Rock On Orange Sunshine | Just another WordPress.com site: “It has to start with The Streets…..
the first letter in their alphabet is, E, and after that it is ‘pass the spliff’ and later ‘i feel like puking’–once that has past the music takes hold and I sink into the poetry of it. Real poetry mind, not horsehit from a lame pony, but raw shit from a Brommie U tube bend in a shitter that has also got holes in it. Me and Stacy are at the bar when he walks in, E’d up and quizzing us for where is Philip? I tell her to pipe down your Jacksie and let me handle the Capsies. She arches into the Ladies and we skin one up for Zimbabwe. At the bar, Eric is pouring for Simone a nice Vodka Martini. It is Eleven oh One precisely, and we have chips, biltong and Crisps to look after while little Miss Mary opines about the shite brother and the the little girls have a sissy. At one o’clock we are all H A M hard. And the free food doesn’t really sober us up nicely. What was you thinking Darling while I was feeling up her pussy? Then came the afternoon on the bench outside, and I was feeling very Luke and Andy. The best Bird in all of Shropshire had called to say she was coming. And the grass was feeling awesome under my belly while I savoured the tickets to Neil young that we were going to on Tuesday…Somebody–that git from Brum Land, he said, tho I knew he was the pool put on Elvis “