Ambrose, Sammy.
He rises at the gentlemanly hour of 11:30, tiptoes around the 300 pound crack whore snoring on his bedroom floor in a malt liquor-induced coma, dons his cravat and pours the days first Sazerac while making toast and checking Ask Andy for any new inane posts. After a few hours and at least one absinthe-and-rye-flavored blackout he clicks on The Fedora Lounge to pick up any useful tips on turning a pair of thrifted galoshes into waterproof opera pumps.
His evening is spent scanning Tom Robbins novels and Hunter S. Thompson articles for new phrases to use when lampooning Andy-ites, ('vicious swine' is currently on the short list). Dinner is clear, and consumed from a glass. He finally turns in at 2:30 am, having grown tired from doing the Lord's work, exposing the iGents for what they are.
He sleeps the sleep of the righteous.
Not being a sad cu.nt like you probably.
Last edited by Bop (2013-05-28 11:48:34)
Would it be presumptuous, as opposed to constructive, to allow a right of reply to suggestions made (just to keep the record straight - after all, Troll Masters - and Troll Mistresses, come to that, are quite protective of their tribe)?
Bop awakes when the postman knocks.
Dressed in vintage BB underpants and socks.
Racing down the stairs, so excited to open the door
Another $7.88 worth of second hand tat to be signed for.
Fast eager hands and bulging eyes
Rip the parcel to survey the prize
Faded, buttons missing, its the boom years popover madras
A thing of beauty, though a Womble would surely call it trash
On it goes, he feels its charm
No matter, too short in the arm
With his worn beater pumps and old battered Levi
He posts a photo for his web mates on T.I
Back to his bedroom to draw some ties
He hopes they'll in production by July
Then its lunch, time flies he has such fun
Americana burger and fries, cooked by his mum
Just some time to search the ebay mall
To post some tat up on the facebook Roll Call
Then back to work on the drawing board
Ivy for everyone, ties for the world!
Soggy mends pipes,
Of that we can't forget,
And no matter what suits are made,
He's still covered in shit.
x
Ode to the Bishop of Briggs
'Twas night at Film Noir Buff's
And all through the forum
The cads and the louts
Had no use for decorum.
The repps were all sloppy
and tied without care.
Bops's shoos were a fright
Reggie cuts his own hair!
The guys in Talk Ivy
Were running their gobs
Making fun of 'the suits'
In their handmade John Lobbs
Shooey was chewing
On algae and grass
While topstitcher searched
For pictures of ass
When out in the foyer
There rose a commotion
The Bishop of Briggs!
Had swung into motion
'Straighten that tie!'
He thundered at Sammy
Our brows were all pale
Our palms were all clammy
'This place is a rat's nest
He ranted and raved
'The clothes are a mess
And you're all barely shaved!'
'Gentlemen don't carry
Themselves like you lot
If I had my way
I'd have all of you shot!"
'I'm off to the club
For a stiff pink and gin.
Have this place cleaned up
When I get back in!'
And I heard him exclaim
As he jumped in his Morgan
'If you fuck this up
You'll be tasting my organ!"
I mean, it sure as hell made me laugh though. One of my endearing? qualities - a bad joke or pun is never wasted on me.
Sammy, who's next?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfuWXRZe9yA
Suggestion: For example, is Reckless's claim that he leads a life full of real leisure activities the genuine article, or does he spend his days in a wife beater scratching his balls on a unmade bed ?
As a matter of fact: the bed has to be made with measured hospital corners; as though as a reminder of what will happen to me if I don't make the bed properly. I didn't say that my reality was very pleasant.
Very good. But in our eagerness to 'do' Bop!!!!!!!!!! and the Bishop we have missed another 'A'.
What about adorable homunculus?
His avatar is pretty suave, but is he really?