transporter,the laws of the road" and can i just say,i'm a very rich man because of it.
Now translated into 18 languages,even the French are playing!!
Hohohoh
Oui oui!Non non avec chat noir?

Enough,let me slip into my soft goose shawl and begin with the rules.

WINNER,The rules

For 1 to 6 players (preferably friends but works equally well with work colleagues)

Winner is the best game that has ever been invented!
It's almost as good as "Yes Transporter".

So i am a man.
Not a gay man,just a boring "normal" one,so the "Winner" is almost certainly going to be female.

Can i just point out that if a "squadron" of women were playing or perhaps a "strangle" of homosexuals then the "winner" is most likely to be a man.
Have you noticed i didn't say "male".
This is because it would leave a gateway open to pedophiles forever on the search for loopholes in the law making the sexualization of children legal.
The word "male"can include children as well as the elderly both of whom are illegal to fuck and also discusting.
The sour bitter taste of children and the elderly are things only a pedophile can ever love,the reason why so many schools and hospitals employ them.

Anyway,the "winner" is the person you most want to have sex with on your travels throughout the day.
So say you and your labourer "Adam" are working on a driveway down Hermatage road and you spot a nice looking lady walking past,then i'll make the "call"
"WINNER"
Your co player then have to acknowledge your winner and agree,even if it is sometimes reluctantly.
To disagree shows bad sportsmanship and defeats the lighthearted point of of the game.
So where to go from here?
Well,when the next fit lady is "spotted" you have to decide if she is the new winner,ie hotter than the last and if so,then all hail the new WINNER.

WINNER PENALTY CLAUSES

Thought you got away with that too easy didn't ya?
Well there's no going back on a winner.
Once a winner,always a winner,at least until the next one is "spotted".
"Loser" is not a nice term to use when referring to "Women".
The only "Loser" in this game is "You" when ya get it "wrong" and it does happen surprisingly often amongst all the excitement.

THERE'S NO GOING BACK ON A WINNER!

We've all done it.
Called a fit piece of ass from 100 yards away only to discover to our horror that on closer inspection she's a pensioner with good legs,blonde hair and a refusal to grow old gracefully.
Well she's your winner now and that means that you have to have sex with her!!
That's the risk,
that's the brilliance of winner!
You see,in the excitement of the fresh catch,mistakes can be made.
You make your bed,you lay in it AND THAT MEANS YOU GOTTA HAVE SEX WITH A GRANNY!!

CHAPTER 2,EVEN MUNTERS CAN BE WINNERS!!

Sometimes pickings can be slim.
Perhaps you live in a small village without a 6th form girls college packed with "horny vessels".
Don't despair,let the games begin!!

PUT TRUST IN YOUR COCK!

Blow that whistle,wipe away the tears,stop worrying.
You just gotta play with what ya got.
Maybe your winner in the village is the angry butchers wife with the bust from heaven?
Maybe Sally the lollypop lady has the ass of a teen but all the sexiness of a plank of mossy wood?
So who decides?
Answer,YOUR PENIS!
Ask him and he'll always give you a straight answer.
Where would he rather be?
Soaping himself stupid between a fat pair of tits or slipping around in the lollypop lady's wishing well?
His answer will be forthcoming and direct,your cock will always know!
If there's one single fact that i've learnt in my miserable life,then it's that you can always trust your cock to make the right decision for you.
Happy gaming squire!

x

Facial hair and stage etiquette

I have a few minutes to kill before i roll.
So let's talk about facial hair.
You are allowed to be clean shaven
You are allowed to be hairy and unshaven.
you can have beards.
BUT
You cannot have groomed beards.
They mustn't be all even and straight with clean cut lines.
It's a fuckin beard yeah???
Coz you can't be fuckin bothered to shave.
That's the point.
It aint no fashion statement.
OK ok ok i'll pull back a bit.
You're saying that you need to shave the lower neck coz of the rash that develops?
Hmmmmmmmmm
I'm not sure.
Why not lose the whole fucking lot then?
In fact yes.
Lose the whole fuckin lot.
You aint allowed to shave the neck.
Next you be rockin goaties and soul patches!!
And even you must know by now that these definately aint allowed!
I remember i once had a goatee.
When i was 21 years old.
It consisted of a few loose strands.
I was so proud because they made me feel like a man.
Those strands were the only hairs that grew on my face.
And i loved them.
For like 1 day before i realised i looked like a fuckin ponce!
So ok,
goatees are allowed,
but only between the ages of 11 and when you actually need to shave.
If you are reading this now and you have a goatee on your face (saying that,long stupid sideburns too),go fucking clean yourself up.
Groomed facial hair is soo fucking lame.

OK,got that out of my system.
Apologies to all my friends who have groomed facial hair.
I didn't mean it.
Really i didn't.
Phew.

Next up.

"Take a step forward"

Now these words make me want to kill.
Have you twigged what i'm talking about yet?
Yup.
you've guessed it.
It's when bands tell the audience to take just one step forward at gigs.
It's the worst thing ever.
We all know it's the worst.
We all know we've heard it a million times before.
But the stupid cunts embarrass us into that awful tiny shuffle forward.
Cuuunts!!!
What,do you think we are going to suddenly start fucking each other on the floor to your pounding punk rock clatterprattle?
While you stand there like gods.
Wanking over us with your massive cocks?
I mean come on.

Also,all that staged,rehearsed syncronized swimming routines you pull on us.
I remember the first time a band pulled that shit on me.
First night of the tour they came out and blew me away.
I was like wow,these people are amazing.
The bastards really know how to put on a show.
Just so entertaining.Woooh
but then the next night i was perplexed (yes perplexed) to be watching an identical performance.
And then the next night.
Then i realised that these people were cunts,
frauds,
and paedophiles.
Reading from a fucking script!!
I mean come on.
Yeah
I MEAN COME ON!
One more thing before i finish really offending all my band mates hahaha
Playing the old "buy our merch coz we can't eat and can't afford petrol unless you do!"

I mean for fucks sake come on?
What sort of cunts are you?
That worse that all the shit begging adverts i see of an evening when i'm forced to watch cookery programs with my girlfriend.

On that assumption i very much doubt you'd of got further than the 1st night.
Coz we don't want your home burnt punk/scar/rockabilly/grunge/indy/flavor of the month by numbers bullshit.

Stop lying to us.
Stop lying to yourselves.
Is that how you spell lying??

Actually i'll tell you what?
Maybe i should just stop being a cunt.

Yup.
x

New years resolution

I failed
before the day was out
to write
365 posts,
but to be honest,
what waffle
they would
have been
anyway.