REBLOG – WORTH A FOLLOW !
There’s a circle in the sky. Smooth and silver and bright. Everyone is afraid of it. Maybe they are right. Maybe it is a sign of doom. Maybe it is the beginning of the end. Maybe it is an invasion waiting to start. Or maybe it is someone hoping to be a friend. I see […]
via Circle In The Sky — cosistories
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Wholly inapproproiate.
Once a chap with a craving discreet
met this lass, quite demure, rather sweet
seems he got all his kicks
watching her with strange dicks
Now he lends her to men down the street
Mmmm tasty.
Okay so last time I wrote I professed to be back on the horse. remember that?
Turns out I actually got off it, shot it and proceeded to eat it. Not just the tasty meaty bits either. I ate the lot. I even devoured all the nasty testicles and hooves that they put into hot dog sausages and sausage rolls.
it’s a funny old thing trying to get back into the swing of things. I do it often and sometimes I do great and others quite terribly and it is often the simplest of things that trip me up.
Routine really works for me and once I am up and running I do really well but heavens forbid that routine gets disrupted and I behave like a bear who is intent on fattening up because he heard from a mate that it is going to be a particularly long winter and only dominos pizza and packets of pom bears will provide the calorific content required to stop him shuffling off this mortal coil sometime early February.
Now as much as I might pretend I am not really a fool and I know the signs and I realise what is going on but bloody hell I do so find it hard to turn things around sometimes. Oh and god forbid I shold try and turn it around on a week day. More chance of getting hit up the arse by a rainbow.
Apparently the cake lover in me is convinced that things can only be turned around on a Monday following a Sunday of pavlova and black forest gateau. God he is a greedy bastard.
Anyway, this week I have done my damnedest to defy that black forest scoffing porker and I have attempted to turn things around on a Saturday. Of all days!
I’ll let you know how I get on but right now I am off to get an apple as I am rather peckish and a horse cock kebab is sounding pretty good right now.
Hygiene. It matters.
Close and intimate
personal care neglected
Sweet ardour dampened
A bit more of that deep kinda stuff thats not at all inappropriate.
Those moments…
Drowning in sweet abandon and revelling in disregard
we feed the thirst oft kept in check
with the incessent drip of compromise.
So deep we drink and quickly quench
yet satisfaction evaporates
ripped from our mouths by daylight’s glare
and withered, shallow roots lose grip.
.
And in the dark as sunlight fades
and shadows creep and cold embrace
my heart ensnares and laughter rings
like church bells in my ears.
I crave you still and wonder how,
and where, and why and who
until at last my mind grows dim
and peace once more returns.
Off to the Yorkshire seaside.
You can read all about where this lark started here and our first night here.
The kids were off school this week and unusually Mrs Afterwards and I were off at the same time so we dicided to take the van for a run over to Scarbrough. The weather was unseasonably pleasant and I fancied giving her a good long run out. The van that is, not Mrs Afterwards.
There was no real need to pack anythign so we just coralled the kids into it, stopped at Starbucks for coffee and off we set. I was in such a rush to see what mileage I could get that I neglected to plug in the Sat Nav and in a most manly fashion told myself that I have been plenty of times and I would know when to turn off.
It wasn’t until we neared Thirsk that I realised that I am not to be trusted with such things and I had missed the turn to York many miles before. it did however turn out rather well because the Thirsk to Scarbrough road is a pretty detour indeed and if anything I felt emboldened to neglect the sat nav more often in an attempt to avoid the beaten track and all that.
Well that’s what I told myself because real men don’t need maps right ?
Anyway, the outskirts of the idyllic North Yorkshire Moors awaited and we enjoyed the sights of Kirbymoorside, Pickering and a host of other picture postcard locations as we made our way to the seaside.
Most of you will never have been to Scarbrough, but those who have will knwo it is a quite quintiessential English Seaside town. I spent many a holiday there when I was growing up and still love it to this day.
Now when I go I like to do all the same things I have done every other time I have been there. There are whelks and a walk from the north to the south bay and back, admirign the 1000 year old castle, penny slots, fish and chips, the occasional waffle, a mooch around the shops and a wander across the beach.
I know I could do something else but I find the familiarity quite comforting and am quite happy just being a regular boring old tourist.
Highlight of the day though was pulling over onto the verge on the way home and putting on the kettle and making coffee and simply watching the sun set. yes I know I sould like an old person, and yes I realise it sounds rather twee but it made me smile rather a lot.
Oh and the mileage? It was particularly economical and whilst I couldn’t quite work out what I was getting to the gallon (because I have no ide what a bloody gallon is ) I knew it was good which was a real bonus.
Shall we? A little nasty perhaps? I bet it makes Linda go eeeuuuwww.
Once a lass, quite aroused by raw liver
and my word how fresh tripe made her shiver
sweet breads made her quite hot
offal? Creams on the spot
A fresh snout made her moist and legs quiver
Our first night away
You can read all about where this lark started here.
My youngest and I decided that we would head out for a night and see what it was like spending a night in the van. Not wanting to rough it too much I booked a place on a Caravan Club site over in Lancashire for just the one night. Only cost me £19.20 and a few quid in diesel and off we went.
We were a bit behind in setting off so made a hurried stop at tescos to pick up a few things and then we hit the road again. Now I am known to just make things up as I go along and having spent about £90 I was barely out of Halifax before I had a niggling feeling that I had forgotten stuff.
As it turned out I had forgotten almost everything.
Turns out that you need more than a couple of sirloins, some beans, utencils, bread and butter for a night out. Whilst I had managed to remember to buy a pan I had neglected to bring or buy anything to eat out of. Well there was one paper plate but that was it. I had also bought the world’s sharpest knife which I proceeeded to slash my finger with within moments of opening it which reminded me that I had forgotten any sort of first aid kit too.
But I am jumping the gun a little there because before that we enjoyed a rather pleasant walk around the country park and saw some ducks and a giant mouse trap and enjoyed a sculpture trail. All very fabulous.
Actually even that is jumping the gun because prior to that was the setting up of the van for the night. Not too tricky once we organised ourselves a little and got things unpacked. I did manage to unplug the electric from the rather surly Geordie taxi driver at the pitch next to us but apart from that no major issues.
So the walk was done and dinner was cooked. Tom ate his corned beef, beans and sausages out of the can they had come in and I ate mine from the pan. We then cooked a steak too which was fantastic though it did make the entire van smell like meat and that we just ate straight from the pan.
By now it was about 6pm and we weren’t quite sure what to do with ourselves. Getting away from all the usual distractions will take some getting used to. We chatted for a while and then watched a film on the ipad and ate a few biscuits and finished off the milk we had bought for no apparent reason. Well Tom did.
That is when the pissing started.
Oh god he needed the loo about 5 times over the next 3 hours and every time it was a case of getting wrapped up warm and making the trip across the site. First few times it was fun but by the fifth I was ready to try and fashion some sort of cathater for him.
Eventually he was empty and I had hidden all beverages and we settled down to bed.
That is when the farting started.
I am not sure the beans were right you know. Probably off. Either way it was a most windy end to the evening. We both slept pretty well and it was nice and warm with the heater keeping things toasty as we slept.
Morning came a little earlier than I would have liked but we both woke relatively refreshed and following a leftover steak sandwich for breakfast we packed up and headed home.
We had a fabulous time you know, and it was just great to get away and realise the freedom it gives us and make some new memories.
Happy days and next time we may even take a change of clothes and somethign to eat out of.
Some of that non rhyming poetry lark.
Though eyes grow dim and final sunset calls
you ever still remain as bright as sweetest summers day.
And soft warm smile my heart delights one final evermore
and no regret, not one, no single moment would I trade.
.
Upon my door the darkness hurled
and screams to steal first kiss and each one since
though splintered wood lay all about my feet
protected, each defended to the last.
.
And when I lay upon the cold and unforgiving stone
hands crossed upon my fiersome pounding breast
you call me home and no more will I fight
and drift to sleep at last within your arms
It’s Saturday here already.
Time brings forgiveness
and oft makes right hearts once wronged
forgiveness once more
It is pretty much weekend in most places so why not eh 🙂
Once a seldom clothed fellow from Bude
loved to dance outside schools in the nude
now he’s locked up in jail
as he can’t afford bail
and does jigs for smokes, phone cards and food.
Well that’s some miserable shite right there!
With lies ignored and foolish hope,
your heart beats still for what you once held dear.
And bloodied fingers, chewed and raw
cling desperate to promises
and smiles once oh so sweet.
.
His hollow words drip sacharine
and cold once tender touch
and fist and tongue and crimson rage
cast blame and fault and fingers point
and head hangs low in shame
Ensnared, entwined, in unison
they lie, alone beneath the sheets
Warm breath, rough hands, those future plans
that pillow talk, now empty sounds
blood flows through veins but weak
And morning follows night alas
days slip into the grey
of habit, forced endearing smiles
and months, turn years and decades pass
and winter brings release at last
Sploosh!
Once a lighthouse keeper born in Chester
a porn addict and frequent molester
Early morn, late at night
All in yellow, a sight
Pleased himself in his wipe clean sowester
Happy Monday everyone!
Two lives become one
familiar, boundries blur
Hearts drifting apart
A Reblog…
This week’s guests in Jest are 3C Style and LISMORE PAPER Nightmare at the House of Style I have to get away from the House of Style. 3C Style is an ok person, I guess. Ever since she picked me up from Linda and Bill’s home, I’ve been eating well and sleeping whenever I wanted. The best part […]
via Guest in Jest #84 3C Style and Lismore Paper — Everyone Else Has the Best Titles
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That’s right. Capital letters! Don’t you dare let me find out you’re not!
Happy Monday people 🙂
“Had I, not blind, perhaps suspected
careless ways, my heart neglected
blood turned black, my veins infected…”
Had I, not blind, perhaps suspected
careless ways, my heart neglected
blood turned black, my veins infected
you sweet voice to me sings
And in my haste I gave too much
Compromised and eager, such
as one who craves too strong soft touch
and dark forbidden things
So ripped and raw and torn asunder
Day’s end calls as sun slips under
‘neath your waves, farewell my wonder
Cold to my bones, night brings
And in the lands of shade I’m lost
No coin to pay redeeming cost
My face grow pale as winter’s frost
To summer’s dream I cling
And on and on until the sight
Of day break pushes back the night
And there you stood in golden light
And hope eternal springs
nasty nasty nasty
Lonely farmer, long nights, all alone
watched hot animal vids on his phone
he succumbed to desire
as lambs set him afire
and the squealing pigs so made him moan
It’s just one. It will be fine. No one will know trust me…
handsome chap, sexual health, regards not
Hookers, men, women, wives, banged the lot
quite a shock, he found out
caught aids, siph, clap and gout
now he’s dead, decomposed, not so hot
My home away from home
You may have to endure posts from me on the subject of camper vans and camping because I recently bought a VW camper conversion.
To be clear, I don’t particularly care for camping. Let’s just get that out of the way. I have been a few times and whilst it was pleasant I never really got the bug. I do though like the idea of it, particualry as my boys are getting older (Sam is 14 now and Tom nearly 11), and see it as a way of spendign more time with them before they realise that I am a dick and never speak to me again. To be honest I think Sam already has a strong suspicion.
Now I know I could have just bought a tent but but that didn’t quite float my boat so I jumped in and bought a van which can sleep 4 (well probably not 4 people my size but we will see how it goes) and has solar power, a heater, fridge, cooker, etc etc.
So far I haven’t slept in it but we are enjoying going out for the day, making caramel latte, and just getting used to being in it and working out how to spend time in it without it become infested with rats or smelling like a tramp’s bottom.
I’ll let you kinow how I get on. Here are a few pics from the first 2 weeks.
Because it’s a poem. And it’s Saturday.
He shatters, violent, lascerated
crystal shards and tears
and love once wild and celebrated
withered, froze in winters depth
and counts lost wasted years
.
And lost he wanders aching,
broken, without port or land
in sight and hope seems taken
until there bright on horizon
‘gainst the tempest she does stand
.
She takes his pieces, safe, collected
fingers, bloodied, red and torn
he wonders lost but not neglected
and battered by the fury dark
He waits at break of morn’
.
Land firm beneath his feet he feels
her sun upon his skin
find home and hearth, hears church bells peel
there warmed, and safe, another chance
a new chance to begin
So lovely…
How do I love thee
Perfect in every way
Sweet where others foul
A fond farewell to these at last…
You’re the sun on my face
You’re the wind in my sails
My everything and my all
.
Im the breath on your windows
The rustling in your bush
Want to cut you open, climb inside
.
Breathing deep I inhale you, musty and wet
Hunched over your laundry basket
I squirm as my heart leaps inside
.
Carve you’re name into my desperate flesh
Your name drips from my lonely lips
I want to wear you , my corpse bride
Hard as the rock he so loves
A geologist thrilled by erosion
ox bow lakes, sedimentary corrosion
quite turned on by ablation
or a wet river basin
limestone layers cause trouser explosion
Yesterdays, forever and now…
Like golden first rays of sunrise you bleed across my room
seeping into my pores as I stir
and clouding my mind
you carry me away.
.
Restless, my lungs fill with your presence
and eyes flutter as I breathe you in,
transported to times long past as
laughter breaks the silence
.
Sweet whispered promises float through my mind
carried by the warming winds of memory.
And there before my eyes you stand,
until I wake and you leave again.
You know, I wanted that one to be so much more and when I started it I thought I knew where I wanted it to go but I was on a call whilst I was doing it with the finance team discussing some financial modelling they wanted doing and it kinda just ruined my vibe. It’s hard to wax lyrical whilst you comtemplate the time saving opportunities offered by the IBM Cognos TM1 modelling tools.
Next time I think I will just do it during my lunch instead. Never have been very good at multitasking…
I rather enjoyed this.
Afterwards 