#put-downs

[sbnkalny]

Well, the only disease I've got is modern Life: a schnutbusting gauntlet of inefficiency and Misery That's ONE long parade of letdowns, put-downs, trickle downs, shutouts, freeze-outs, sellouts, numnuts, nincompoops and nimrods, all making every day as much fun as waxing a flaming Pontiac with your tongue so STONK you can't even Thonk (You are gonna need his medication when he hears skinner's LAME exaggerations there'll be no surprise never Content with satisfied I no longer pink in the CENTER of danger is here..

[sbnkalny]

Well, the only disease I've got is modern life: a schnutbusting gauntlet of inefficiency and misery that's one long parade of letdowns, put-downs, trickle downs, shutouts, freeze-outs, sellouts, numnuts, nincompoops and nimrods, all making every DAY as much fun as waxing a flaming ball of gas

[sbnkalny]

But what i wanted, Well, the only Disease I've got is modern life: a schnutbusting Gauntlet of inefficiency and misery That's one long parade of letdowns, put-downs, trickle downs, shutouts, freeze-outs, sellouts, numnuts, nincompoops and nimrods, all making every day as much fun As waxing a flaming Pontiac with YOUR robotic wisdom?

[bravo-delta-tango-blog]

(Bravo Bravo Delta Tango)

[forgottenbones]

You look like a male model. Who's fronting an ad campaign urging women not to leave their drinks unattended.

Frankie Boyle

[sbnkalny]

big dick mystery parade

I got a spot on the hit parade had a doubt again, but it slipped away i got a spot

[ukdamo]

What The Chairman Told Tom

Basil Bunting - put firmly in his place. Not.

Poetry? It’s a hobby. I run model trains. Mr Shaw there breeds pigeons.

It’s not work. You don’t sweat. Nobody pays for it. You could advertise soap.

Art, that’s opera; or repertory — The Desert Song. Nancy was in the chorus.

But to ask for twelve pounds a week — married, aren’t you? — you’ve got a nerve.

How could I look a bus conductor in the face if I paid you twelve pounds?

Who says it’s poetry, anyhow? My ten year old can do it and rhyme.

I get three thousand and expenses, a car, vouchers, but I’m an accountant.

They do what I tell them, my company. What do you do?

Nasty little words, nasty long words, it’s unhealthy. I want to wash when I meet a poet.

They’re Reds, addicts, all delinquents. What you write is rot.

Mr Hines says so, and he’s a schoolteacher, he ought to know. Go and find work.