Author: flyagaric23

  • Off the Top Morning Moaning

    Let it flow let it flow let it flow

    Something about opening up

    And spilt ink
    Johnson Farage Trump Three Wanketeers

    About psychology and votes

    The glint in your eye

    The wind in your hair

    The sun bouncing about you

    So many things, so little time to…

    Back to breathing living survival

    Back to the word, the global village

    Back to the world

    Colour does matter
    Johnson Farage Trump Three Wanketeers

    Identity, sex, music taste matters
    Show me a hierarchy of your values
    Otherwise the conversation’s in tatters

    So many things to say, so little ear space
    Where can I write and speak this exotica
    Pursue the air music

    The paper bag on a branch

    The cat sneaking over the fence
    Um’s and R’s and “Oh my god’s”
    Hidden gems in every family loom

    Each Kitchen, bathroom, bedroom
    Hides a genius of that space
    A magician to any outsider
    Knows the stairs like the back of his hand
    Could walk the path blindfolded
    Everything in its right place

    No space for change
    Johnson Farage Trump Three Wanketeers

    NO machine to rage against
    Rage against the information
    Truth and Lie
    Up up up up

    The bit of pavement outside your front door
    The handle of your tea cup
    The hole in your sock
    These are the things missing
    Under the torrent of geo-political deep state shades
    Light in the pantry
    Wisdom in your Grandma’s biscuit tin
    Dew drops and flower tops
    Once forgotten memories

    Here now this is it
    Shit or bust
    Do or die
    Funny or not funny
    Choice is yours, future up for grabs
    And for your children,and  grandchildren
    A day out in Devon fishing for crabs

    The postman tripping up the step

    Your first bike ride
    Wet dinners at school

    Meeting new friends saying goodbye to old
    Think you muppets, think

    God damn it read into the stuff

    And when you see lies kick up a stink

    Whatever you do in life
    Do it easy and to the best of your ability
    Tolerate my manias and I’ll tolerate yours

    Special effects are not the cause
    Special defects and special ways of hiding shit

    Ask me anything and I’ll give you my answers
    I want conversation

    A truly democratic vote would be
    Johnson Farage Trump Three Wanketeers

    On an individual basis
    Tick the box for getting out of the E.U
    Tick the box for staying in
    Each and every vote is treated with respect

    Get rid of this system where a bunch of

    Half witted peeps, Oasis!

     drag the rest of the country

    Off a cliff
    WHO speaks if direct democracy
    Each person can decide to remain in or leave?

    Why does a country have such control of its subjects
    And hold them to ransom based on its political climate

    Johnson Farage Trump Three Wanketeers

    Leave us the fuck alone and get out of my business
    Vote for your own laws for your own family and friends
    Leave my decisions up to me and my community
    All talk of national and/or foreign policy is bunk

    Represent yourself

    Encourage others to do the same
    Be the change you wish to see

  • How do you measure betrayal? A betrayometer?

    What degree of bad faith, how much disloyalty and how to measure treachery?

    Can you make a hierarchy of Betrayal values? Here’s my first attempt, and please keep in mind that one man’s treason is another man’s genius, depending on the conceit of nations and the conceit of scholars (media conceit). When the tabloid newspapers declare X to be a traitor, and betrayer, compared to what I ask?

    Betrayometer Level 0: Everybody who changes their mind based upon new information.  

    Betrayometer Level 1: Jeremy Corbyn. Betrayed some labour voters, the jury remains out to what degree.

    Betrayometer Level 2: Hugh Grant, betrayed his wife by soliciting a prostitute.

    Betrayometer Level 3: John Bercow, betrayed parliament (according to some people) but hard to put your finger on specific evidence of this.

    Betrayometer Level 4: Edward Snowdon, betrayed his employer, the CIA, arguably in the interests of the American people and citizens of the world?

    Betrayometer Level 5: Ian Austin, Labour M.P for Dudley, who betrayed his Labour party by voting for Boris Johnson’s Brexit deal. 

    Betrayometer Level 6: Ruja Ignatova, Bulgarian scammer, betrayed customers of OneCoin with a Ponzi scheme to the tune of 4 Billion. 

    Betrayometer Level 7: Kim Philby, betrayed the British, and allied spies for the Russians, as part of the Cambridge Spy Ring.  

    Betrayometer Level 8: James Jesus Angleton. Betrayed everybody and everything he got near to. The magister Ludi of betrayal, lies, and spreading double-cross paranoia.   

    Betrayometer Level 9: Boris Johnson, betrayed his wife by having a mistress or two, betrayed his brother and father, betrayed his own party, betrayed the people of the UK, betrayed the DUP and Ireland, betrayed the Queen, betrayed Europe Union. (Level 9.5: Trump, Betrayed Kurds, Europe, China, Russia, India, Asia, Africa…all humanity)

    Betrayometer Level 10: Vidkun Quisling, double-crossed Norway, the country and its people, in support of the Nazi party during WW2. The name Quisling is now recognized as a synonym for betrayal.  

    #Brexit
    #Betrayal
    #HierarchyOfValues
    .

  • Bobby Reefer R.I.P

    Bobby Reefer.

    Bobby! Bobby. Man, this cat. Let me tell you about this cat. Bobby was the coolest hippest cat you ever met. Bobby spent a good 7 years of his life in the 420 Coffeeshop in Amsterdam, where I was fortunate to share a few thousand hours together with the rascal. We were pretty close, I mean, we had a good time together at the cafe’ and to be honest more people will remember Bobby than will remember me, but that’s cool. Bobby deserves to live in eternal memory as the legendary cat of Amsterdam coffeeshop 420.

    I was there when he first walked in the door, no really, he just walked into the coffeeshop, a kind-of stray cat, looking for some adventure and food. Bwoy did he find it. The 420 Cafe’ was the perfect cafe to pick due to the fact that Max, the previous 420 Coffeeshop cat, had recently died and there was space availbale for a new puss to move in. Who knows, perhaps the previous owner shoved him through the door, either way, as soon as we saw each other I kind of knew we would become colleagues. Sho’ nuff, Bobby hung around, and after some proper cat food and sweet treatment he found a home at the cafe. Eventually getting special bedding, treats, knuffles, and even his own room which was bigger than mine, and free of charge.

    Within a few short weeks Bobby was up on my lap (back in the day when you had time to sit down in a coffeeshop, and maybe read something) creating the cozy atmosphere that cats and humans enjoy. Sitting purring, minding his own business. A cool cat…unlike a lot of tourists, Bobby could shit in the right place, and even managed to control his vomitting-up of mouse body parts with a certain, je ne sais quoi. A true gentleman cat.

    When not on my lap, Bobby would often be sat to my left, on the hash and weed dealer counter, seemingly asleep or very relaxed, until…some customer would take the liberty of touching him. Oh man, I’ll never forget the scratches and hisses you gave to those heavy handed motherfuckers, hahaa. Serves em’ right. Some might say he was too rough, or too quick to pounce, I will always love Bobby for his scratching, that made fine entertainment for the regulars, and staff, who knew what Bob was capable of and who anticipated a deep scratch and a hiss when some over confident mofo’ touched that particular part of his back. “Go get em’ Bobby”.

    Bobby made the whole shop his turf, patrolling the tables both under and over for mice and men, sometimes deciding to sprawl out across a table like a lion sunbathing, often getting small amounts of weed stuck to his mottled fur, becoming a kind of weedy mammoth cat. What a legend.

    Since the gov. project to close down many coffeeshops around the central area of Amsterdam, the 420 Coffeeshop got busier and busier, to the point where life for Bobby, and some staff, became unworkable. Eventually Bobby was relieved of his duties and went to live in Amsterdam East, where I was fortunate to visit him a few times. As most cool cats do, Bobby didn’t seems to remember me when I met him again after a few years away, I was expecting it to be just like old times, but he was older now, perhaps 18, and seemed to want nothing more than to be left alone, sleeping, dreaming of scratching pot tourists.

    Today, October 22nd, 2019, I got the news that Bobby took his last trip to the vet, and was “put down” as they say in England. On the contrary, today Bobby was put up! Up there with “Miffy” “Zack” “Grover” and a few other cats I was fortune to spend time with, and millions of others, gone but not forgotten.

    Bobby Reefer (1998–2019)

    #DeepScratch

    Bobby, 2019 (Amsterdam East)
  • Brexit Vasectomy And Euthanasia

    Doctor: Hi, can I help you with something?

    Me: Yes, I’m unsure about having a vasectomy, tell me more.

    Doctor: Just get on with it!

    Me: I beg your pardon.

    Doctor: Vasectomy means vasectomy

    Me: what?

    Doctor: Trust me, I’m a doctor. Next!

    #Brexit

    #Vasectomy


    Doctor: Hi, you again. Can I help?

    Me: Yeah, I’m considering euthanasia, can you explain my options, please.

    Doctor: Euthanasia means euthanasia.

    Me: Oh, that simple eh, well….

    Doctor (interrupting me): Just get on with it

    Me: my groin hurts…

    Doctor: Next!

    #Brexit

    #Euthanasia

  • In like

    In like

    In
    Out the dirty bin, like Flynn, trippin’
    Sin of Johnsin, Jonesin for deregs
    Suckin’ the last dregs of capital
    From a burst bubble

    In, in with them, in it together
    With Europe to weather the weather
    You choose Trump or Tusk?
    In with your kin
    Folks in mass who be from working kingdom class

    In for the workers rights
    In for fair and decent opportunity for all
    In for one and one for all in
    In good we trust

    In over your head with the out gang
    In the thick of it and getting thicker by the Wetherspoon full
    Think McFly, think quicker
    Sicker and licker shot to shoot the big dipper dobber

    In, like cucumber in Gin
    Like a holiday abroad on a whim
    For consumer rights
    For human and animal rights
    Stay in, come unity
    Not separatism
    No schism

    Ready up for the fight, for the flight, the blindsight roulette zit
    In like a hole in one
    Like a slam dunk, a corner kick, a prick
    Inn like a stable for Jayzeus

    In without Tory heist
    In without Brexit Party hallucinations
    In like Quintin Tarantino movies
    In your face Ian Turncoat Austin

    In the pool of commerce the largest market
    In the mood
    In the future of international learning with European cultures
    In the market place of market places
    In your own skin
    In place in positive spin

    Shedding Camerons pigskin and Johnson’s sheepskin
    Leaving deadley sin, Dudley sin by Ian Busted Austin
    In with the strong, in to underpin your rights
    In and ready to take it on the chin
    Begin trackin’ thin lines that lead to lies and Gove coke puffin’
    Boris de Pfeffel huffin’ lies and elitist disregard
    For everybody but them, the Bullingdongers

    In like the loony bin Boris should be confined within
    In like the firing pin
    In the cross hairs of hate I relogate to the trash bin
    Reason, fairness, openness and up-to date information
    In memory of Heathcote Williams
    In time
    In like Huckleberry Finn.
    In like a drawing pin to the shin of Boris Johnsin.

    In

    In

    In