Saturday, 25 October 2014

An apology from a fan to Bangor City Football Club, October 25, 2014

The Welsh Premiership table makes some pretty awful reading
We’re bottom of the league, the season’s hopes are disappearing,
We lost again – 2-0 at home – a terrible result
But I’ve got a confession, boys: I think it’s all my fault.

The Stjarnan game, the Euro trip, I’d booked to fly abroad
But on the eve of getting there an illness struck me hard.
My travel plans were thwarted, Lord, but I just couldn’t fly
We lost 4-0 without my voice to help the team apply.

At home the Iceland lads came down to drink in the Belle Vue.
They passed around the vodka shots; I’d had more than a few,
But when we started to the game there were still glasses full
It’s bad luck to leave alcohol like that; it’s terrible.

We won in the League Cup! Oh Joy! The season was on track!
The next game’s venue – England, on a plastic piece of crap,
2-0 the score – we lost of course, we never seem to win
Against the franchise; still, who cares? Those bastards mean nothing.

But Monday came, Newtown again; this time was not the same
It was too sunny; I’d forgot to bring a pair of shades.
I couldn’t see, that’s what it was, and three goals was the cost
Without my lucky Turkey hat, and that is why we lost.

An Aber game is usually an excuse for a laugh,
Away we go down winding roads, with beers in our bags.
This time, a Friday night? By Zeus – I just couldn’t attend.
We shipped two goals, then fought back for a 3-3 in the end.

So not the best; but not the worst; some unease at our start -
A 2-1 versus Cefn in the cup gave us some heart –
And then, another Friday game – big spending Airbus next
They had us off 2-1. But I was wearing the wrong kecks.

Rhyl was worse – oh God help me – 2-0 up at half-time
Somehow we lost; 3-2 the score. But the fault was all mine.
I was at home, watching on TV, tucked up with the flu,
My lemsip Cofi-yellow. And we know what that can do.

Prestatyn next. Another lot we really ought to beat;
A nothing side; a mini-Rhyl, a team we should defeat.
I must admit again here to my culpability;
I didn’t have my lucky pie –we drew the game 3-3.

Four days went past; Prestatyn once more in the league's own cup
Where our form had been decent; it had kept the spirits up.
But Christ Almighty, I fucked it up; I’m sorry of it still.
I didn’t have a lucky piss: we lost the game one nil.

The Friday next – another Friday, our unlucky night –
We were a goal to nil up then out went all the floodlights.
For fuck’s sake: everything was going really, badly wrong;
I’m sorry, boys, it’s my fault: I had unlucky trons.

October dawned. No wins, two points: officially bad form,
The kind of sequence of results that sends teams dropping down.
Me? I blame myself for this: a home loss to Carmarthen,
I’d not walked down my lucky way; was driven by my father.

Port Talbot – on a Saturday – shock horror! What is next?
A 2-0 loss, that’s what. A result that left us all vexed.
But it was only me that knows why that one went to shit:
My lucky shirt was in the wash so I couldn’t wear it.

Cefn at home. Another goddamned Friday fucking night.
Another chance for City though to start putting it right.
0-0   on 88 so muggins here, he checks the time
We lose one nil. It’s my fault: I’d committed the crime.

Finally, October ends, at home to Connah’s Quay.
Yep, Friday night again: this really starts to grate on me.
No surprise here: we lose 2-0 and I can take no further.
I had no cash so couldn’t get my lucky Big Les Burger.

So Nev, and Dilwyn, Gwyn and Pegler, Citizens and fans
I’m sorry for the bad luck since the first game’s whistle rang;
Please don’t sue me for lost earnings, it would be uncouth.
(You wouldn’t win in court: I’ve got a fail-safe, lucky suit.)

Monday, 20 October 2014

I moved back to Bangor 15 months ago and spent some time writing down some moidering I have heard, mostly on buses from town to Coed Mawr

I don’t care yeh –caws a nionyn –Na dwi dim eisiau fo! I’m just trying to have a laff with you now before I go to prison and you’re trying to make me eat cheese

-iawn lads –alright you misfit –seen that prick on Facebook –yeh that banter page or whatever it’s called –he just slags off Bangor City –I reckon it’s Penfold –wouldn’t put it past him –small man syndrome aye, got a chip on his shoulder the midget tranny prick –I know you are

-how do you feel? –like I’m going to go to prison yeh. When we get to Caernarfon I’m going to go to the court and show I’m there then come back at 2pm so we can have a bit of a laff yeh.

-you were on one last night lad. Do you remember? You moidered that Tracey’s ears off. –Tracey? –yeh, Tracey Tits. And she’s the biggest moiderer of the lot. –ah yeah she gave me a hell of a row. –that’s cause you were staring at them. Fair play, they are fucking massive. –not my fault is it, I never grew em.

-That stinks –Wasn’t me. Mine don’t smell. –It’s absolutely minging. A, a, symphony of ming. You minger.

-How does it follow that I wouldn’t know where they were yeah? I jamp and legged it. Then in the morning there were six coppers there.

-What it is yeah, I heard a rumour that your ferry was fu… that your ferry wasn’t working.

-What are you doing you now yeh no. –I need something to eat yeh. You had my cheese already yeh. –You said you never wanted it. –Yeh I didn’t then yeh but now I’m hungry yeh, you know I’m hungry cause you had it. –Caws a nionyn. –I don’t care, you better buy me another one the same, with ham yeh.

-It’s ace when people get off the bus yeh, there’s loads more room. –Menai Bridge Fair tomorrow. –What’s the scariest ride you’ve been on? Mine’s the red ladybirds. Only joking, it’s the kids’ tea cups –I don’t know why they don’t just do it in half term. –I went on one, a massive one, and I had to take my shoes off and grip this bar thing really tight. I was sick everywhere. –Ugh, Abdul J Bechod. –What does bechod mean, is it the same as bless. –Sort of, ‘ahhhhh slyyy’ –I hope my mum gives me the money. I’m gonna go tomorrow. Staying in Llanddona. –Llandonna kebab.

-I’ll ring this girl now. Hiya I’m on the bus now going home OK. You what. That’s right yeah. OK doll. Yeah I forgot about that. We’ll do it again, tomorrow. Yeah. Yeah, OK Doll. Tadra.
Ryan’s got swimming. I forgot. She rang too late. She’s coming up tomorrow. Ring after work tomorrow rwan.
-It’s gonna rain now.
-Looks like it yeh.
-Those potatoes are nice yeh. I was watching them in front in case there was a bad one but they’re lovely. –lovely yeah.
-She says they don’t do lunch. They’re always sitting down drinking and watching.
-I think she lives with her mother now. Two boys.

-You’ve got a very neutral accent.
-Yeah, I’m half-Welsh, half Scottish, half Irish and… part English.
-Do you speak Welsh?
-No, but my sister does. Fluently.

There was this woman in the paper. What did she do now?... …Beans!... She just started eating beans. Lots loaaaads of weight… …wouldn’t want to do that myself. Just beans, yeah. Proper Heinz beans. She should have got shares in Heinz… Not sure what she did for breakfast  but just beans for dinner and her tea. She cooked her family proper food but she’d just have a plate of beans… …me, I’d want toast or cheese for a bit of flavour yeah but all she did was eat beans for 12 months.

-Hiya, ti’n o lew?
-Yeah

-wus this un th un we got th other de?
-thnk sur, hafta check bus tickets, yeh
-when I cum bak there wus six of thum all outside, stood


-We’re gonna get back to you quite literally as college finishes.

It's Billy Bubblebath's remarkable cirkus!!!!

Roll up! Roll up! Each night at noon the circus is in town
With marvels strange and wonderful; the sawdust’s on the ground
It’s Billy Bubblebath’s new show! It’s really rather good, you know
So gather all around

We’ve Danny Spesh, from Marrakesh, a juggler so great
That he can use but motes of dust! Come on and celebrate!
His microscopic juggling is wonderful and puzzling
So don’t you dare be late

Next on the bill is Degsie Dill, from way up in the north
We’ve measured him a hundred times and now we’re pretty sure:
Up from the floor, at six foot four
He’s Britain’s tallest dwarf

The strongman and the bearded lady had a secret scam
A tryst, romantic, torrid, sexy, in a caravan;
Nine months have passed, and here at last’s
The UK’s youngest man

We used to have some elephants, but no-one’s seen them lately
A small guy came, inspected them, and shook his head most gravely.
With pointy ears, we’re sure, we fear
He was from elf and safety

The acrobats have lost their hats; they won’t be on tonight
It’s such a shame; it’s not the same without that precious sight
But that’s the show; you never know
What happens night to night

So why not try the coconut shy, where everyone’s a winner
And every fallen nut’s a prize to take home for your dinner
Quickly, kids! A ball, two quid!
Or four balls for a tenner!

Or try your luck on hook a duck, a brilliant money-spinner;
We don’t have any goldfish left, they flew away for winter,
No matter yet! What will you get?
A plastic Spongebob figure!

The ringmaster’s a disaster, he’s drinking on the job
Last night he burnt his tent down; left a chip pan on the hob
But we love him; he gives us gin
The alcoholic slob.

Send in the clowns! They’ve come right down to spread the laughter for us
They tumble and they jest around, they flop in silly chorus
But wake up – that ain’t make up
It’s a contagious illness

Our conjuror’s gone to hospital; he’s under the weather
He cut himself in half but forgot to put himself together
The magic turned out tragic
He’s in pieces, the poor beggar.

Now if you dare, and like a scare, there’s the haunted house of hell
Where skeletons and vampires play; there is an awful smell
Can you enter this dark tent, where
Terrors tend to dwell?

The human cannonball’s on soon; he’s ready packed to go
So take this chance to catch his act, he’s leaving tomorrow.
He says he’s tired of getting fired
Each and every show.

And last of all, the greatest act we bring to you with glee;
The lycra-clad Vertigo Lad who balances with ease:
Ladies and gents, the show presents
The world’s lowest trapeze!

So roll up, roll up, boys and girls, ladies, gents and undecided
We’re only here for eight more months! The shortest we’ve resided!
It’s Billy Bubblebath’s new show! It’s really rather good, you know!
Well. That’s what we’ve decided.

Sunday, 19 October 2014

Everything I have ever learned about life (part 1)


If you want your dreams to come true, simply change your dreams

So far, I am immortal

Most people are wasted at their jobs, which is grand if you can get away with it

All gods are substitute parents

If you own more than one pair of shoes you are rich

Wash your hands, body, teeth etc quite often

Don’t wear sunglasses inside

When you fuck up, admit it and get on with fixing it

It is impossible to injure yourself falling over drunk

God either can’t, won’t, or isn’t

Free Will is a top excuse

Love is a mask for foul deeds all too often

Animals speak in different accents depending where they are from

Cars break in the following places: alternator; chassis; fuel pump; fan belt. Everything else is made up.

A good kitchen knife is vital and it is also inevitable that you will chop your finger top off with it at some stage

Glasses will smash

Getting real hand-written letters through the post is the best thing ever

If you drink you will probably get a hangover. So fucking deal with it and don’t whinge

Sing whenever and however you want

The worst music is dishonest music

Also Coldplay. I fucking can’t stand that shit

Countdown is really difficult

All of my male friends have a favourite mug which gets refilled with cup of teas or coffees without getting washed until it has an actual visible crust on the bottom

The more plates, bowls, pans and cutlery you own, the less often you will wash up

Magic is real but is not what you think it is

Everyone looks at their own snot in a tissue

Here are some useful starts to phrases for liars: ‘I am not racist, but,’; ‘To be honest,’; ‘The reality is,’; ‘I have every faith’

Beware anyone who identifies themselves as A Quarter Irish; A Writer; Agnostic

Life is a stumbling oafish battle between the walking poor and the working dead

The best food is leftovers

The second best food is seconds

Ostentatious Christianity is a good way for money rats to express their fundamental inner socialism without irony

Henry Rollins and Steven Seagal always need a poo

The worst thing in the world is saving a choice morsel for last only to find out it is a piece of vegetable masquerading as meat

The only canvas you own is yourself

The best smell in the world is strangers’ chips

Nothing matters as much as it appears

Breakfast; Dinner; Tea and nothing else

There are patterns everywhere

Eat what the fuck you want and take the consequences





Friday, 17 October 2014

God Is Odd (extended remix)

Jesus was a strange one baby, hippy as a lad
But even his adventures pale compared to his old dad
God
Who’s odd.

Abraham, my child, my child, upon this glorious morn
Take a hike up this big hill and kill me your first born
Said God
Who was odd.

Job my lad, my favourite one, you’re pious as they go
But just for kicks I’ve made a bet to destroy all you own
I’m God
I’m odd.

Ezekiel the brave came down in chariots of fire
A traveller from stars beyond in shimmering attire
Said God
The odd.

Poor old Jonah, just a working prophet, as you do,
Had to go to Nineveh who’d pissed off God the goon
Cause God
Is Odd

We all know what happened next; the storm, the sailors and the whale
The big man in the sky destroyed Nineveh anyway
That’s God
The Odd

Even after that Ol’ Eternal Eyes was far away from done
Killing the tree that sheltered Jonah’s sad eyes from the sun
Ah, God
How odd

Sodomites begone now, you ain’t living your life right
I’m gonna blast you brotherfucking heathen outa sight
I’m God
The Odd

But wait there Lot mate, and your wife, it ain’t your fault
But don’t look back, woman. Ah too late, I’ve made you salt
Said God
The Odd

At least you got your daughters, boy, and they’re pretty hot
They’ll get you pissed and fuck you till you’ve given all you’ve got
Hey! God,
That’s Odd

Slavery, selling your daughters, smashing babies’ heads
I’m God the Odd and I decide who’s living and who’s dead
Yeah, God
The Odd

Let’s talk some numbers, guys, let’s get integer kicks
Kill count: 371,186
For God
The Odd

The Bible, ah we love you man, you got that funky jive
Total kills: 1,862,265
Due to God
The Odd

Ah God
You Odd
You Odd
My God