Podgy, Roker/ (The) Podgy Roker/ 'Podgy' (from) Roker/ (Mr.) Podgy Roker esq/ (I live in) Podgy, Roker

On the way to Leuchars I lost another Mackaye beanie. I must have lost hundreds o' them ower the years. Somehow it appears to be the only piece of identity fun my preventative valve will permit. Deek denied that he used to wear a patterned skullcap affair in the late 80's. I tell everybody I'm going to get a tattoo. It'll say "I am the crease in the shirt this world wears". It's great to be an everyman. Not for me thae dark glesses or patterned wellies which you a' love. T-shirts that say "I like sex". 'Crappy' £50 bags wi' Gola on them. How nicely the strap fits diagonally ower yer lithe shodders. Newsprint hoodies. Think aboot it. These things are what get you on in life. Pushing the misfit to the edge of the dancefloor. Snogging in his face. Early '92. Escaping mother to go and see Belly. Dressed in a dockyard jacket. The world carries on. Undergrads. They all eat rice and pulses then go to 'pull' in the Beer Bar. It's just like Jackie O's but with facillities and fringes. Sleep on Kai's floor. Really. The longer I live the more I just ken it to be true eg see that Michael Branagh? I really loved his Motorhead tee. In a bedsit somewhere there is a large man. He wrestles with the fact that he 'just cannot find a way into life'. He gives you abstract missives which aren't choked through choice. He can't settle on it. What is the point? Where is the context for a 'lonely' person? Even worse, one who has the look of a beast? who is 'heavy'? who is good in short doses? who writes manipulative pieces on the interweb to draw in sympathetic replies? who has Barry Bulsara status? The options have been exhausted. 1988. Wander around the bus station in a cowboy hat and a long coat which didn't even come from Ultarian. You see, they can buy an identity and change it if it doesn't work. I can't afford that. No contribution. No aroma of Gena Rowlands. Am searching for the means to an end. The fucking liberty taking. My one consolation is found in empty melodrama. Contribution. Obsessed with dogma. 30 stone partially sighted procedural fanatic in Karaoke based DSSS scrounging fest. The legendary Meek is now dead. He 'did' many windows 'on the side'. His accomplice looks after lushes with one leg now. He's on a back to work programme. Booze and fags. Trifectas. Lists are easy. Beaucoups of blues. I attended the inaugural Festival of Drifting. It's still going. The sound of impossibility is the sound of you playing wi yersel, trying to make the noises so it feels like an intimate experience. I am lost and I want it that way. It must be my choice. Asserting one's rights. 'They' all assert their perogatives to be 'shaggers'. I've got knackered furniture items . That's all I need. I'm in T-Hall ya bass. T-Hall tokers are finding the way and staking a claim on life. They have lasted the test of time. They are way more legitimate. Enter The Dragon- The Directors Cut. The proto barmy army shouted "Devon's back". I winced in the saggy old. I never 'shot my muck' until I was 24. The sex Olympics went on nearby. I didn't think it worked. Pages 12 and 13. The sex Olympics around you. "Put it in yer mooth Denise/ "Show us Yer Blert". Leave it to chance that the Kathy Burke family at 134 cannae see me in action. Going at it from a certain angle. There is a type of interaction that you all know how to do. It's instinctive in you. It is the currency of life. That's what you need to meet thae rules of attraction. Can you find a way into the vernacular? Either a "oh yes, the Bwillo?" or a "I'll goose ye, ya cunt". The type you need to get on. When there is nobody and you try to write about it, to 'let it out' of your heid and your hand, turn into popular song so it makes sense to 'you, the living'. How can it ever compare? What interest is a person's despair and 'genuinely crippling' loneliness to another? It can only come across as 2nd hand peeing unless you take a stand . It can never look good. Don't have it. Unhappiness is uncontrollable. Hyperbole in the words. Gives you away. Shows off nothing but limitation. You are not Bradshaw. You gave Need New Body at least 10 minutes to weave their spell. You didn't instinctively realise they had no credentials and ditch them for what they surely were. 'You' all sussed it out. To a man you look like Jeremy Sisto. Where am I? The free 10 minutes are up.