Chicken Shit Blues - part one

Chicken Shit Blues

 Orkney, November 2001

Dear Expatriate Chicken Rancher,

We have mad visions of you up to your arse in shit and feathers, wringing necks, plucking and eviscerating chickens. We tell the aboriginal Orcadians and they say sounds like a great career and what colour are the boiler suits and can you be pissed all the time?

House purchase is off, fucking place was falling down, held together with drawing pins, filler and masking tape. A pity because it was old and we had hoped to hire that speedy little poof Robinson to come and do his stuff, you know – running about the place, panting and simpering, peering into holes and wondering if they will finish the programme by the end of the programme. But never mind. Life seems to be full of pleasures denied or foregone.

Anyway, we are now pursuing with excitement an 1890 Lochside Hotel with views of the sea, huge grounds, private shore and four motor boats.  Buster is to be Head of Security, Barney to be the Dog in Front of the Bar Room Fire and His Imperial Majesty, Rocky Woo, insists that the place is renamed the Imperial Palace Hotel. Kindly take one of your chickens to a sacred Maori site and sacrifice her to the god of wannabee hoteliers.

Home  thoughts to one Abroad,

ishmael smith.

The sacrifice didn’t work, as mr ishmael failed to purchase the lochside hotel – the deal breaker was the sewage bubbling up in the carpark.

Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowdon, died 9^th February 2002

 Orkney, 12^th February 2002

Dear Chicken Shit Rancher,

Boom Boom, another one bites the dust. Drunken Royal Slapper found dead in local hospital. Mark our words the Queen Mum will be next.

Exemplary Single Mother Courageous to the End.

Elton John will sing Goodbye, Margaret Rose at the funeral. Elton so upset he vows not to put cocaine up his arse for a whole forty-eight hours. Barbara Windsor and Judi Dench to play Margaret in screen biopic.

Margaret living on moon with Elvis, George Harrison & Princess Di.

David Beckham to’ally gutted. Tony Robinson to do Timewatch Special: can they find Margaret’s body in three days? A grateful nation will not again see her like. God rest ye, merry Ma’am. Cliff Richard to record God Save our Gracious Queens. Tony Blair says she was the People’s Plonky, I mean Princess; I blame the Tories.

Nelson Mandela says that after myself she was the greatest living human being.

George Bush says america is a great nation a freedom loving nation, the terrorists responserous for this diabolifying act of death will be brought to justice in the american system of jurispremiums, given a fair trial and electrocutifried, princess margaret thatcher was a great friend to our nation and to my father the forty-oneth president of our great nation.

Take your pick – they are more or less all like that.

That’s all for now, but always, always remember: if you meet the Buddha on the road, Kill Him.

 

ishmael smith

 Orkney, 19^th February 2002

Dear Expatriate Chicken Rancher,

John and George are brothers in their seventies, blueboilersuits topped with long greybeards and whiskers. Its probably about forty years since they were sober. Gaunt and trembling, they look like they have just emerged from the grave, shuffling around the shtoresh, steaming streams of rancid urine flowing from their trouser legs over their greasy suede shoes. They are so drunk all the time that it seems that they could not be capable of locomotion, yet they seem to appear at different points outside our house without having travelled. They have taken to materialising outside our door in the middle of the night asking for drink, lifts and can I cash their giro, take them to the police station, plumb in their washing machine (odd this because their clothes, furniture and bedding look as though they have been sprayed with molten lard). The people in the shtoresh say they have convictions for child molestation. I think that they are satanist cannibals as well, hailing from a different time in Orkney’s dark past and I don’t think Rocky and the Poor Boys are quite safe outside. John and George of the Restless Dead have been dumped here from their previous accommodations, where they were becoming unbearable. I fear that the Gods will have blood. Unless, of course, Tony Robinson can come and unravel this mystery of the walking dead; he probably wouldn’t have time.

Her Royal Highness remains sadly deceased. When it emerged that she was to be a customer in a lo-cost crematorium in Slough, the Sun headline was, and I’m not shittin’ y’all, “La Crem de la Crem”.

We saw that new gay movie The Queens of the Ringpieces, all those simpering, wetlipped urchin boys and musclerippling moustachioed warriors, looks like they hired the cast from the public urinals under New Street Station. I fell asleep after two hours, mrs ishmael was not so lucky. I put an ad in the Orkney Advertiser seeking big house with sea views and we have bought one, all things being what they seldom are. It is an old manse on the coast and it is fabulous.

Snowing like a bastard here. Smellyboys all well. Have you travelled up that river featured in Frodo and the Rentboys?

Tony Blair revealed as shit-eating, pussywhipped, mealymouthed, lickspittle, thieving, lying, whingeing, shabby, incompetent, opportunistic fuckpig lawyershite. Again.

Executioner Bush says America is a great nation, a freedom loving nation and we will shold stander to stander with Princess Blair in his fight, his fight is America’s fight and in the words of your great wartime leader General Winston deGaulle: if the British empire last a thousand years folks will still say “this was their finest arse, excuse me, I meant to say hour, this was their finest hour, anybody got a line of coke?”

Take care of yourself and always remember if you meet the Buddha on the Road, kill him,

 

ishmael smith.

to be continued

 

Mr Mongoose's Big Fat Christmas Crossword GRID

 

mr mongoose's Big Fat Christmas Crossword

 

ACROSS

1 It farts early apparently. (7)

5 Just why we must obey the government. (7)

9 Such a Boris might solve our population crisis. (9)

10 Vomit around a river of the penniless. (5)

11 Brass sounding roots. (5)

12 I read somewhere but not there that the Coalition didn’t need these. (9)

14 What we would get if Harriet quit shaving. (5,9)

17 Manana. Manana. (14)

21 Wise words managing will get you new fretwork. (6,3)

23 Angela didn’t soar in the Commons. (5)

24 The more you bake, the more they take. (5)

25 A song from before, before and not. (5,4)

26 Washed in the kitchen sink, it becomes palest pink. (3,4)

27 One day, Sid, there will be consequences? (3,1,3)

DOWN

1 Gordon as are his fingernails. (6)

2 Bare gal figured figures. (7)

3 Run and get Sir! Roughly right. (5,4)

4 And it got about some other way that the Coalition didn’t need these either. (11)

5 Hguolcriaf repus. (3)

6 Firm support in the first briefing room. (5)

7 More of More’s work. (7)

8 On the level sounding prayer. (8)

13 If everyone in the pub was fighting, there’d be nobody there… (3,8)

15 Lucy is lunacy so. (9)

16 The key to extraterrestrial boozing. (5,3)

18 Vim-smoking us goose. (7)

19 Scotland, the best part of. (7)

20 What I hope you have not been for too long. (6)

22 What’s the point of a curry house like this? (5)

25 A game for welders. (3)

 

Evensong for Christmas Eve

 

 

 God Bless us, Everyone.

Winter Solstice: Maeshowe

 Come, you pagans and rejoice - it is December 21, the winter solstice, time to light the bonfires, beg the sun to come back and hand Father Christmas back onto his pagan throne. Not that thoroughly respectable, capitalist Christian chap, Santa Claus, wearing his uniform designed by Coca Cola of neat red tunic and trousers tucked into his booties, who likes kids in a respectable sort of way. No, our indigenous mid winter god, the Father, is altogether bacchanalian, bare breasted in his huge green robe, and holly-haired , who likes sex, eating and drinking vats of alcohol. He probably likes kids as well.

Here, today in Orkney, the sun rose at 9:05 and will set at 3:15 pm, so soliciting  the sun to resume normal duties was an important business for Neolithic Orcadians. Their complicated, astrologically-orientated stone structures bear silent witness to the ingenuity and endurance of the ancient peoples in pursuing their religion. The Ring of Brodgar was constructed 5000 years ago, from monoliths dragged across Orkney by symmonds on seaweed rafts. It predates Stonehenge, built to the same design as Brodgar,  and the great Pyramids of Egypt.

This is Maeshowe, a chambered tomb. It has a long, low entrance tunnel that cuts off most light most of the year from entering the central circular chamber. The entrance tunnel is aligned south-westerly, oriented towards the setting sun. On a clear day, the light of the setting sun on December 21st penetrates the tunnel, like the spot of a laser light and illuminates the back wall - like this:

The light builds, then declines as the sun falls behind the horizon. For the rest of the year, the interior can be seen only with the help of torches, illuminating the cunning stonework and the graffiti carved into the walls by a raiding party of Vikings taking shelter from a snow storm, as recently as the twelfth century. But on the day itself, the annual miracle of the light takes place, bequeathed to us by our ancient ancestors, who did, indeed, ensure that the sun came back.

 

I've been there to witness it in previous years; but this year Maeshowe is closed (Covid, natch), but Historic Environment Scotland (HES) is livestreaming an event celebrating Maeshowe and its midwinter alignment. You can watch it yourself on this link:

It starts at 3:00pm and there will be the solstice light effect, poetry, and story telling.

The Sunday Ishmael 19/12/2021

Music of the hautboys is under the stage

Second Soldier:     Music i' th' air

Third Soldier:             Under the earth

Fourth Soldier:     It signs well, does it not?

Third Soldier:             No.

First Soldier:     Peace, I say! What should this mean?

Second Soldier:         'Tis the god Hercules, 

                                    whom Anthony loved, now 

                                    leaves him.

Act iv, scene iii Antony and Cleopatra 

 

How much more  can Boris take? What's next? The suggestion is that Allegra fielded even more indiscreet questions in that fake press conference last December, and they all had a jolly good giggle about Boris' Giant Propensities and bastard children. They really are a sack of rats.

The triple pillar of the world transformed into a strumpet's fool

 

That's enough Shakespeare. ed.
 

The Contenders for Britain's next (unelected) Prime Minister:

Lord David (Jack) Frost

Wasn't he the one just resigned on issues of integrity?
 

Tank-Girl Truss

Rishi (rentboysuit) Sunak

 

Order! Order! The White Guy has it.

 

What, Me?

Jeremy *unt

No, silly, we'll take the portly integritous one.

 It will be just like old times again - having an unelected Prime Minister - here's mr ishmael on the last one:

 

HOW TO SPEAK SILLY SEASON COALITION 28/8/2010

 

FLASHMAN'S CLOSE SHAVE.

 GOSH, YOU CHAPS, I FEEL LIKE A PROPER SOLDIER, BRAVELY EATING THIS BREAKFAST, MUST GIVE MYSELF A MEDAL, WHAT, WHEN I GET HOME, SAFE AND SOUND, AS I WILL.

Now look, the Taliban tried very hard to kill me.  Well, they might have tried to kill me. At the very least, they might have thought about trying to kill me, rather as I think about killing them, all the time, when I'm not thinking of ways of punishing poor people, that is. Look, I know that they actually do kill lots of people, those chaps coming home in boxes and so on, most weeks, but that's absolutely vital if, as a nation,  we are to ensure that America rewards our senior politicians, in retirement. Now I know that some people have difficulty with the fact that politicians all have stonking pensions and free homes and furniture and directorships and so shouldn't really be getting rich from American terror companies but frankly, I think we all need to be grown-up about this and you should all fucking shut the fuck up or else we'll have to raise your pension-age to seventy.  Or eighty.  Or actually abolish the wretched things altogether, 'snot as though you've paid for them or anything. I don't actually need the money from GangsterCorp, not like Mr Blair and his ghastly Scouse bicycle,  but you  know, we Flashmans didn't get where we are by declining stolen money and when, after Christmas, the party sacks me, I might just as well go and lecture in the States. So let's have some sympathy out there;  the Talimen didn't kill me but there was a remote chance that they might have, and that's actually worse.  Look, I mean, just ask some single mother in her forties, biting her nails, in the council home she will soon have to vacate,  if she'd rather have her Darren come home dead or instead be worried by him briefly visiting Afghaniland inside a cordon of steel and  having his photo taken a lot and I'm pretty darn sure that she'd rather have him dead.  So, you see, it's worse for me. But what I always say is the we're all in this together or, as we used to say in the Bullingdon Club, which I was never in, dulce et decorum est pro Davidus mori, it is good to die for one's unelected prime minister, and these chaps are lucky we give them the chance to do so.

ANDROID COMMANDER DATA FATHERS HUMAN CHILD.

DAVID CAMERON, UK PRIME MINISTER, AFTER A FASHION.

LT. Commander Data,  of the Starship All-In-This-Together...
His five-year Mission: To stay in office at all costs.
"Ensign Clegg, put the CIVILISATION THRUSTERS in reverse"
"Aye-aye, Pretend Captain, full speed backwards to the glory days of the Nineteen-Thirties."

And something else. We've just had a working baby, no, no, not working as in common people, working for their betters, like us, no,  fuck that, working in the sense that she's not bedevilled by the old inbreeding germs, good working order, geddit? So that's another reason to love the Coalition of which I am in charge, only not like a proper prime minister.  One who'd actually won an election, against the worst, most despised  govament in history.  Just because I couldn't even manage  to do  that doesn't mean I shouldn't be prime minister, winning elections isn't what it's all about. If I ever do win one, which I won't,  then that will be what it's all about but since I haven't, it isn't.
Now look, just like all the children, little Flo will have to make her way in the world with  the barest fortune of about a hundred million pounds to help her on her way, so, in a sense, she's representative of all the babies in the country. Flo won't have a babybung or whatever they are. And her mother certainly won't be able to stay at home all day, dossing, or bonding with baby, as the idle sluts call it.  That's what nannies and servants are for, just as long as you don't pay them too much. Spoils 'em for other employers, that does. Having little baby Flo as we just have is almost like a pure publicity stunt of the sort performed by Mr Snot, the mad fairy  and Mr Kennedy, the pisshead but Samantha and I wouldn't stoop to that, any more than I would ride my bike with a limousine following behind me, with my clothes and my comb. No, we are just like any other normal couple of fabulously wealthy, land-owning, over-privileged, inbred and actually quite ugly fuckpigs, she equine with a big hooter, and me like an android, pretending that we are all in this together. With you. As if. Why can't people just be fooled, like Mr Coulson says they will, and support the Coalition? It's what they voted for, after all. Full speed astern. Unsteady as she goes.

...................................................................

 The Lord Mayor of London - yes, dear non-English Ishmaelites, there really is such a thing, and it is Pantomime Season, after all; was interviewed on the last edition of the Andrew Marr show this morning. 

 

Well, Andrew, and may I congratulate you on your presentation of 16 years of this BBC sycophancy, and I understand that you are off on Fresh Adventures where you can be your Own Man and have your Own Voice...

 

Yes, yes, yes, Lord Mayor, get on with it...

 

Well, Andrew, they are having a Cobra meeting and they've not invited me, and I'm Lord Mayor of London.

 

What of it, Lord Whittington?

 

Well, Andrew. London is collapsing and I have taken steps.

 

What steps are those, may I ask? (I actually know the answer, but it sounds good). 

I have declared a "Major Incident". I'm incredibly concerned about the numbers of Covid infections. It is incredibly important that Londoners understand how incredibly serious things are. 

 

Lord Mayor, I put it to you that the UK Health Security Agency said yesterday that the number of deaths in England of people with the Omicron variety has risen to seven, from the previous figure of one.

 

You see, Andrew, you see - the hospitals are swamped. London is collapsing. Everyone must have their vaccinations. I'm targeting all the black people, Polish people, gypsy people, Jewish people - all the non white Londoners. We must prevent this tidal wave from swamping our hospitals. And I really want to go to the Ball - sorry, Cobra meeting.

 

Thank you, that was Sadiq Khan, Mayor of London. 

Oh yes, it was.

Now I turn to the Mayor's cat:

Cameron Bess, pansexual furry

Cameron Bess, a rich man's son, was a passenger on the space ship, Blue Origin, owned by Jeff Bezos. Cameron is a twitch streamer named Meepskitten who likes to dress up as a blue cat. It's a thing. They call each other furries. It's a sexual thing. Honest, not Invent. He enjoyed his space ride with the  five other passengers. They played with little blue footballs. Didn't seem quite as overawed as Captain James T. Kirk-Shatner.

Answers to last week's Quiz

 
1. Is there A SpecSavers in Barnard Castle?
A. Yes. At 21 Horse Market, Barnard Castle, DL12 8LX
 

2. If a roll of wallpaper costs £840 a roll and is 10.5 metres long, how much will it cost to re-paper your 4 bedroom flat? 

 A. It depends on how many drops per roll. It is estimated that the No. 11 flat redecoration cost up to £200,000, but that place has very high ceilings and you'd get away with much less in a Seventies' semi.
 

3. When is a blind trust (a) nothing to do with curtains (b) not very trustworthy?

A.  When it doesn't exist. Boris decided, against legal advice, to commission a non-charitable trust to accept secret cash donations for his redecoration project. He appointed Lord Brownlow, who has a bob or two, as Chair of the Trust on 10/7/2020. The Trust was never set up. Brownlow paid for the redecoration out of his own pocket. The Conservatives have been fined £17,800 for their "lack of regard for the law" by the Electoral Commission.
 

4. When is a Party Not a Party?

 A. When alcohol is not served, according to Nazhim Zahawi, and it is held in the work place.  

 

5. How many serving Prime Ministers have had a baby? Were any of them female? Is this an Equal Opportunities issue? 

 A. (a) Four: 

                John Russell (1848 and 1849 - two kids, not a long labour)

               Tony Blair (2006)

                David Cameron (2010)

                Boris Johnson (2020 and 2021) 

      (b) None of them were female - there have been only two female Prime Ministers - Margaret Thatcher (1979-1990) and Theresa May (2016-2019), and they were past child-bearing age.

       (c) Probably. Apart from Macron, who married his teacher, 25 years older than himself, male heads of state tend to marry way beneath themselves - wealth and power being such aphrodisiacs for young women - just look at Monica and Virginia; whereas women do not achieve Great Offices of State until later in life. Biology is an Equal Opportunities Issue. However, just because they can doesn't mean they should. Hard enough running a country at the best of times, let alone when you are up all night with the baby, and hyper-emotional. Look at Boris. 
 

6. What Fresh Bollocks is This?

A. Served hot and steaming every day this last week, it seems.
 

7. How much longer will the Great British Public accept being openly mocked, derided and laughed at? 

A. Forever, I should think. The Royal Family has been getting away with it for years. 

Winner of the Mid-Week Caption Contest:

 Once again, they were all brilliant. le Marquis de sardine-sarnies submitted his entry twice, but no special privileges for that. I liked the serious face caption very much, but I can't possibly choose amongst such wit and erudition, so all shall have prizes. mr mike entertained hugely with his photo-entry:

so nice to see the bull getting his own back.

Today's Competition:  Name that Film

 

We saw that new gay movie: The Queens of the Ringpieces. 

All those simpering, wetlipped urchin boys and musclerippling moustachioed warriors. Looks like they hired the cast from the public urinal under New Street Station. I fell asleep after two hours. mrs. ishmael was not so lucky.

Film Review by ishmael smith 

 

...........................................................

The two anthologies of the works of mr ishmael and his young friend stanislav: Honest Not Invent and Vent Stack are available to buy for mere money from Lulu or Amazon. It is cheaper to buy from Lulu. Register an account with Lulu to save a couple of quid, as going straight into the link provided below seems to make paypal think it's ok to charge in dollars, and apply their own conversion rate, which will put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow our link; a pop-up box asks for age confirmation - simply set the date to (say) 1 January 1960, and proceed. (If you type the title, the anthology will not appear as a search result until the "show explicit content" box - found at the bottom left by scrolling down - has been checked.  You may also see the age verification box, as above, at this point.) 

 The full title is "Vent Stack love from stanislav" by ishmael smith, and the cover you'll see is red with white titles and a picture of Buster the Previous Blog Dog having a green thought in a green shade. 

Link for the paperback:

 https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/ishmael-smith/vent-stack/paperback/product-q8jzk2.html?page=1&pageSize=4

Or...

shorter link, which might make it easier if you wish to paste it into an email and tell a friend:

 https://tinyurl.com/naajavmu

 Honest, Not Invent is available in paperback or hardback.

Link for Hard Back : 

https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/ishmael-smith/honest-not-invent/hardcover/product-njr7vg.html

Link for Paper Back : 

https://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/ishmael-smith/honest-not-invent/paperback/product-wq2kpg.html

At checkout, try PROWRITINGAID15, WELCOME15 or TREAT15 in the coupon box, which  takes 15% off the price before postage.  If this code has expired by the time you reach this point, try a google search for "Lulu.com voucher code" and see what comes up.  

With the 15% voucher, the book (including delivery to a UK address) should cost £10.89