Saturday 31 December 2016

                                             
                           
                                            
                                                    PANTO LINEKER

   @  PremierInn :
                              GaryLineker
         play panty-cladAladdin


                     motsyn-lineke /  lineke-motsyn
                                                                                                                         ! YIKES
                               
                                                                                            ( still aboard  The SS !W )







                     

Friday 30 December 2016




                                                                       Panto liner
    



Aboard  The SS !Wotthefuk

SIKMENT LOYNE (Prof): So help me here,  Ms. ?Ynnit,  butt you've booked us onto  The SS !W
                                                     we've just stuffed our faces on the  SpiceOddity  mealdeal,
                                                     we're both about to throw up,  you over your Genegenie costume,
                                                     me over my Aladdin outfit . .  ! ?  !  WTF  . . ?are you insane
  
KOLEE ?YNNIT (Ms.)  :  O!  if yer dunt stop moanin&grownin&banginon  Sik  
                                                    ?! so help me   im goin to .    .
                                                    the point is  prof   i was ordrin  panty liners  off Amazin 
                                                    and next fing i no  i got tikets thro me door  for this shebang   ?!?wtf  
                                                    mind yew   i thort them panty liners are a bit expensiv       !LOL






                                                 




Monday 19 December 2016





      profesor sikment loyne :    well, exactly 5 years to the day that you started comin'  2 see me, 
                                      Ms ?Ynnit

            Kolee ?Ynnit (Ms.) :  Yes

       
        profesor sikment loyne :  and 35,000 visits exact if ive counted rite


          Kolee ?Ynnit (Ms.) :   Yes


      professor sikment loyne :   and in all that time so many difrent caracters


             Kolee ?Ynnit (Ms.) :   Yes


      professor sikment loyne :   its been exaustin ?!aint it 

           Kolee ?Ynnit (Ms.) :   Yes


    professor sikment loyne :     ! ?d'ya think im betta than i woz


           Kolee ?Ynnit (Ms.) :    ! Hmmm













Wednesday 7 December 2016






SIKMENT LOYNE  :      You can't just turn up 
                                    when you feel like it, you know,
                                    and then  why? so late 

KOLEE ?YNNIT (ms)  :   cant help it  ?!innit
                                     and in your words  i was feelin'  
                                     i - so -lated



LOYNE :                       Whilst I    with so  few words      quite  (f)ellated

?YNNIT :

LOYNE :                        ?!Lonely  eh

 ?YNNIT :                    only as  fuk



 LOYNE :                    Then come ! at your scheduled  time.
                                   I'm here to help you thro'   . .      .      .
                                   with things like that

 ?YNNIT :                    yeah  sure  
                                  butt so is the internet innit !
                                  and that dont cost nuffin'

  
LOYNE :                   well only the charge to your soul  
                                 of course

?YNNIT                     and the soul charge to my cards    
                                 
                                 maxed up    mashed out
                                so  in the words of  TammyWinette        

LOYNE

 ?YNNIT                   !fukkit  NO CHARGE    (  ! innit  )

 



 LOYNE :                 !Aaaahh, yes     Tammy's vignette

?YNNIT :

 LOYNE :                  Butt why  so late  then ?!

?YNNIT :                 i had some time to kill   
  
LOYNE:                 ? And thus  

?YNNIT:                  and thus i binged summat on me laptop  !? didnt it

LOYNE                   And thus   ?    !



?YNNIT :                and i  asked  Bing   sumting  . . .  

 LOYNE :               .. (!hmmm)   .   .  ?! Had he lost all bobhope
                              before the golf round

 ?YNNIT :     

?YNNIT :                your ! a strange fuk   sik    sometime

  LOYNE :              !Hmm     So the   sumting
                             you  ping  into  Bing             ?      !


?YNNIT :               i ping into Bing       ?  'did   vivaldi'  ?

LOYNE :                 ..    ( Did Vivaldi  )   what    ?

YNNIT :                  nufffin   !  !   just        ? 'did vivaldi' ?


LOYNE :                 The  vivacity  
                                 of the open question  ?eh

?YNNIT :

LOYNE :                   .   .     (so)     Did  Vivaldi     ? what      ?


?YNNIT :                      oh  !?   did vivaldi have a big cock
                                there
                                you  satisfied  now  !     ? are we


 LOYNE :                 All day  spent   on  BigKokBarok   ?mmm
                               know it well
                                                      RedPriest  meat  RedBeast


 ?YNNIT :               your a  sik fuk   sik   sometime
                              no   nuffin  like wot  ur into  
                                                                i mean
                             only got as far as   
                             ?'did vivaldi'?         innit
                              and it  vring   me  'ere 
( showing laptop )
                                    'did val die in emmerdale'     
                                  !   look
                              witch  vring  me  to you    after a wile   

  LOYNE :              Two points :
                                                          (1)  You're 4 months  tardy  on appointment;
                              (2)  Val died slowly
                                                                  ( Val Doonican 
                                                              died  in Emmerdale
                                                after sheep had shagged  his jumpers. )

  ?YNNIT :

   LOYNE :             Look !  Ms ?Ynnit,  
                             you cant turn up
                             willy-nilly  with your mind  elsewhere.
                             You're more concerned 
                             with Tony Vivaldi's  ting
                             than keeping me informed.
                           

?YNNIT :              my susans gone   
                            dead  as  a  dildo
                            and u dont ! give a monkey's fuck


  LOYNE :             ?! Susan     
                            As in your daughter,  ?K
                            What are you saying  here  !  ?  exactly






NARRATOR

What? was ?Ynnit saying here exactly
                     Here's
         what she wasn't saying:

pompous shit       dumbass cunt        lol    !shitcunt
                     my baby girls dead         
                      knifed     last nite

                                    !No.
          She sure wasn't saying that      to  Loyne
                   about her daughter Susan.


?YNNIT :       o dont you lissen to nuffin      ffs    !   ?
                              susan   !!  susan giro      
                                                       ! gONE  ! !

NOT daughter Susan 
but Susan Giro.
                              
                             ?! Who's Susan Giro,  Kolee ?   !




  








                             LAST NITE THE MOON CAME





And so, on that fateful day, Wednesday December 7, 2016, exactly four months after her
scheduled appointment, Kolee ?Ynniit (Ms.) meet with Sikment Loyne (Prof.) to discuss familiar grapevine scandelabra which, a punt of prosecko plustard  and the odd jape about jesu thrown into the juice,  turn vine into whine and  a (w)hole host of wingebug which come a-whippin' round the bench in the park where our moonstruck friends are resting. 
In a melange of energy borne of something akin to syzygy    or synergy   
or sounds assembled by speakers built into their bench,   
sounds which in an another dimension might have been a figment of Ziggy imagination or           more relevantly 
 -   and by proxy maybe    -  
a reinvention of the music of Roxy, 
in such mix are our pair   unferried  and  rerooted        afrenzied  and  sourceboated,
soon fizzed up in a steam of unconsciousness   in  irritable-inimitable  fashion
where, pooling their collected knowledge and wisdom gathered from the 
schoolofhardcocks, disrespectively,  ?Ynnit and Loyne manage disagreement and agree to quiver, especially when confronted by the oblivious (nee obliferous)  truth that exactly four months before, on Sunday August 7, 2016,  on National Sisters' Day in fact,  a certain Susan Giro did seem to appear thrice plus once  to  ?Ynnit    and Loyne ( apparently)
but mainly to Kolee ( of course. ) 

As mist unfold and steam take hold on that fanciful day in December,  it emerge that this
certain Susan G  be anything butt   to anyone butt  Kolee.  
You see, to all intents and purposes, 
Susan   be
a  spirit ,  
or what be commonly termed  
a   spectre  spook  supernatural  seraph  sprite  sprightliness  sparklehorse  scenesteeler          stirrer  striving  stuff  stunt  spunk  stoutheart   substance

           The Other Side of Life    ( rehash )
             
                             how should I feel    ? ?    what can I say
                                 at length       tall tales
                                     show us differently.

                                         places fondly recalled.
                                             particular places
                                                  unforgettable.
   
                                                       we've gone far and wide now.
                                                           yet then we were young
                                                               and so unsatisfied.

                                                                   butt she comes and goes
                                                                       the other side of life;
                                                                          sheltering only though.
                                                           
                                                                               we share special times,
                                                                                  stumble and fall.
                                                                                      think to wave me a sign of life.

                                                                                              butt she comes and goes
                                                                                                 the other side of life;
                                                                                                      sheltering only though.
          
         

Yes
Susan  be
spirit  
spectre  spook  supernatural  seraph  sprite sprightliness  sparklehorse  scenesteeler 
stirrer  striving  stuff  stunt  spunk  stoutheart  substance   
or  
lackofit

Being a bit of a prof, Sikment is avid for antonym  sooner than synonym, especially when there are seventeen (or so) of them, and finds talk of Giro appearing  to ?Ynnit on that fruitful day in August - and in days hence (apparently) -  well  as irrelevant as a dole snoop. At this juncture it is proper for it to slip Loyne's mind that Susan might also have appeared to him on that quintessential Sisterdaysunday, if somewhat surreptitiously
And it be perfectly the case that a punt of prosecko help in this regard.
As an eavesdropper on this pair of drooling doppelgangers, and aided notably by points of scribblepiss in Kolee's scrawlpad, I can at this stage reveal to readers, and listeners, 
how events did unfold on SusanSunday (let's say) in relation to Kolee ?Ynnit (Ms.) 
and, to a lesser degree (let's say),  Sikment Loyne (Prof.) 








the surgeon of the night sky restores dead things by the power of sound


SusanSunday  

Around 4am  give or take  : ?Ynnit(Ms.) and Loyne(Prof.), sleeping in distant beds, find themselves weirdly embroiled in the exactsame dream near-as-dammit 

04.32 precisely : Loyne wakes from his sleep with a start and, as we are all wont to do, looks at the time on his illuminated alarm clock. 

04.40 exactly : ?Ynnit wakes from her slumber with a jolt and, 
as we are all wont to do, checks the time on her illuminated alarm clock. She takes this opportunity to text The Professor regarding the disturbing nature of TheDream. The consequence&purpose of this action be two-fold: (1) It allow Kolee to spread her angst around a bit; (2) It prevent Sikment from being able to put TheDream completely out of his mind which, for all manner of reasons, he may have wished to do.
Ms. Ynnit's text or, to be more precise, her sequence of 17 texts, spells out in no certain terms the form and content of her, indeed their Dream. 
The setting is a football ground on Pillow Lane, home of FC Phoenix. The club is hosting a testimonial game, the proceeds of which will go to two deserving causes: (1) The families of victims of
The Barbie Tragedy,  when a rogue truffle pig knocked over a barbecue stand which fell into a crate of fireworks, mostly constituting rockets pointed towards an idling ice-cream van which just happened to be sheltering sleeping terrorists and their cache of explosives; (2) the family of Rigobert Snag, local bookmaker's clerk, who had laid odds of 1 billion to one against The Barbie Tragedy ever happening, and who subsequently-and-mysteriously 'disappeared into thin air' when a truffle pig farmer came in to collect his winnings. 



                  Blue Period / Light on Water



04.44 (approx): Prof Loyne receives the 4th of 17 texts from Ms. Ynnit -  ! AND THATS NOT 'ALF OF IT ! 
further undermining his re-acquaintance with shuteye.
He will later try to underplay the significance of his kneejerk text response -  Shit ! This is blinking bonkers
by maintaining that he sent that text in his sleep and he'd meant to write bankers  butt, Sikment being Sikment, he surely forgot about his (deleted) sequential text 
-  Sooo wide awake noo  . . U & ME ! SOME DREEM  ..  . shit 

Around 5.30am  give or take :  Both ?Ynnit and Loyne are now wholly
cognisant of the indisputable truth that they have both been present in pretty much the same dream at pretty much the same time.
And that, according to this shared dream, ?Ynnit is standing with her young daughter Susan watching the charity game from The Pissbeer End of Pillow Lane  when a fight breaks out at 4.32pm according to the Phoenix clock. Referee Loyne wades in to break up the scrimmage, and sends off 5 players before being poleaxed by the f(a)langed fist of the dismissed keeper, Vinnibryk Shithooz.
Then at 4.40pm according to the Phoenix clock - the time the referee would normally be looking to blow the final whistle - after roughly 8 minutes of frenzicuffery, there is an unexpected hiatus on the park; the remaining bloodsplattered players are, all 17 of them, like the still poleaxed Loyne, frozen in time. 
As one the crowd chant 
SUSAN ! SUSAN!! SUSAN!!! SUSAN!!!!
At this Susan ?Ynnit jumps over the security fence and does a lap of honour around the perimeter of the pitch, blowing kisses to an apparently adoring crowd.
However, the true object of the crowd's adulation is a girl now standing in the centre-circle. She is a dark-haired, tragic beauty,
dressed in an Italian-style, orphan smock, much as The ?Ynnits wore
at last New Year's Lost and Foundling  fancy-dress bash.
The girl waves a popish hand to the fans, which be the signal for them to morph, as one, into a camouflaged lambretta gliding on an incantation of      We-r-TheKrazeeGang-&-We're-here-2-entertain-U 
in barely-murmured, stalebreatheLatin, 
much like Kolee's well-remembered, Communion priest.
The spell is broken by the dulcet tones of ?Ynnit(Ms.), who 
scraterwail  ! fuk YEH!, a klamklang echoed cryptically by Loyne
(Prof.), sitting up temporarily on the touchline, before returning to the prone position.  

 





                                   DREAM THEORY IN MALAYA


                                      Sitting at home 
                                                               thinkin' of her
                   
                            he wrapped a sow's ear     in a silk purse


As was his wont, 
Professor Sikment Loyne  licked his lips   
                                                langubrously  
before lingering in a labiad breakfast.
He thought long and hard  on  Kolee ?Ynnit (Ms.),
on their dream experiences  earlier 
(!so much earlier)  that morning,
and marvelled at K's capacity  to recall  detail
in great                                                          detail
and/or  
to just make shit up.
He was about to ponder whether she'd dreamed 
about them dreaming 
up  a scheme where one might enter the dream 
state   by dreaming 
about it 

or alternatively

and then the phone rang.
!It was Kolee                                             again
and it was to do with  Susan (Giro)    !again





holdonholdon       f y i        forfuksake    innit  
b4    prof  u start  projectilin ur shit on my shit
b4 we get 2 fukkin isterikal about all this istorikal stuff
and wot u  go banginon about prof    ffsbullshit-fyi   
all the words in yer fukkin edgewaze  tyme 
that  histry is made up by folk who have the means   
to make shit up  and peeps who have the gains from those
means wot have been made up shit   
so if anyone just make shit up prof  
its  U    innit  
!?y know wot i mean
so   
freefings ere         noe           freefings 

first  kunt    woz U  called me that mornin   on   SusanSisterDay
u had to 2   coz u named it  that day 
 i didnt know jakshit about that  wot it was called

and  B
susangiro was  UR girl  
even b4 she come to find me  
U made 'er    
U made it with er   
the 2 of u u   gettin all pallydooly   
in sum weerdshitstuff 
b4 she come to me  
and realise its me she mean to be with
me she want 2see2elp2save
ME   !  forfuksake
cuzz neetha of u couldnt andle with it  innit
those consekwenshals
witch is  wen u fukeroff & she fuk off

so thats got that strait  then    

innit

   









    





                          













          
       
            

                
               
                        




   

Sunday 4 December 2016





       when  Dylan      -   half-pissed     -

               mistake song therapist for sex therapist,

   ! bliss

                                                                    and  his  carousing

             of         I'm all over      now    !    BabyBlew


                                                               !                              arousing              














   when Dylan          (  half - assed )    

                receive     from the gibbering  class

                                                                                   the nobel-lit-prize,

           he  untangle  himself  from   Blew,

          think  not twice                    butt additions  to                           

    
                                        (   ?    )                                                        thrice


  
                           then ask      the  hippy nostalgiens         

                                                                         the open-ended-question :       

   
              wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww          !            ? why    ?














 when Dylan's  exhibition

  be trashed

                         by   anti - hippynostalgiens


                                                       who scrawl on the pictures 

         ?!  should  Art  be  in  bed  with
                                                            arms  manufacture      ! ?
   

                         The Man   launch a tirade of invective
                                                              
                                                                       -   half-cock   -
                                                                                         
                                                                                   against  the  culprits ;

          texting these words 

        to a loved one :
                                                              
                                   It's alright  !  MWAH!   (I'm only bleeping)