The Inconvenience Store

High up above in the Hernia Hills
Is a place that will fill you with terror and chills.
You'll wish you'd done all of your shopping before.
Welcome to the inconvenience store.

Sprint through doors that will snap so hard shut,
To trap someone's torso or slice up some gut.
Search through the aisles for some desperate bread,
matches and milk. You'll feel better off dead.

How inconvenient! How inconvenient!
You'll never find that vital ingredient
Your family need, so that they can feed.
This wonderful place that will make your brain bleed.

Reach through electrified plastic divides,
for yoghurt and cream that will burn your insides.
And stacked on the shelves just to worsen your caper
Are piles of out-of-date tabloid newspapers.

Queueing for hours in a line so long
To purchase your things at a price that is wrong.
Your products- expired and somewhat decayed.
This store's a believer in pure unfair trade.

How inconvenient! How inconvenient!
You'll never find that vital ingredient
Your family need, so that they can feed.
This wonderful place that will make your brain bleed.

Get to the till and you feel quite deranged.
Our shopkeeper ensures that you're fully short-changed.
Scans through the shampoo and chicken and rice.
He's adding on Goros to triple the price.

Run out fast dodge machine-gun fire.
Dance, dance, dance through the bloody barbed-wire.
Get out to your car and the bucket- you kick it.
String yourself up at the price of your ticket.

How inconvenient! How inconvenient!
You'll never find that vital ingredient
Your family need, so that they can feed.
This wonderful place that will make your brain bleed.

Humphrey Pincerclamp's Lobster Revolution.

Humphrey Pincerclamp was a pioneer lobstetrician of the 1940's from the University of Apelstiltskin, (Apelstiltskin, South Goruguay). Patients would flock from distant lands and pay obscene amounts of money for the services of this medical mastermind, who was born with one hand much larger than his other (which was of normal size).
Up until this time, lobstetrics played second fiddle to the field of brinaecology, however Dr Pincerclamp and his team brought to light the importance and potential of this discipline, and thence indirectly went on to make history and destroy class barriers that had plagued South Goruguay for centuries.

Brinaecology is the medical field that helps mothers to cultivate their child with characteristics of certain types of oceanic life. Children born through this intervention were often well-equipped for a life in water- with a tremendous tolerance for icy temperatures, improved lung-capacity and excellent swimming abilities. With a war taking place firmly on the land, many families were forced to live on boats or rafts made of inedible crackers. Too much time in the water caused a burning to the skin and hypothermia was the big killer of 1941.

In 1942 Pincerclamp published his first work- "Lobstetric Manipulation of Embryonic Development" where he outlined a way to enforce primordial crustacean gene expression beyond 5 weeks, and purport that a child could be born with gills and marine hunting skills, alongside the beneficial characteristics rewarded by the domineering big-sister discipline.

By 1944, not only had Pincerclamp succeeded in developing children with gills, but also chitinous skin and extremely tight gripping muscles of the hands (On Crustacifying the Human Embryo, Pincerclamp et al, 1944).
The revelatory medicine was immediately made available on the NHF and overnight, Pincerclamp became a millionaire. But this was not the end.

By Stabruary 1945, following a tremendous population boom of aqua-babies, the research had evolved to produce children that looked like, and had all the features of, wild lobsters. They were perfectly adapted for life in the sea and could even breed to produce viable lobster offspring of their own in time (Lobstetrics and Complete Lobstransfomative Manipulation of the Human Embryo, Pincerclamp et al, 1945; Lobs vs Brinae: Who is Laughing Now? Pincerclamp et al, 1945).

At the time, lobstetrics allowed for the survival of the families of those purged from the land by war. But as war became more acceptable and better tolerated, families returned to the soil. It was now less important to be able to live on or under the waves. Especially as not even the Big Blue was a safety zone anymore, with WiFi sea mines and the unforgettable Operation: Manatee.
The biggest problem facing families at this point therefore was a major class divide that had sadly grown wider since the patients of Pincerclamp had excommunicated themselves from the richer, more bunkered families of the land and private healthcare.
In the following decade, Lobstetrics became more of a fashion accessory than a therapy. But it was precisely this that destroyed the walls between and within societies.
The poor and more populace classes now dined upon rich foods- enslaving the lobsters of other families and wearing monocles as they sat down for their evening meals. The wealth of lobster meat became a boom for their economy as they farmed and sold the children to their middle and upper class counterparts.

It was a canny young individual, Gurharalaald Jorgestronsvaldentrnk, who took Pincerclamp's research and copyrighted all the different genes for lobster colour. Subsequently he engineered an industry targeting the rich, who wanted yellow lobsters with blue speckles on their plates. He sold these for enormous profit and fed his own community for free, sharing the wealth that his cannibal enterprise had brought home, and single-handedly, over a period of 5 solid years, balanced the South Goruguayan population into a classless society.

--

Taken from NHF Today: Why Privatise the NHF?

Sunshine, Lollipops and the Monochrome Rainbow.

The sun is shining out of my rear,
A moment for praise, reflection and cheer.
Held up above in such high esteem
For things that I dared to act out from dream.

What they do not know is the price of my fare.
Its born not of dream, but born of nightmare.
Drowning in oil, gasping for breath.
Alternative modes of extravagant death.

Brimming with spirit, exploding with heart.
Its never the winning, its just taking part.
But soul is malignant, victory teased.
The essence of every component diseased.

Such an illusion. Such a mirage.
My penalty suffered for dreaming is large.
Back-slapping, handshakes and kudos are paid.
My digested sunshine is blackened in shade.

Horse, Nurse, Goat, and Me.

"It can always be worse,"
- said the horse to the nurse,
as he snuffled through his trough,
and held back the coughs.
Equine throat tickles
as foam and spit trickles
from the corner of his beak.
His mind is on fleek.

"A fine handsome coat-
much more fashionable than the goat"
Said the nurse to the horse,
Then he struck her with force!
"Why, pretty colt?!
Is this all my fault?"
Said the nurse to the pony,
Anorexic and bony.

"You pure bronco beauty,
You horsiferous cutey,
I don't want you to suffer."
"Then you should act tougher,
Stare into my sadness
Engage with my madness.
Unpredictable me
Is a horse of the sea."

"What's going on here?"
Said the goat to the fear.
Bearded and nourished.
Not cool, but flourished.
"Your horns, dear Billy."
"Listen, stop being silly"
"Be cruel or be kind..
I've gone out of my mind".

The Wonderful Tragedy of Corcontritum the Helper Monkey

Obviously I'm not known for dressing up.. am I..?
Anyway, there we go- another trophy in the cabinet. An attempt to integrate more socially and cultivate friendships seems to have paid off. Perhaps with the pity prize. But it is still a prize. The poor fools who spent hours on makeup and hair.. I put on an amusing suit in moments, and topped it off with a fez. A formula for victory. I wore a bloodied apron for years.. to err.. "critical acclaim........".
The formula depends upon the "suit" variable of course.
Costume parties.. how I used to resent them. Can you believe that I, the Budenny Bard of Goruguay, was once afraid of potentially looking ridiculous? Embrace the hate and it will end up loving you.
If done nicely I learned last night that they are most excellent conversation pieces. The monkey made a lot of new friends. A popular dance partner too. My unfortunate simian henchprimate had the weight of an unpredictable ape on their shoulders all night. A costume that carried away some of life's horrendous strain. A psychiatric helper monkey. The monkey is a de-skeletonised heap on the bedroom floor today. I think it drank too much.
But metaphors and monkey-business aside, the monkey made me happy.
My idea. A thought form that would be nothing without the engagement of people. All is not lost.
I might even cut my nails and take the tin foil hat to the recycling centre.

This song is for last night:


The Wonderful Tragedy of Corcontritum the Helper Monkey

Lift me up, my simian steed and gallop amongst those drinking.
Carry my heap of bones and flesh, encourage more free-thinking.
I paid for you, you are my slave to bear my mental torsion.
The monkey on your back is me, a hateful, sickened portion.

Ride, ride, into their lives
Dance for me, we'll win the prize.
Ride, ride, onto the table
Your monkey feet might trip on the cable.
Make new friends, impress the folks
who otherwise won't laugh at my jokes
Monkey see, and monkey doooooo.....

Don't stop me from out-monkeying you.

Its difficult times when bladders fill and we are still together.
Heave me up the stairs you do and slowly we untether.
Your plot to spoil my kidneys failed again, thats three I've counted.
So get up from my ankles monkey, prepare to be mounted.

Ride, ride, into their lives
Dance for me, we'll win the prize.
Ride, ride, onto the table
Your monkey feet might trip on the cable.
Make new friends, impress the folks
who otherwise won't laugh at my jokes
Monkey see, and monkey doooooo.....

Don't stop me from out-monkeying you.

But what would this epic story be without a hint of splatter?
I carved out monkey's skull today and fried the brains in batter.
They tasted rather boring really, I wasted when I killed.
I should have known from Dr Jones these things are best served chilled.

Chilled, chilled monkey brains
Good for headaches and mental pains
Chilled, chilled horse's head-
Take two in the morning, one day in bed.
This is how you beat your woes
Eat strange animals, eat your foes.
Monkey see, and monkey dooooo..

Don't stop me from out-monkeying you.

Hakespeare's Soliloquy- A plagiarist's commentary.

Tomorrow, and the day after, and thence onwards..
Creeps in this slothful pace from day to day,
To the last morpheme of recorded time;
And all of our yesterdays have clowns on fire.
The road to dusty death. Extinguish yourself, fleeting happiness.
Life is but a shadow swimming through mud, a C-list actor
That fluffs his lines and isn't even believable
And then he is relegated to notoriety on Twitter (and maybe gets a radio show).
It is a tale told by an idiot, full of klonking irrelevance, mismatched individuals and burning red hatred.. on a tiny planet, in a tiny solar system, in an enormous universe, in an infinite space..
Signifying that each life is an addition to the dung pile on existence's farmyard.

Journey to the Centre of Re-birth

Goodbye day. Goodbye clinic.
Goodbye summer. Goodbye cynic.
Goodbye future. I can't swim it.
Goodbye pushing to my limit.

Goodbye friends. Goodbye foes.
Goodbye highs and goodbye lows.
Goodbye night. Goodbye breeze.
Goodbye health and all disease.

Goodbye lies. Goodbye truth.
Goodbye old age. Goodbye youth.
Goodbye music. Goodbye noise.
Goodbye troubles. Goodbye joys.

Goodbye hate, humiliation.
'Bye emotional stagnation.
Goodbye sense. Goodbye food.
Nun ndl trk vl untn kood.

Sinking quickly underground.
I'm the fox. And I'm the hound.
Goodbye meaning. Goodbye sadness.
Hello crazy, rabid madness.

Uninsured Property

If only.. If only I could lay an egg. A real egg made of gold.
And then another.. Several more. Then what a life I'd mould.
Wishing for 24-karat manstruation.. With each month I churn out ovulatory wealth.
My blood it glistens, its hot and molten- hurts quite a bit really. Ruins my health.
Midas touched my ovaries. What a predatory fellow.
Each month pops out a sparkling yellow.
Oh its just a dream to be seduced by this myth,
Be partially woman, and fill my nest with..
Clutches of universal currency. But at what great expense?

I just need enough so I can pay for a fence.