Sunday, 13 March 2011
Friday, 5 November 2010
Friday Bang Fuck
Bang Fuck Friday
It your time today
Friday Bang fuck
Never felt so good
I want some Friday
In my cereal.
Friday Bang Fuck
Make me smile
Bill Murray makes me want
Makes me want to dine
In your restaurant chain
Uncork that wine
Terrorize conventional thought
Get on your pyjamas
Go to court
Who gives a fuck
What you wear to fucking court?
Do it like MJ
Friday Bang Fuckin
Friday bang fuckin’ your face
I am a pigeon
Shitting on you the Prime Minister
I want to shit on the President
Bang fuck his face
Friday Bang Fuck
Heal heal heal
Like a 10 minute microwavable meal
Friday bang fuck
Friday bang fuckin’ your beautiful ears
Bang fuck time.
that was poem by Mojo
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
I didn't know where I was going to go from here. I needed an angel to save me from this world. I live a regrettable life.
Thursday, 14 October 2010
Lunch is fucking cla. Look at Obam-bam there....his popularity in the polls is decreasing but he's just had some lunch and he's going out there to fuck that Tea Party up. He fucking loves lunch plus hes thinking "Who are all these wankers? I just came for a quiet pint at my local boozer and these cunts showed up."
Yeah, lunch is great. For two years though I used to find lunch a total misery. I worked in the Mournes and I used to go to lunch with my boss every day. Now, we didn't work on Wall Street...we worked in THE MOURNES. He used to buy the Irish News and talk endlessly about the local deaths. He usually just made grunts. I loved him more than any man I ever met. In a little room in the middle of the mournes whilst the rain was pouring down outside on a dark November day we sat down for lunch.......
My boss = Ah, are you right?
Mojo = Aye, fuckin' shit day
My boss = aye
Mojo = what about you?
My boss = (sigh) aye
Mojo = aye
Mojo = you know I'm getting fucking sick of ham sandwiches. They're shite.
My boss = aye
Mojo = aye, wile bad craic like.
My boss = awh......
Mojo = Wha?
My boss = awh no
Mojo = what's wrong?
My boss (whilst looking at the Irish news)=wee paddy fitzpatrick is dead .I must tell Mariead
Mojo = who's that?
My boss = wee Paddy?
Mojo = yeah, did you know him?
My boss = He's married to wee Margaret's cousin Gene.
Mojo = Who's Margaret
My boss = she's the lovely wee lady who passess the basket around at mass.
Mojo = ........................................................ oh. Did you know her?
My boss = aye, she gave me the basket last week.................. I was in the aisle seat. Paddy wasn't there though
Mojo = .....wile sad that...... it's always a shock
My boss = aye....poor Paddy....fucking wile sad
[even more silence]
Mojo = What's it like living in the Mournes ?
My boss = Wha?
Mojo = You know the Mournes?
My boss = awh it's good like.
Mojo = fuck all is happening though
My boss = aye I know...but its good...look at the scenery........it's better than fucking Newry. That's one shithole! Ha ha!
Mojo = What? I like NEwry.
My boss = You're just saying that because you live there....
Mojo = I know.
My boss = you're a cunt
Mojo = fuck off you're a cunt.
My boss = Ah look....... Castlewellan are playing mayobridge at the weekend......big game!
Mojo = aye, that's a big one
My boss = aye
Mojo = Wile craic like
My boss = [grunt]
[rustling of paper]
My boss = back to work...c'mon ya cunt.
Mojo = shite
And that was my life every day for two years.
=============== the end =======
Monday, 4 October 2010
The best thing you can do tomorrow is switch off your mobile phone and fuck it in the corner of your room. Let it sit there in the darkness. Give your head some peace. We're not made to carry a phone around all day. It's a new idea I'm championing called "Phone Break days". We carry these fucking things about and it endlessly toys with our emotions. Why is nobody calling me? Am I a leper? Am I a fucking leper? Should I be texting my gay uncle in Edinburgh? What about my brother? Will he hate me if I don't ask him how he's dodging deportation?
I remember when mobile phones got popular in the late 90s and I thought, "mobile phones are only for cunts".. Little did I know millions of people around the world would have a mobile phone within a couple of years. Yes, little did I know that I lived in a world of cunts and I was also a cunt. I was innocent then. I purposely didn't get one for a couple of years after having an argument with my girlfriend in the middle of the Limelight ( a nightclub in Belfast, East Ulster). She was texting one of her friends during "Creep" by Radiohead and I shouted at her through the music "how can you text through 'Creep'?" I was then head-butted by some wobbly Belfast cunt and knocked to the floor. I then needed to have a piss and decided to avoid the queue for the toilets by pissing on the dancefloor. I blame that debauchery on the emergence of the mobile phone. If my girlfriend didn't have a mobile phone I wouldn't have got headbutted and I wouldn't have had to piss on the dancefloor during "Creep".
Yes, stop exposing yourself in public. You don't need to tweet so much . Be more private because you'll become nothing. Every bit of you will be public property and there'll be nothing left of your soul. Psychologists have said recently that Facebook and Twitter and other such social networking sites are destroying people's sense of self. Now, nobody has any private self. They can be put together like jigsaw puzzles by looking at their tweets and facebook profile pictures. I'm on facebook as Teddy Tango, named after the great athlete of World sport, Teddy Tango. I don't really want to reveal too much of myself and I think I'm happier about this. Too much time is spent in the culture factories, dreaming up new ways on how to make money from words, music and beauty. Step out of the factory and smell the roses. It's a beautiful world out there. We need to kill and dehumaize the MAN. His body must be unrecognisable to family and friends.
(PLease note: The MAN = the political leaders, the bankers, the business men, the warlords and anyone who is responsible for the destruction of the Earth principally for short term gain)
Monday, 20 September 2010
Yeah life is shit. What's good about it? The sun? Fuck the sun, its bollocks. Sorry, I'm in a bad mood. Everything is shit when you're in a bad mood. Even puppies fuck you off when you're in a bad mood. I seen a puppy today and said "I wonder if I could cook that wee fucker. Hmmm puppy burger..." Why create a lie? Just be honest, everyone has wanted to eat a Puppy Burger at some point. Lovely lovely puppy meat.
I'm sometimes glad I've never put a teenage girl up the duff. It sometimes my only comfort in life. I don't think I've had a bad run. Maybe its over. The gold run. Maybe the gold runs over.
It was a Monday today. I expected it to be crap and it was. I seen a woman fall in the street and lots of people ran to help her. That was the best moment in my day. I stood there and just cried into my Down scarf. I am in mourning after getting beat in the GAA All IReland final. Not even Bennie Coulter could save us. Now I yearn for a better tomorrow. One that is Bennie-less but can be ultimately redemptive.