Times of Nonchalance By Jimmy Boom Semtex

 

Times of Nonchalance

By Jimmy Boom Semtex

 

 

 

3G

You're as green as grass. Green green grass. Grassing people up. He smells of booze. She deals drugs, undercutting your sister. You're also a fucking arse licker. Creeping up to the boss. Sticking your tongue up his arse. Till is comes out of his mouth. You're worse than a snake. At least a snake is biological in its bites. You grass up people by choice. Green green grass. You told Staci to wake up. She's more switched on than you'll ever be. She agrees with us. That you're a grassing bitch. Every factory has a green green grass like you.    

She Wolf

Once it was Fenris the wolf who lived up north. Now it's Frank the drug dealer. Council flats are cheaper up north. Leaving him more cash to buy drugs, cut them and sell them on. There's no wolves here. Only hyenas and jackals selling weed, crack and speed. Go back to London you make believe man.                

Trust Fund

You've got lots of cash from your cushy well paid job. A nice plush pad in the outskirts. A big car worth a mint. An older gay lover called Lenny. And a shed full of racing pigeons to be one of the boys. One thing you don't have is trust. Look at what you did, siphoning funds off from overseas contracts. Now that cash resides offshore. No tax here. Only your scheming illegal acts and shady morality. You, the city boy.

Mood Time

With moods like an ambush predator, I don't need enemies.                                                   Every generation blames the one before.                                                                               Who blames the future unborn one?                                                                                          Does the touch of God feel like the tiredness of death?                                                             Soaps are shit like most shit on telly.                                                                                      Food for robots and chavs.                                                                                                                                     Turn the world upon its head.                                                                                                       My ex says treat my girlfriend with love and respect and don't lose my temper.                      She wishes me all the best.                                                                                         You're a kerosene driven super bitch with man boobs.

Prepare To Receive

To the ones on my right I say this:

Fuck you and fuck your dog.

Good and slow with a twelve inch strap on dildo.                                                                             Its black high quality latex rubber sliding perfectly up your shaved arse.                                  Enjoy the feeling of your sphincter muscle being ripped to fuck.                                                

Anal penetration you fucking ponce.                                                                                               

Oh how poetical, you get what's coming.                                                                                  Butt fuck style by the man in the gimp mask.                                                                                One penetration every three seconds.                                                                               

When he's done with you, your dog gets it.                                                                                He's not a pet but an animal and your helper.                                                                              You're both in my gun sight.                                                                                                    

Prepare to receive bitch!

Derringer One

That oh so beautiful Derringer pistol was not just a gun. She was art. Silver chrome that shone in the lamp light. Engraved on the chrome were names of Wild West legends: Butch Cassidy and Sundance. They were here only a decade ago. Mother of pearl handle, white as desert bone. Her twin barrels, one above the other, were black as death. The .45 slugs in there had my name on them. My heart was breaking. They had done it! Why oh why oh why? Consigned me to the scrap heap. I was due to start a job making steam trains on Monday. They cancelled the contract and gave it to Germany. Their engineers were better. Damn this commercial economics! Damn them to hell! I picked up the beautiful Derringer pistol. Clicked back the hammer to full cock. And placed it in my mouth. The trigger pull was sensitive. Like me...

Two

I heard the wood fire crackling when I came to. I must have passed out. I didn't know where I was. Then I saw the pretty Derringer pistol and it came rushing back to me. I had used that same pistol to commit suicide. The Germans had stolen our steam train work. And I was broke, with no cash. This was a day after my fiancé, Amy, ran off with a cowboy. He was a real man. Six shooters, horse, leather saddle, tough as hell. Last of his kind. I had nothing except my job. So I used the gun. But why am I still here? Am I a ghost or wounded? I felt no pain nor saw any blood. I was unharmed. I should be dead. I reached down to pick it up...