I've Got Summink to Say

Tag: writing

  • Don’t worry Prof. Moncrieff

    You’ve got nothing to worry about Joanna, It’s true that my family are the hardest, nuttiest, family ever which is why we were always the very best at what we did, but other people are brilliant too and I got played for a fool as well but what you have to know is if I die I was the one the King wanted to die so you were just part of the plan and you’ve nothing to worry about, your life is in no danger as long as you just carry on being yourself and everyone knows mistakes happen and lessons get learnt so give me a bell when you want.

    You have to understand a lot of the most brilliant people in the world are scared of me because they know I’m also the most intelligent person that has ever lived so far and that makes me the most dangerous person in the world so I just hope they think I’m useful enough to keep alive and thinking. I actually solved Fermat’s last theory and now there are three theories of the origins of the universe instead of two.

    Frankly the best I can do is put me best whistle on, toddle off to London and pay my respects old skool stylee.

    If you really fantasise about having a lesbian threesome just go to a G.A.Y bar and try one, no one gives a shit about what sex you enjoy as long as it’s legal and consenual. I decided to just try and fulfill all my fantasies and If you’d known me when I was living on my yacht even the Russian mafia got pissed off with me because 4 of their most beautiful prostitutes decided to have 5 of my kids because those women understand that most Englishmen are either too scared, too old, too drunk or too violent to appreciate a beautiful woman is a beautiful woman. The only one they thought I might be was too drunk and I never was, even after 10 pints.

    Here’s one foe Sharky Steve:

    If any any of you are still worried eat a tuna sandwich and if you want to laugh out loud loud drink a couple of pints of orange juice.

    Back Later…

  • F.A.O old joanna moncrieff

    And anyone worldwide who reads this blog

    I knew you’d lied to me from the first meeting but I thought you had just made a mistake so I gave you the benefit of the doubt.

    I now know you gave me Paliperidone even after I said I’d kill anyone who ever stuck it in me (middle finger up to that)

    However there’s more than one way I can skin you and therefore I have decided to both pay privately for a full blood screen and to look specifically for Paliperidone and also a full health check.

    You should also be aware that all of you seem to think you can break any law even if it includes murder.

    None of you seem to realise that the Lampard Inquiry is the very top of the Government telling you all must change.

    I worked for the Government and I know that every email, every phone call you have ever made is recorded.

    If I die as a result of deliberately abusive treatment I didn’t ever want or need they may just come after you. At the very least there are likely going to be a large number of job cuts.

    In prison you may just get all the lesbian threesomes you desire to your heart’s content.

    You may also learn what true marxism is all about in the prison laundry when you earn £1 each and every time you get a fist.

    Under no circumstances will I engage with you or any member of your appalling service again.

    I believe in God and you should consider that if you believe that there is a psyche causing voices and not the scientific theory that it’s caused by a hormone imbalance in the neurons that there may be an immortal soul and eternal damnation.

    p.s joanna you’ve been stitched up good an’ proper because you have no hope of avoiding life imprisonment without parole but you have chosen death because you are criminally insane and will be put on antipsychotics until your liver and kidneys fail and don’t bother thinking about troubling us again because my dad and his brother have both killed more people than the 50 you wanted to.

  • I’m Not Lion

    Good evening, it’s 6pm here and I’m feline good at the moment and in the mood to write something a bit off beat which may interest one or two of you, particularly if you like music and have pets.

    For no particular reason I remembered an article I read yonks ago that stated that cats and dogs can like some human music but not all genres and found that some excellent recent research had recently been done by the University of Wisconsin.

    What Kind of Music Do Cats Like? What Science Says – Catster

    The research suggested that cats didn’t like Bach’s Air on a G String.

    Frankly it’s a beautiful bit of music but listening to it I came to the conclusion that the multiple violins are way too high pitched for a cat to enjoy: cats screech when they’re in distress and purr when they’re relaxed.

    So then I wondered whether a cello soloist (cats are generally solitary) was more to a cats taste and found the following piece of Bach’s music.

    But here is the bit where I lay claim to being a smart arse, The University of Wisconsin researchers asked a composer to come up with music that cats like and here are the results.

    Home | Music for Cats | David Teie

    Notice the similarity?

    So pussy lovers don’t ban Bach, ban the violence of the violin.

    And here’s one for dog lovers, Pennywise over Pink Floyd.

    That’s my own suggestion

    Finally I’m going to go really left field and suggest that a lazy lion might get that bit more lively and hungry with a bit of old school drum ‘n’ base or maybe some proper thrash metal.

    I reckon this set at Wacken would wake ’em.

    It’s no surprise this plastic cockney has spent the best part of 15 years in the UK’s knackered mental health system.

  • An Ode to George Orwell

    Good evening my small band of disciples, after a slightly fractious assessment with my Psychiatrist I appear to have managed to get my medication cut in half from low to very low so there appears to be some cause for cheer. I’ve had a few small vodkas but I’m not drunk and fancied writing something tonight but didn’t know what. My original plan to suggest men and women shouldn’t wear scent on a first date but should instead rely on natural hormones doesn’t appear to be backed up by science so instead I’ve decided to try my hand at writing a short story.

    There are some very talented writers on WordPress and I won’t claim to be counted amongst them but I had a lot of fun when I tried a bit of simple scriptwriting and I paid for the privilege with hard currency so I’m reserving the right to free speech here.

    So here it is, a short story in the style of 1984 titled:

    Comply, Conform, Cooperate

    The day started normally enough for Derek Simpkins, the alarm sounded at 6.00am sharp and he rubbed his tired eyes as he rose and prepared himself a breakfast of juice and cereal.

    After freshening up with a shower Derek put on a newly pressed work uniform; today was an important day, he was going to find out if the editor was pleased with the article he’d written for the Authority periodical. He’d been given free reign to write and had based his article on a conversation he’d had with his father when he was a child.

    “When I was growing up we had freedom of speech” his father had told him. Derek knew how important freedom of speech was and how the Authority guaranteed it for all citizens.

    Just as Derek was putting his pass on his uniform the emergency siren sounded and Derek heard the safety bolts automatically slot into place on the exits to his premises and heard the quiet motors of the safety shutters as they slid down to cover the windows.

    Wondering what the alert was for this time Derek turned on the information portal in his room to be met with an increasingly familiar warning ‘Subversive activity detected in your zone. You must remain inside until safe’.

    This was the third time in the last year that Derek’s zone had been locked down due to subversives. The first time was shortly before his partner Adam had been promoted to an out of zone role working in the Crypto mine. Fortunately the security authority was excellent and the threat was usually extinguished by the end of the day.

    There was only one thing to do, join the multitude playing the Nation’s favourite multiplayer game of strategy ‘Comply, Conform, Cooperate’.

    Logging on Derek noticed that he was now on level 3 ‘Social Acceptance’. The first mandatory task was to read the lengthy instructions on how to complete the level before joining the game.

    It took Derek around 4 hours to complete the level and his final assessment informed him he was in the top 10% of all participants, his usual rank.

    Wondering what to do next and when the subversive activity would be quelled Derek used his mobile portal to check his credits. Noticing he had been debited three days of his monthly allowance for the cost of Comply, Conform, Cooperate he consoled himself that it had kept him occupied until early afternoon and went to prepare himself lunch. He was hoping this lockdown wouldn’t last as long as the second one which left him without food for two days before the all clear was given.

    Fortunately around an hour after lunch the all clear sounded and Derek used the opportunity to video chat with the editor.

    “Sorry old bean” started the editor “we didn’t publish your article but don’t despair we really like your style and want you to write an article reviewing Comply, Conform, Cooperate. You can take the rest of the day off work but remember to start first thing tomorrow at 8.00. We can’t pay your allowance for today, Authority policy.”

  • Just Because You’re Paranoid…

    It’s not quite 4am here and having been put back on 40mg of Depixol I have found that I am getting increasingly stupid in thought, many of the things that I had great pleasure in reading and trying to understand, anthropology, philosophy, poetry, foreign languages, science are becoming a memory so this morning’s missive from the massive is more of a bitter rant at the injustice of it all and the corruption that permeates my life.

    In the previous incarnation of my blog I posted that I had been diagnosed as having autism spectrum disorder (whilst on remand in the psychiatric wing of Pentonville prison of all places) and given family history and my own understanding of myself it seems like a good assessment. At 53 I’m only so bothered about the diagnosis, I’ve got by this far one way or another but did want the diagnosis formalised simply because I am considering trying to return to work next year and can blame everything on myself without HR being able to do a damn thing about me.

    But this is where I come on to the main subject of my post: who the hell is out to get me?

    It sounds paranoid, particularly from someone who has spent time worrying that MI5 had taken an interest in them some years ago. On that front I would say that the reason for that was time I spent arguing the toss online over the Blair administration’s policy of mass open door immigration and multiculturalism which I never approved of, preferring a smaller, targeted immigration policy. The point is I appeared to occasionally have an appealing way with words and got picked up on and quoted by the conservative press (Daily Telegraph and Daily Mail). That is, my fears that I had come to authority attention were maybe not entirely without foundation.

    But on the other hand as far as I can see I’ve also led a largely blameless life, trying to get by the way I was brought up to, an ordinary day’s work, a trip to the pub after with friends and colleagues, none of whom were likely to have been any bother to anyone themselves.

    That brings me on to NELFT mental health services. Firstly I would say I truly regret trusting the NHS and psychiatry, they have ruined important years of my life and having ended up in a dispute with them at a time when they are under intense scrutiny for the parlous, sometimes fatal, standard of their care and their reputation for corruption, crime and cover ups I wonder whether once again they haven’t decided to far exceed their legal powers to brush me aside.

    For example a large amount of important paperwork from them has simply disappeared from my room as has my passport (I was exploring the possibility of leaving England to claim asylum elsewhere to escape the NHS). I will now have a far harder time proving many (but not all) of their lies and falsehoods, a number of which are criminal in nature.

    Also, although I am trying hard to like my new psychiatrist I’m not convinced she’s playing with an entirely straight bat and inconsistencies which stop being deniable if assessments are voice recorded are starting to crop up.

    I do not wish to take antipsychotic medication any more, when I got off it fully the hard way I was in fantastic mental and physical health, but fear there is an attempt at damage limitation, writing off the last two disastrous years as merely a medication problem whilst trying to hide the fact I never should have been on antipsychotics for any of the previous years.

    I’ve chosen paper mache

  • Egrets, I’ve Shot a Few

    The final part of the musical interlude and it’s a sort of reminiscence starting recently and going back to primary school.

    Even my housewife sister has this on CD, why had I not heard this until a week ago. Wet Leg are from the Isle of Wight, wet legs are from the mainland.

    This next one reminds me of a couple of summers ago, sitting outside the library at 2 in the morning sharing a roll up with an autistic teenager who had her plans to go to university destroyed by Goodmayes a few months after me. It broke my heart to see the state they left her in. It’s a very long track but well worth the listen. Superb.

    Placebo have been around donkey’s years and they’re still releasing material. This is an old track but I still like it.

    Going back a bit, this stoner rock band are cool. Reminds me of the time I spent working for a fund manager in London.

    This is an acoustic track by Tyla of one of his old Dogs D’amour tracks, my girlfriend at the time absolutely hated everything about this album.

    This takes me back to when I got back from Australia and rented a 2 bed flat with a friend, he got me into this band over endless vodka, pizza and Playstation Worms sessions.

    One or two people at university thought this should be my anthem, back then I used to measure distances in Marlboro red; it wasn’t a 20 minute walk, it was 4 Marlboro red.

    My sister’s boyfriend introduced me to metal so something a bit different in that genre.

    Back to school days and there are quite a few I could choose but went for Ultravox. Back then the TV news scared us ragged that the Russians were about to nuke us.

    Even further back to primary school and one of the best bands of that era.

    Finally! some Chas ‘n’ Dave. I actually used to go down to Margate with my whole family including nana Jackson in dad’s old Hillman Minx. Penny slots on the pier, Dreamland, ice cream and a sea full of raw sewage.

    Time for bed, I’ve wasted a few hours of another wasted day listening to music.

  • Hieorographics is a Thang

    …The subject of this morning’s missive from the massive.

    I bet you’re confused already.

    It’s just past 4am and I’ve had some caffeine and I’ve been thinking about language, its origins and the development of new words and phrases which could have a logical formal use but are currently ambiguous and also grammar’s future evolution in the computer age when it is far easier to communicate with total strangers globally in typically American English.

    This post may seem rambling (that’s a British idiom which brings me on to my first point).

    If I’m trying to make a serious point I try to write formally, however if I’m larking around (another British idiom) I frequently use idiom and slang and even invent my own words and phrases for fun (missive from the massive anyone? I know what I mean, do you? It’s a mixture of an outdated English word and modern black British slang which means ‘today’s post’).

    And here is my second point, the word thang. It’s African American apparently and means exactly the same as thing.

    But then could thang and thing develop into two formal words with distinct meanings based on current usage. I therefore propose that thang could formally become defined as a preference or emotion and thing as a physical object.

    But now onto the most interesting point to my mind, hierographics (another word I invented this morning, think emoticons in mobile phone text messages 😉 becoming formal symbols in punctuation).

    I contribute to a number of chat rooms with people that are total strangers but without the intonation, emotion or body language possible if speaking face to face that would help convey the intent and meaning behind their words. In these chat rooms I sometimes have trouble working out whether people are being serious or joking, sarcastic, condescending or friendly. That’s where emoticons help a lot, the smiley face, the winking face, the raging anger face.

    That’s where I thought new formal punctuation symbols could help in the internet age. I thought of two simple ones; parenthesis () rotated through 90 degrees to convey happiness or unhappiness. There must be some other useful ones.

    An addendum: I frequently post youtube links on my blog, most of the time they’re not important but every now and then watching them is, because they’re the subject of the post.

    Robert David Jackson