Monday, 29 August 2011

Smells like teen cells dying out

(above: and now, a bit of jim morrison's magnificent poetry. 'roses are purple. violets are orange. shit, I'm colourblind...')

Dear sufferers of this terrible mental condition called having 20/20 vision and having to wear glasses,

God knows, and South Wales Police by extension, that I like to hang around local primary schools and colleges in a trench coat and give my business cards away to the underage children of this very Celtic nation. My purpose is to convince those children to add me on Facebook (please) so I can carry out a sociological study about online habits amongst children aged 7-17. At least that's what I said in court.

Regardless of the actuality of this study, I drew some conclusions around this issue and I would like to discuss one them with you readers. This one I am talking about is one of the most certain and empirical of all I drew and reads as follows: Western kids are going to burn in hell and foreigners are taking our jobs and our women. But let us just focus on the first bit.

We all, more or less, have got a rough idea of what hell is - if not, we've all been in Magaluf. Well, imagine a world where everyone speaks rotten (American) English and is an irreversible victim of passive-aggressive behaviour. In case you don't know, passive-aggressive behaviour is the one that is produced by personal insecurity and manifests itself through being late, sulking, victimising and becoming a Liberal Democrat.

Children, stop bursting the pimples on your face and listen to me. Now I'm going to list 4 ways NOT to get a partner, which seems to be your major concern right now, and NOT to burn in hell along with Hitler, Stalin and JFK:

1- 'Liking' Facebook groups with spelling mistakes on their titles which can make you go blind (forget w***ing, this is far worse) in order to indirectly let someone else know what you are thinking about at the moment.
2- Quoting people whom you only read their Wikipedia articles, i.e.: Kurt Cobain, Mahatma Gandhi, Jim Morrison, John Lennon or Jimi Hendrix (yes, you should spell his name as such).
3- Display your knowledge of the lyrics in 'Smells like teen spirit', 'Wonderwall', 'Stairway to heaven', 'Bittersweet symphony' and 'Imagine'.
4- Using Justin Bieber or similar disgraces who live far far away from where you live as an excuse to avoid closer problems of yours, i.e.: your musical ignorance, your GCSEs or boys/girls paying not enough/too much attention to you.

You are welcome. Don't say anything, just stop sending me invitations to Mafia Wars (please).

THE WELSH PATIENT says: 'If any day I decide to leave this world, remember me as a hurricane Irene survivor. Never forget (that I was spending the weekend in Aberystwyth).'

Saturday, 20 August 2011

Dat sir

(above: anthony evans, aka tone-e, from monmouthshire (38) was a part-time shelf stacker at his local asda and devoted his spare time to his most beloved hobby - rap music. yesterday, he was found dead in a nearby forest after receiving a lightning impact. it is believed the lightning was attracted by his brand-new iron teeth soaked by the heavy rain. at the moment of his death he was recording the video clip for his latest single 'rappin' under a tree - feat. pitbull'. unfortunately, pitbull suffered no injuries or death whatsoever.)

Dear occasional onanists,

I acknowledge I have been away for quite a while, but this summer has been an eventful one. In July, I was too busy being drunk in Lloret de Mar whilst a crew from BBC3 was following me around along with my parents, and earlier this month, I was working hard in northeast London to provide my illegitimate ginger mulatto children with the life and future they deserve - i.e. 32'' plasma TV sets, Adidas tracksuit bottoms, Toblerones from Poundland and some tongue scrapers from Boots. So, now that I do have some spare time on my hands, I am going to present you with these lunatic asylum scratches of mine before the owner of this here cybercafé realises I am not wearing any clothes from the waist down.

Today, I would like to discuss over the topic of politeness and age. Often I hear war veterans who, when they are not yelling at pigeons and feeding bread crumbs to passers-by who tell them not to yell at the pigeons, shout indiscreetly at anyone below the age of 50: 'Bloody youth! Be less polite! I was in the 'Nam, for Christ's sake! I'm an exclamation mark bitch!'. Apart from the fact that the closest he has ever been to Vietnam is Colchester, I could not agree more.

The youth today is too polite. And I could and will prove it with facts. Two weeks ago I happened to be about to set fire to a JD shop when this 12-year-old kid came to me with a massive smirk on his face and told me: 'Excuse me, sir. Can I get some fire, please?' what do you mean by 'sir', wee man?! I'm 20! I could give you a cuddle in the nude and it would still be legal! And also, a couple more things I'd like to tell you: it's 'can I have', you oompa-loompa in miniature! You're not in America! And the answer is 'no, you can't have any fire', you shouldn't smoke at this tender age.

Of course, I did not actually tell him off. I kept it all in my head, for one has got poise - I painted his face black with a burnt cork, cuffed him and gave him away to the English Defence League.

THE WELSH PATIENT says: 'I used to be a member of the EDL, but then I realised that I was neither English nor a mentally challenged monkey'