Gay Nazi Sex Vicar in Schoolgirl Knickers Vice Disco Lawnmower Shock!
« My boyfriend rapes me every dayI have my hands down a High Court judge's pants »

Are we saving the orchids?

  Tue 12th November 2019

My temporary position, bordering, as Scarlet opined, on being a butler, brings novel sentences out of my working class mouth. In the fireplace in the drawing room, the radiant orchids were outshining the older, wrinkled flowers, and it was with regret that I obeyed the housekeeper's instructions to discard the lot.

Collecting the main course dishes the other day, I slow down to eavesdrop. "He's great at [throwing parties]," says one judge pointing to his neighbour. "He just invites everyone. Last time he had Ken Clarke, J--- S---, the only black English archbishop, the Headmaster of C--- Ladies College, and the deputy editor of a synonym of Observer."

They're at it again tonight, "throwing a party" by getting other people to do all the work. The main challenges will be serving people in the correct order, and maintaining a rock steady horizon line on the trays of champagne, eyeing the unsteady flutes silently conspiring to synchronise their collapse.

But after they've gone, we'll eat the same grub as them, without having to glitter. I don't envy them. I have a freedom they don't have, and if only people like me could collectivise, to that we could add considerable power.


Trina came down for the weekend. We had some of the worst amphetamine I've had for a long time, and lasted only a couple of hours at a housey-disco night which was too alcoholly and insufficiently druggie. Young people restlessly moving about on the dancefloor, bumping into us constantly, but standing still to check their phones.

A woman around our age bounded up to us. "Old people!" she exclaimed, offering her hand. She introduced us to her husband, whom she'd met in the club five years ago. "It was all e years ago, everyone bobbing about," he said. I don't associate a gentle rhythmic up and down movement with raving, except in the silent masturbation I had to practice afterwards as Trina lay asleep, the aphrodisiac qualities of the speed providing a handful of an invented, willing woman.

7 comments »

7 comments

Comment from: Scarlet [Visitor]

Are those the Judges pants!!?
I eek my flowers out for about a month, until the last stem is in a jam jar.
Sx

Thu 14th November 2019 @ 07:38 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

Verily, they are the pants in which fateful decisions are made.

Thu 14th November 2019 @ 09:30 Reply to this comment

Verily! You are so funny. Really nice to play catch-up here. You are a factotum. Hope the January gig is more satisfying than ironing britches. Admittedly, that’s setting the bar kind of low.

Thu 14th November 2019 @ 18:53 Reply to this comment
Comment from: kono [Visitor]

The real question i have is… who da fuckin bloody hell irons their underwear? or worse yet makes someone else do it? Of course as long as they pay you i’d iron them and then dance around in them but that’s just me…

Oh and how i remember the days of shit blow, which usually sent everyone running to the toilet to blow shit, a common cut here in the states is baby laxative and there were some funny scenes when a bunch of wastoids were all clenching their cheeks waiting to hit the shitter and arguing over who got to go next, the joys of humanity really… and that of course reminds me of the days of as the Bad Acid King of Podunk U. where every weekend for months we’d take the world’s shittiest acid, more speed than hallucinogen… it’s a wonderful life!!!

Fri 15th November 2019 @ 21:32 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

Exactly kono – what a complete waste of time and effort. I’m almost 56 and never in half a century have I applied an iron to a pair of pants before last week.

It’s weird stuff this lot – it turns up my sex drive to abnornal heights, so there must be something in it, but it is not speed as we know it.

I remember once in Leeds at Kim’s friend’s flat we had some coke cut with laxative and I was up half the night doing the noisiest shits in Yorkshire.

Sat 16th November 2019 @ 12:14 You are currently replying to this comment
Comment from: daisyfae [Visitor]

This is my question - maybe why judges are generally grumpy fuckers. Starched undercrackers? WHY?

Sun 17th November 2019 @ 00:35 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

I must say, the ones I’ve been looking after this week have been most pleasant and human, and I realise now what an onerous job it must be sometimes. Well, all the time. Still don’t think they should have included their pants in the laundry though.

Sun 17th November 2019 @ 09:30 Reply to this comment


Form is loading...

looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person


M / 55 / Bristol, "the most beautiful, interesting and distinguished city in England" -- John Betjeman [1961, source eludes me].

"Looby is a left-wing intellectual who is obsessed with a) women's clothes and b) tits." -- Joy of Bex.

WLTM literate woman, 40-65. Must have nice tits, a PhD, and an mdma factory in the shed, although the first on its own will do in the short term.


There are plenty of bastards who drink moderately. Of course, I don't consider them to be people. They are not our comrades.
Sergei Korovin, quoted in Pavel Krusanov, The Blue Book of the Alcoholic

I am here to change my life. I am here to force myself to change my life.
Chinese man I met during Freshers Week at Lancaster University, 2008

The more democratised art becomes, the more we recognise in it our own mediocrity.
James Meek

Tell me, why is it that even when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a beautiful evening, or a conversation in agreeable company, it all seems no more than a hint of some infinite felicity existing apart somewhere, rather than actual happiness – such, I mean, as we ourselves can really possess?
Turgenev, Fathers and Sons

I hate the iPod; I hate the idea that music is such a personal thing that you can just stick some earplugs in your ears and have an experience with music. Music is a social phenomenon.
Jeremy Wagner

La vie poetique has its pleasures, and readings--ideally a long way from home--are one of them. I can pretend to be George Szirtes.
George Szirtes

Using words well is a social virtue. Use 'fortuitous' once more to mean 'fortunate' and you move an English word another step towards the dustbin. If your mistake took hold, no-one who valued clarity would be able to use the word again.
John Whale

One good thing about being a Marxist is that you don't have to pretend to like work.
Terry Eagleton, What Is A Novel?, Lancaster University, 1 Feb 2010

The working man is a fucking loser.
Mick, The Golden Lion, Lancaster, 21 Mar 2011

  XML Feeds

b2evolution CMS
 

©2019 by looby. Don't steal anything or you'll have a 9st arts graduate to deal with.

Contact | Help | b2evolution skins by Asevo | Social CMS software