Here I Go Again

“If you don’t know where you come from, then you don’t know where you are, and if you don’t know where you are, then you don’t know where you’re going. And if you don’t know where you’re going, then you’re probably going wrong.”

- Sir Terry Pratchett (via Tiffany Aching), I Shall Wear Midnight

Here I Go Again

Here goes my pants,

Here goes my shirts.

Here goes my fears,

Here goes my hurts.

Here goes my schooling,

The lessons I’ve learned,

The lessons I’ve forgotten,

The bridges I’ve burned.

Here goes my job,

My livelihood, my trade.

Here goes the cockups,

All the mistakes that I’ve made.

Here goes my goals,

Here goes my regrets,

Here goes my winnings,

Here goes my debts.

Hear goes my courage,

My weaknesses, and sin.

Here goes the memories,

Of all the places I’ve been.

Here goes my loves,

And all of my romance.

All my missed opportunities,

And hopes for a second chance.

There goes who I was,

The way I used to be.

Here comes tomorrow,

And the way I wish to be.

Life's A Beach

Life’s a Beach

When the summers at its peak,

And really turning on the heat,

You gotta get yourself on down,

To a place just off Holman Street.

Catch a ferry if you like,

Past all the tourists and the wanks,

That flock to the piss filled pools.

Known as ‘the Beach’ at South Bank.

Down the back o’ Cap’n Burke park.

In the shade of the Story Bridge.

A true slice of God’s Country,

Called Kangaroo Point Beach

The city’s best kept secret,

Is only revealed twice a day.

Those few precious hours,

When the tide has rolled away.

Fantastic for catching some rays,

Or if you’re keen for a swim,*

Just don your lolly bags,

And dive right on in.

Bring a rod, or bring a reel,

Wet a line for what it’s worth.**

Go on and try your luck.

Maybe you’ll land a Brown Snake Perch.

Remember to watch for stray balls,

That come flying down from the park.

And if you are getting wet,

Just try and dodge all the bull sharks.

Get yourself involved,

Don’t be an out of towner,

Down Kangaroo Point Beach,

‘Where the water’s browner!’

*Seriously don't swim. If you have to, go to South Bank for swimming, it might be full of little kiddies ablutions, but they have chlorine for that. God knows what they'd need to make that stretch of the Brisbane River swimmable. Bull sharks would be the least of your worries in that slop.

**Worth fuckall. If do you catch anything, don't even give it the Rex Hunt treatment (certainly don't eat it). Do yourself a favour, and just toss it back.

No Takesies Backsies

Flicking through some old note pads and found the start of this written down. Can't say I remember writing it, or why, but it is unmistakably the block letter scrawl that I call my hand writing. Anyway, it amused me so I thought I'd try and finish it off, or at least add to it.

Not sure it's really worth truly finishing.....

No Takesies Backsies

Can you return a schooner of beer?

I wanted an ale that was cold,

In a glass that was clear.

But the barman said,

“We don’t take returns round here.”

Why, oh why can’t I return my beer?

Can you return a pair of jocks?

I wanted some tight round my bum,

And not too snug on my cock.

But the manager said,

“We don’t take those back in stock.”

Why, oh why can’t I return my jocks?

Can you return a soiled tissue?

I wanted one to wipe up my jizz,

Without any issue.

But the shop keep said,

“Refunds are not something we eschew.”

Why, oh why can’t I return my tissue?

Can you return a dirty sex toy?

I wanted one warm and squishy,

That was made for a (play) boy.

But the lady said,

“We don’t go in for the refunding ploy.”

Why, oh why can’t I refund my sex toy?

Can you return a set of implants?

I wanted something to extend,

Accentuate, and enhance.

But the surgeon said,

“Extractions aren’t something we’re willing to chance.”

Why, oh why can’t I return my implants?


Bonus verse available on application.