One Tooth Pic

You might not know it, you might not realise it. But it’s all coming together. I like strangers. I like a faint, great break. Just a few days, to compose. Just a few letters, to get it together. A pen, to paper. Just a bit of pepper. To get it together. Let’s start, forever. One tooth pic. Click, click. That pen, and you know, we’ve started again.

Film It Please

Ever since a young age, I was made to fly the flag. by gleemin red eyed teacher. as queen bitch was flown past blind school. police flashy cars in tow. me feelin it was a rag to jump on question n complain. I distain the big house in London town where everyone wanted to cry along when littlemiss blond died dead in a flashy car. how could a lady, a blond lady, of such wealth have tattered her fingernails cross some dying ugly ol queer for fear that she might die too? she did some good. but who would really shed a tear if it was some charity worker? some one dead from a walkin bomb? then they would just be cast as some leftie fool eatin mung beans, wearin green, some one to laugh at n refrain from lettin in. cos the state aint happy with that type of crettin. less it was made into a sobbin advert for all to see. but that kind of money only goes to the royal family. n then the sons. pretty one n nazi one. private school makes for a prince we should look upon n cheer cos they won’t end up like every asbo who works down the cotton mill. organic ol bitch who durin the lpool depression, riots gallor thrown his awe out to the poor. he saved a few lives. from the state? in this prince i trust,like i trust rust on my new car. n believe great moma n great father the racist fools who lambasts at all who aint own a horse or fire a gun at some happy fox ripped apart for joy. to few. should tell me how i should live my life? from the telly. i’m tired of this soap. throw them out of handsome palace. n film it please. i’ll watch.

I Would Kill The Lot

I would love to do a cull get rid.
of people.
like in labyrinth they have an ooobliet “a place to put people to forget about them”
I want one of those.
If I could only do one cull I would choose this one place. where all the tossers seem to go.
Elton John’s party…..Ooh I hate that fat bastard wig wearin cunt. there’s smug. and theres smug. i love the muppets, but when i saw that fat twat on it i jus had to set fire to my fairy friends.
think about it, it would be so much fun to lift Trinny n Suzannah into a vat. of acid. rake up the entire cast of Scissor Sisters n glass the lot. of em. jus like the glasshouse scene from ‘The Hand that rocks the cradle’.
stone Posh n Becks.
I would torture David Furnish live on air. N every other stupid tear who loves showin their ass in there.
I would kill the lot. N I ain’t sadistic, bad or weird.
I’m human.
Love, always
Fisty

Don’t You Jus’ Love The Colour Red?

every time I see RED I think of many things, like a red rose, red for blood, red for envy and red for cola. Coca lovely Cola, don’t you jus love em?! Or red alongside the yellow of McDonalds, or red for KFC…ooh our lovely friendly little companies do love the colour…red. they know that we love the colour red. makes us feel good about ourselves, they say. their friendly researchers did a little study on it,  jus for us! and Coca-life enhancing-Cola and their friends aim is always to make us FEEL GOOD ABOUT OURSELVES!! …nothing else

oh look over there, there’s our happy little friend Bono waving the feel-good-about- ourselves-flag, what’s that?! did you say “what flag?” don’t you know? didn’t you see the big blazin advert for RED on myspace the other week? didn’t you see it? didn’t you read it? it was blazin with the colour…

our corporate friends who have done so much good in the world have now created a charity to continue to make things that bit better. you’ve just gotta smile as you buy their products, and they’ll give, what…? 2p? may be 3p? to HIV and Aids relief.  i don’t want to brague, i don’t want to boast………but i’m gonna. next time i think of giving a whole chunk of money to a local Liverpool aids charity; where all the money goes straight to that charity, so straight to the people who need it. I won’t bother… Cos I’m gonna buy an IPod. Safe with the knowledge that IPod are a part of RED so will give 3/4/5p to Aids. stead of the 50 quid i could give straight to an aids charity. won’t it be great stopping people from thinking of buying a goat for a village that needs it (oxfam) and instead encourage them to buy a flashy watch? with a proud smile that they gave 3p to aids relief.

don’t you jus love the colour RED?!

i do.

Bell. End.

I was in my flat all day yesterday, watching the second half of the bob dylan biopic, everything was getting very serious. I had to go to the internet shop to look for jobs and yes everything got more serious. so i typed up a new blog about my bog then thought i wanna go out n get some food. jumped out at Stockpot for some cheap grub, sat next to a bloke who sounded just like david belamy, i thought it was, it wasnt. things were no longer serious.
i havent been out on the gay scene in ages, i thought fuck it i’ll go on me own, i was dying for a snog. wat a slag am i. so i went to trash palace, read me book n phoned me mates. while readin i saw some ded camp boy chatting then snogging this girl really camp-like…it make a-me-laff. while reading i heard this model twat talk n talk n talk about paris, n milan n all that shite. n the worst thing was, was that people were eagerly listening. i read n read n wanted fun so thought fuck it…
i went to g.a.y bar, jesus that place is colourful, like candyfloss, cheap naff n cheesey, jus what i needed. i bumped into some one from liverpool, as ya do, who was wearing a suit, wat he wear a suit for? i ask. he say he has jus been to parliament, as ya do. i ask why so? he say he is something to do with the tories. the tories?! i say. i hate the fucking tories. i say.
he a gay
from liverpool
he aint switched his brain on…
he a gay
from liverpool
he aint switched his brain on…
i-hate-tories-with-a-passion…i bad tho i rip the piss out of him, but i dont feel bad, tell him to switch his brain on. yeah i like people who oppressed and prevented sexual health about woofters in school. yeah i like people who closed down all the unions. yeah i like people who enabled a warrant to stop n search black people. yeah i like people who dont give a fuck about the working classes. yeah i really like those people.
some singer was sitting next to him…i was saying in between “i know you from a band” erm “d-ream”, “m-people”…no it was worse than that, much worse, tory boy told me it was andy bell from erasure…ooh i hate erasure they make my skin crawl, i used to work in a shit cinema (you couldnt watch the films while you worked…wheres the fun in that-?) when we were tidying up the projectionist used to play erasure really loud. im so glad that im younger than that era so that i didnt have to watch some ones fat arse covered in bright plastic mincing to that fuckin hound dog, ded dog, deseased dog, hung dog shite. i would have prefered to have picked up my ded dog’s shit with my own hands than listen to that music.
well when mr bell was leaving i asked him “are you a tory” he didnt answer, but he said that the tories
…”can change”…
what a bell
end.

Punching Man

yesterday while on the booze and slightly bored, i was walking down the street talking shit on the phone with one of my mates, a man was walking ahead of me.
suddenly the man started punching fuck out of his own face and swearing at himself…hahahahahaha! i pissed myself laughing, rolling about on the street, people where crossing the road to get away from me and more so punching man.
i wish that all of Fisty’s dear readers where there to experience this joyous occasion.
i also wish that whenever i am fucked up that i will punch the living daylights out of my own face.
or that when i am stressed and annoyed at work, that, that man will come over and stand beside me and start kicking the shit out of himself.
Every now and then self harming can be
a good thing

Spiritual Guide

I was fat then thin and always looked up to the god that fatted it in fitted uniforms, power skirts. powered by hurt n loss and willing and able to give to charity. her audience.

i was there with all the other housewife lovers obsessed with keepin the house clean n nice the meals good n traditional feelings amongst all. i bought the books that told me how to talk, walk n avoid a nervous breakdown. to the lady who with every smile gave joy to my need and longing…for the next celebrity addicted to drugs, love and pained by shameful hurtful tinsleville parents who disregarded their famous child’s every mood if it couldn’t hit the headlines.

i’ve realised through long searching that this girl is my spiritual guide. didn’t think it could happen this way. didn’t think i had the need for spiritual junk clouding my every…feotus position as i lay in bed thinking of what brought me here, why i need to be near the people i do, who, what, when and how i’ve chosen this life to lead. till i see her on that screen, the sheen bristles my finger nails as i feel this love for a lady. who i cannot describe. for this is real love. and no one can doubt real love. cos it’s real.

totem o’neal i’m sorry for your loss. of your life. i hope it sells well. i will buy the book come pay day.

the millionaire housewives and workin ladies of america. inspired by our spiritual guide. i will strive to be like you,give to charity, stay the same and watch the pennies.

ladies in the audience. a free car for one and all. spared no exspense. jus sit on those seats and gives those grins. holler when spirit guide walks your way. i hope you enjoy your ride. she will cry if you give car to momma, sister, orphan child charity-our spirit guide will shed a tear for the kindness of you. n that really is somethin.

the homeless lady who was given a flat, a car, n a bathrobe. she did like that bathrobe. my kind thoughts are with you.

and our spiritual guide…

dare i mention you…

you would say…

no…

mention the poor of america…

poor of the world…

your audience…

we…

look…

up…

to…

you…

our spiritual guide…

oprah…oh oprah

Army of Them

Some stupid fool am I, always on a path to some such nonsense, thinking that one day will be my day. Can’t I jus Big Lebowski it n forget about it, forget it’ll ever happen n enjoy doin nothin. Can’t I jus 9-5 it n wait till I die it would be alot easier that way. No. please. but the money would be good, yeah maybe I’ll do it.

This kind of thought rears some ugly beings out there, tits like these attract each other, in the hope that one will help the other and the other will help one get above the rest to be that specail somethink. They all flatter, flirt, grovvel, chatter, boast, try and outdo the other (think Grace from BB) “be like them you too will rise up above all the losers down below” (I don’t think so) till you have a swarm of them, one makes the other and rears the other to be like this. Till you’ve got a horrible noise, a wierd fake atmosphere that gears up the next shite minute, hour, day, week for the people who have to work around it. Luckily I’ve been lucky I’ve been able in later life to carry on with my shit n leave their shite with them.

But everynow n then one of them pops up. Normally they’re not good at what they do-so you can smile, laugh n drink to life…if they are good you can kind of forgive it for a sec…but really there’s no kind of kindness given to this kind of tool (but a tool allows things to function?oh yeah maybe that still works)

Always find them round the “arts” quarters, or retail, or as supervisors, or lecturers, students, everywhere. In the hope that one day they will be that special somethink. Came across one the other day, made me laugh, made me quiet, round this type I either close in or shout as loud as I can to get rid of the fucker.

I don’t wanna look at no ones armpits less they’re my lovers, then I’ll do somethin, almost anythin for em. This tit had his armpit thrust up my nostril, feelin uncomfortable in all ways, I wanting to eat my pizza but this tit wanted to chat like a twat about what he’s up2. I ain’t no friend, it’s obvious. Don’t begin ignorin someone then want recognition, want snivvelling up, like some poor pathetic twat. That’s what I got, ignore me then he wants more of me. But he jus ignore me-why he want more from me? HE WANT ME TO SNIVVEL. I’m not his lover, his brother, aunt, sister, foster carer, even then I wouldn’t…

But still people do. Please don’t ever snivvel at the tools, you’ll only cultivate their supposide “trait” that gets them through the day. Keeps them like them, n others becoming n forming an army of them. N we wouldn’t want that.