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I was going to do an epic "I quit" but I couldn't be fucked. Way too hungover.
so, whatever it is, I refer to it as Royter
plus he's always on the end of the phone if I need his input. maybe.
I wrote "Happy Birthday meths!"
I left it on sean's desk.
Probably not even in today. Sorry guys.
surprised he never got a move to a big club
Godspeed. Avoid The Rising Sun.
"Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isn't fit for humans now,
There isn't grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!
Come, bombs and blow to smithereens
Those air-conditioned, bright canteens,
Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans,
Tinned minds, tinned breath.
Mess up the mess they call a town-
A house for ninety-seven down
And once a week a half a crown
For twenty years.
And get that man with double chin
Who'll always cheat and always win,
Who washes his repulsive skin
In women's tears:
And smash his desk of polished oak
And smash his hands so used to stroke
And stop his boring dirty joke
And make him yell.
But spare the bald young clerks who add
The profits of the stinking cad;
It's not their fault that they are mad,
They've tasted Hell.
It's not their fault they do not know
The birdsong from the radio,
It's not their fault they often go
And talk of sport and makes of cars
In various bogus-Tudor bars
And daren't look up and see the stars
But belch instead.
In labour-saving homes, with care
Their wives frizz out peroxide hair
And dry it in synthetic air
And paint their nails.
Come, friendly bombs and fall on Slough
To get it ready for the plough.
The cabbages are coming now;
The earth exhales."
get him posting on here, meths!
shall I go check on him?
my mum is worried
forgot that he probably wouldn't have saved my number and now seems scared and confused. Possibly also a side effect of being in Slough.
Come friendly meths and live in Slough!
We've made it fit for humans now,
There are now birds upon the bough.
Swarm over, Teeth!
where he can piss about on DiS yet.