Thanks Steve, that’s beautiful (so are you!)
Ted Hughs, former British poet laureate, wrote in The Thought Fox:
Coming about its own business
Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.
WOW! I like Fox thoughts. Every morning I try to start the day on a positive mental note by looking in the mirror and saying ‘Fox is a great guy and everyone is glad to know him’ … 8)
Brilliant Steve, the likenesses are uncanny! I swear I can still hear my daughter Imogen laughing in her sleep (she knows both foxy & billy too well).
Speaking of Hughesy there Bill, obviously he knew a thing or 2 about skating and skaters. Another one of his dittys called Hawk Roosting has lines like:
[i]My feet are locked upon the rough bark
…fly up, and revolve it all slowly-
For the one path of my flight is direct
Through the bones of the living…[/i]
“rough bark” = pre-grip tape days. Obviously a bloody old poem.
Ah yes Professor Jones, an acute observation indeed! So good to see you in the mood for the old dithyrambs once again. I say what, perhaps this explains the fate of poor old Sylvia Plath. She was the inaugural skatewidow!
Must get into my smoking jacket and hook up the old laudanum drip, what …
“dithyrambs” aint in my dicshunary Bill ya smart kunt. Get orf ya intalectural high horse and speak english fark ya.
5 VB’s T.F.I.F.
I note that Mr. Exec’s literacy levels seem to decrease in inverse proportion to the number of VBs consumed…
Having said that, my ability to speak Swahili increases in direct proportion to the number of beers I consume!
Dear Mr Exec,
I am as always saddened, yet hardly surprised, to find that your prose consists largely of platitudinous malapropisms and gratuitous neologisms. Such linguistic depravity is transparently indicative of a petit-bourgeois sensibility obsessed with performing public displays of inebriated masculine bravado in a state of unalloyed oblivion. The only apposite response possible here is one of muted pity. Sir, I cannot affirm your worldview!
Translated at AltaPersonality.Com (from Bondi Latte Pretentionese to Westy VB Drunkenese):
Hey Steve, f**&% you because your a c$#@& and a total f&%@#* p&&%$#@. You and the f@&%$ Medicore Arseshole Sucking Hoes can Kiss my ft87&&%$#. I hope that f**&^% Cozmick Avenger &&**%$# works out you &%#!))(+ Shinataro and shoves a &^%$# Andy Pandy doll right up yr f&^%$ a%%$$#@
You Know of course Dr Stoopid that real punks cant spell capuc cappuch
I don’t even remember writing that post about the beautiful Skate Exec! I’d been fully immersed in a bath of laudanum, 5 % solution, peyote juice, all three deadly nightshades, and cheap absynthe (a combo way stronger even than the infamous VB) for 36 hours and had completely lost all touch with reality. I do hope Cozmick Avenger’s Andy Pandy doll can be extracted and retrieved without too much surgical intervention …
MAS*H “Medicore Arseshole Sucking Hoes”
Next run of tees…
Steve, put me down for one t-shirt please!
How about this for a logo HASH
Put that in your pipe and smoke it!
More Obese Southern Sexagenarians
Mad Over Sydney Superiority
Masochistic Army of Self Harmers
Muz And Steve’s Homies
Moronic Association of Suck Holes
Masturbators Anonymous Seeks Hands
Nasty Anarchistic Crude C*&^s Outside Sydney
Suggested colours for this next run of tee’s:
Deep bruise purple
Salt & Pepper (black sprinkled w/grey, a la skatexec)
Bone dust off white
That’s it. I’m off to the Medicore office to enquire about safety net thresholds and how to get more ride for my rebate.
Im staying well away from this one. You bunch of shielas have gone insane.
god , i’m going to bash bill when I see him next
Join the queue Fox. I have now gratuitously insulted almost every member of this site. I fully expect to be drawn and quarter-piped at the MOSS Jam (But I won’t be alone: always remember that MOSSJam really means a ‘jam’ or ‘compote’ made from the Meat Of Sydney Skaters).
You won’t be getting off that easy.
No the full measure. Hung up, drawn and 1/4 piped for you Stoopid.
And after that your body will be cut up and fed to the BMX horde.
No trace of you shall remain.
No cult will rise to worship your matyrdom.
Michael, you should make my funeral pyre out of those shitty Birdhouse Logan Earth Ski copies. That way I’d be forced to wander the backstreets of the cosmos in shame … forever .