Being Normal Is Boring - Broken Aeroplanes, Screwed People, Alternative Writing,:) Jimmy Boom Semtex

Thai By

This place gets under your skin. Slowly creeping in like black Texas gold. I said I'd never partake in the cat house girls. Seeing them each day for eighteen months was routine. Walking past the 'venues' to my shop. Usual hi's and hello's.

Then one fine humid day, bang! It happened. I changed. Cabin fever? I walked into Suzi's Place. I put my cash on the counter and fucked the mamasan first. Then her two daughters followed by every other girl in there. It took thirteen hours.

I totalled twenty eight girls. Most were nice. I can't tell my wife. My mate could, his wife's cool. Mine isn't. I'll say I was busy inking from dawn to dusk. I'm not sure what came over me. The Thai air got under my skin. That day tattooing could wait.

Maybe I'll do it again. Invite my wife and her toy boy. Did I say that people are strange here? I fit in well...

He Changed

He wanted to be nice to people. That included everybody: his younger gay lover, his black neighbour, his Asian sister, his disabled boss and anyone else he came into contact with. His words were often cutting and to the point. They could make others cry. Or fight.

When he punched it was lethal, no bullet needed. Why then did he feel the need to change? Did fifty long years of being a cunt bug his conscience? Or was it what he saw that day? He needed some milk but was almost too lazy to go. Harsh black coffee persuaded him.

It was while at the market he saw it, the shooting. A man, he could have been anybody, had his fucking head blown off. The shooter approached from behind and fired. That wasthat. A man dead, half his brains on the ground and everyone screaming.

Our moody bad tempered man was silent; he said nothing. But his eyes saw everything. In his mind, he changed. No more harsh words. Guilt sprouted forth on every insult and slight that he'd ever done. He returned home and made his milky coffee.

And said to himself, I'm going to change. I'm not going to be nasty or bad tempered or a cunt with people. I'll start with my lover, then my neighbours and finally, everyone else. I can be a nice person. Then he called the cops and said he'd do a witness statement on what he'd seen.

He wanted to bring a killer to justice. A man had died but another had been reborn. It's never too late to change.

Witch Bitch

The witch stopped talking to him over a row with his brother. That was odd because his bro was dead. He wasn't psychic. But the witch was. Was something going on? Was it possible for a mortal and a spirit to have a relationship? And he didn't mean vodka.It appeared so.

He deleted her off the housing estate. An IRA car bomb took care of her. And six other houses and the nearby supermarket. But it wasn't the end. It was the beginning! The bitch returned to haunt him, along with his dead brother. He was both psychic and psycho now.

He did them a favour and committed suicide. Swallowing a shotgun barrel.Now I'm fucking dead, I'll bloody fix you two! And he meant it; he never lied. He was part Russian.

Walker

I walk these streets at night.

Prisoner to my insomnia.

What events and drama occurred here?

At this very spot.

Who fought, frowned and fucked.

I'm hours too late.

I sense the energy of the incidents.

Maybe I'll make my own events this night.

Come and join me.