ok
im ashamed
im embarrassed
my bloggy yesterday
sorry
should not rant and rave
should not spend time releasing negative energy
should not bore you with my pustulent diatribes
so no more
that nasty part of sk has been quarantined
(tent on quarantino)
the troublemaker has been isolated
the ringleader has been apprehended and dealt with
severely
thats that
and thats it
and that
and that
no
nevermind

new paragraph
elektra and miranda have arrived
oh my lovely swedish daughters
so kind and nice
ole sk basking in the total overkill of feminine vibes
my five daughters waiting on me
hand and foot
oh so nice people
i recommend having five daughters
oh filial love
oh big daddy sk
(son, did you mo-lest mah daughter
he said, sk, i do not know of what you speak)
yes yes yes
what else
i can write a bloggy filled with love and light
i do not need to stoop to pointless carping criticism
of pea brained rockers
of gurlie schmaltz
of….
(ok he’s loose again
the demon sk
the bitter olde fellah
hang on
sound of left lobe being totally flattened)
ah, thats better
i mean he comes up with something interesting
every now and then
but he was the guy who was rude to the poor little bangles
he was the guy who wouldnt shake simon le blobs hand
he was the guy that played that nasssty trick on toto
whilst make starfish
he was the guy who disagreed with clive davis at arista
he was the guy who insulted the bullies at lyneham high
and left me to be beaten up
(hiya nick ward)
he was the guy….ah fuck him , people
if ya ever meet olde sk
and that wanker is in charge of the operation
give im a quick knee in the balls
and ask ‘im about maybe these fucken bouys
or whatever
whatever you like
i dont care
its a sunny morning in bondi
all five daughters present and accounted for
adelaide and melbourne looomin large
and a poetry reading in melbo as well
oh sk
you pretentious olde wanker
a fucking poetry reading
jesus
i cannot call myself a poet
it is a term that should be conferred
like genius
or a knighthood
(fat chance of that, olde bean)
so i dunno
if you meet someone who tells ya theyre a poet
laugh and walk away
(sounds of 250 people leaving sks bloggy)
hey mah peeeeple
where ya goin

but you do meet wankers
ya say what do ya do man
and they say
Im a poet, dude
HA
HA
nevermind my little fishes
still
it is alright
come to the po nite
the the cornah hotel
then the church murch desk
you can have a total sk nite
readin the po
listnin to the mooosic
lookin at the prints
then finish the nite
by being safe with the new sk condoms
available in titanium white
brilliant red
and regular sorta greeny yellow (these with ribs)
so
the merch train keeps on a rolling
with the new range of sk products
belching out of third world sweatshops soon
guaranteed to be made from endangered species!!
whatever you fiends
i should go home
before he gets nasssty again
lookin forward to narnia
BUT THE FUCKIN WITCH SHOULD HAVE BLACK HAIR NOT BLONDE!!!!!
nevermind all that
elektra is hassling me to finish up
havin a fershlugginer argument rite here
in this backpacker ridden, jet loving internet cafe
jesus
didnt see this coming
she cant understand that theres a few hundred peeeeple
who rely on this bloggo
for their daily fixx
ok
im gonna have to pull the pluggy now
im sorry, my little rodents
my little conkubines
my little ones
mu children of the night
BUT THATS IT
i love ya
YE OLDE SK