If your anything like me, your not actualy reading this. Yesterday I told my mum that blogs were wank. Ahem.
You may ask what caused this sudden change of heart. Well i had an ephiphany you see. It occured somewhere between 1PM, and discovering the entire contents of my fridge consisted of Mozarella cheese, that kind of looked liked lettuce.
Anyway, being bored and impoverished, and a raging indie-fag narcisist, combined with my love of writing, and the genius of Leonard Cohen has led me to conclude that perhaps blogs aren't in fact total wank, merely publishing for the 21st century.
And perhaps i should try and be less of a snob, seeing as I sit at home on the computer, living vicariously through the exploits of Paris Hilton, or drinking beer with Amie and spying on the neighbhours with the suspicious town car across the street.
Anyway, I thought i'd share my craft for your viewing pleasure.
Welcome to the Lunatic Café
Welcome to the lunatic café
Where everyone’s got a story
And happy hour lasts all day
There’s Uncle Sam against the wall
And Stalin playing chess
With Michael Moore
Ladies and gentlemen
Welcome to the lunatic café tonight
Come have a toke from Peter’s pipe
And gosh do we have a treat for you
The noise will outlast waterloo
The fat Controller to start our show
Joined shortly I hope
By miss Monroe
Scene two is comprised of the wizard of Oz
No special reason
Just because
Then a quick break to let your minds deflate
But don’t fret though
There’s tea and cake
Boys and girls hurry back to your seats
The shows about to resume
No more posting of tweets
As usual Mr. Bush, lagging behind
Smoking some college kids Cush
Wait no, fuck, that was mine
Anywho now, back to the program
A surprise demonstration
From dear Uncle Sam
He pulls out a missile to pick up the pace
Steps onto the stage
And promptly falls flat on his face
What a shame, never mind
The show must go on
Hey Frankie! How ‘bout a song
“Well” Frankie says
“I’m for whatever gets you through the night
So how ‘bout it boys”
As he steps into the spotlight
Excuse me, sorry, can I just pause the show
Yes ma’am I hear it
Bonapart! Haig! Is that you playing guitar hero?
Sorry lets continue
Please welcome our last act of the night
It’s Tinkerbelle, Jack Daniels, and the puppet theatre cartel
I believe they will be dancing
The tango to hell
So ladies and gentlemen
I trust you had a marvelous time
We are the lunatic café
Come back anytime
© St. K, 2010
