Thursday, 18 March 2010


Years ago I was in a busy book shop run by a chatty old lady. I took a while to pick out a book by which time a bit of a queue had formed. I waited while she chatted to the first guy about an upcoming book tour by his author, she chatted to the next woman about a recent change in direction for her author, chatted to the next about his book’s literary themes… and then it was my turn.

When she looked down to see which one of her treasures I'd plumped and saw George Carlin's "When Will Jesus Bring The Pork Chops", she couldn't get rid of me quick enough!

Her loss!! The guy was a classic; fearless and truly original. Loved language, hated bullshit. I was lucky enough to see him live in April 2008 just before he died a couple of months later, unrepentant at the age of 71.

"People who see life as anything more than pure entertainment are missing the point"

Generally, he's not in the safe-for-work category, but these are the comparatively gentle opening pages of the offending book, also home to lines like, "The wrong two Beatles died first."


I'm a modern man,
digital and smoke-free;
a man for the millennium.

A diversified, multicultural,
postmodern deconstructionist;
politically, anatomically and ecologically incorrect.
I've been uplinked and downloaded,
I've been inputted and outsourced,
I know the upside of downsizing,
I know the downside of upgrading.

I'm a high-tech lowlife.
A cutting-edge, state-of-the-art,
bicoastal multitasker
and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.

I'm new wave, but I'm old school;
and my inner child is outward bound.

I'm a hot-wired, heat-seeking,
warm-hearted cool customer,
voice-activated and biodegradable.

I interface with my database,
and my database is in cyberspace,
so I'm interactive, I'm hyperactive,
and from time to time I'm radioactive.

Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve,
ridin' the wave, dodgin' the bullet,
pushing the envelope.

I'm on point, on task, on message,
and off drugs.

I got no need for coke and speed;
I got no urge to binge and purge.

I'm in the moment, on the edge,
over the top, but under the radar.

A high-concept, low-profile,
medium-range ballistic missionary.

A street-wise smart bomb.
A top-gun bottom feeder.

I wear power ties, I tell power lies,
I take power naps, I run victory laps.

I'm a totally ongoing, bigfoot slam-dunk
rainmaker with a proactive outreach.

A raging workaholic, a working rageaholic;
out of rehab and in denial.

I've got a personal trainer,
a personal shopper,
a personal assistant,
and a personal agenda.

You can't shut me up;
you can't dumb me down.

'Cause I'm tireless, and I'm wireless.
I'm an alpha male on beta blockers.

I'm a non-believer,
I'm an over-achiever;
Laid-back and fashion forward.
Up front, down home;
low-rent, high-maintenance.

I'm super-sized, long-lasting,
high-definition, fast-acting,
oven-ready, and built to last.

A hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk, headcase;
prematurely post-traumatic,
and I have a love child who sends me hate mail.

But I'm feeling, I'm caring,
I'm healing, I'm sharing.
A supportive bonding nurturing
primary caregiver.

My output is down, but my income is up.
I take a short position on the long bond,
and my revenue stream has its own cash flow.

I read junk mail, I eat junk food,
I buy junk bonds, I watch trash sports.

I'm gender-specific, capital-intensive,
user-friendly and lactose-intolerant.

I like rough sex; I like tough love.
I use the F-word in my E-Mail.
And the software on my hard drive
is hardcore - no soft porn.

I bought a microwave at a mini mall.
I bought a mini van in a mega store.
I eat fast food in the slow lane.

I'm toll-free, bite-sized, ready-to-wear,
and I come in all sizes.

A fully-equipped, factory-authorized,
hospital-tested, clinically-proven,
scientifically formulated medical miracle.

I've been pre-washed, pre-cooked, pre-heated,
pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged,
post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped
and vacuum-packed,

And... I have an unlimited broadband capacity.

I'm a rude dude, but I'm the real deal.
Lean and mean.
Cocked, locked and ready to rock;
rough tough and hard to bluff.

I take it slow, I go with the flow;
I ride with the tide, I've got glide in my stride.

Drivin' and movin', sailin' and spinnin';
jivin' and groovin', wailin' and whinin'.

I don't snooze, so I don't lose.
I keep the pedal to the metal
and the rubber on the road.
I party hearty, and lunch time is crunch time.
I'm hangin' in, there ain't no doubt,
and I'm hanging tough.
Over and out.

No comments:

Post a Comment