Algy Moncrieff

Bitwin de taim in wich de fuèrz of de infiern inùndez de yùnivers and de augg of the hijs of Marxs & Espenzer dere was an époc of òscurez ansòñez of. Intu dis caim Jorj, destinez tu bicàm kingg of der Little Quicius apon a conflìctif rag. It is My Ass, his croniquer, ju can nau long tel yu of his saga. Let me tel yu of dous deis of Haig Advèntur.

Der jonor demàndez de mèjor aut of Jorj and ji obèdeceiz

Der dèber reqèreiz it and ji acàtez it

Wiz his sànger de glory alcàncez

Wiz his scuerely braz jis nàcion redìmez

Ji was granz bicós ji wos mor ènferm in de ass

And jis jed wos larger and his fury mor tèrribol

Jis ènemigs caguez and deir òjals wer

Ensànchez wiz jis bácul of Mórgul

Der Pawer of de Tuailait descèndez tu jim

To anìqileit de ords from de Òrtic lands

And to fornicait wiz de vìrginal princéseses

Ji dident wont tu surrender in de nait

Ji dident penetreit oder ideology

Ji dident wont to lif laik an inférior

Ìven tuday it is remèmbreiz jis místical Tènsion in de taims of de prìncipeiz. A lot of jirous daiz in an ìntent tu emuleit jis "watan asc I fil in the cìmbrel" pawer, and oders alcàncez glory. Bat iven dou wi jaf der Soul River Falo Star and der Diegg of de Burgs and der Mìnister of Vèrdur, wi still recònoceiz Gorgeus Jorj as the prìmer jirou of der Gallach.

In the dèspues of the prìmer ode in Gallach, a lot of enciclòpedists haf levantez deir voz in the ass aguenst the pùrez of the lenwich. It is important (in the ass) that we haf very present that Gallach is the natural lenwich of the pipol (por el culo) and it needs an evolusion from the primitif weys. In the Èspañol ther is a "Càntar of the Cid of me", in the Grieg ther is a "Ìlieid and a Òdisei", so dou you cant belif it in the jawer this is the japen.

I shal quemeit all of you bifor you come from the àfuers of the Impery, beyond the border, with your anàlfabet cùlchur to tell me how is the chopet of the Gallach. The power only the mistical tènsion out of Jorj is eibol to igualeit will fol aguesnt you enciclòpedists. You know ju you are: Marcs (also knoun as "and Spencer" and "ther sènsei of the ninya tortugs"), Dieg (also colez "the Melenas" and "the master of the infiern") and Felixander (to whom they haf coled "Felixsander-bitch", "Falax Star", "Falo Star", and "Soul River").

POSTDEIT: I am not an ènferm!!!

Oh you gorgeus Jorj!

Dont fulminate me wiz your scuerelly braz

You that aamong the tènsion live

It is a jonor and meiks me feel vergüenz

to pronauns your neim in the ass

Oh Lord of the Little Quicius

Anforgetebol times I guarz

Under the shadow of your glamorous feis

You are the minig of all metafors

And the summoner of the fuerz

From the infiern

You remein calm biniz the tenteision of the berz

I remember you in the midel of the wata càlor

Sincerebely Jorj's

    Tras un exhaustivo estudio parece ser que “Coño!” es el taco que de forma más natural espetamos en una situación de sorpresa y por encima de otros no menos tradicionales, se podría considerar el juramento más popular de nuestra amada lengua española.

    Dicho esto y sin más preámbulos quiero confesar algo que probablemente haya dicho con anterioridad pero como comprenderéis he olvidado a quién se lo dije en concreto:

“Mi blog no es un diario, ni un espacio para la reflexión ni mucho menos un enclave literario en ese lugar adimensional que llamamos ciberespacio. Es sólo una excusa para que podáis ver mi foto cuando queráis.”

Post Data: Espero que no os toquéis, y si lo hacéis, por favor no me lo contéis.

"I don't wanna grow up coz daddy says all women are a bunch of sluts". The little girl glared at me and I saw that familiar frenzied feeling boiling in her sapphire eyes. Experience made me chuckle with the idea of seeing her grow up and realize the emotive palette live becomes. Like good old Truman Capote said, there always comes a time in which you gaze impudently at someone as a chance to "draw those first pure strokes that are free."

What would it be to stand in front of her throbbing flush! That one that hurls upon you unexpectedly. I've been protagonist of it in such occasions! My pure innocent little girl, how can a disgraceful hood like I be so attached to you. I've grown so accustomed to your neighbour hug. I guess you are at the best age for a man to be considered by you. One day you'll grow up and scream out loud that we the boys are all bullshit. And yes, swollen throated guys will shout that you are a fucking bitch every time they swallow a pair of glasses of whisky.

Sad as it is, we climb from those old days in which they talked about weary young girls, and just a little tenderness was a pill to be taken as infallible. If you wanna learn something from this tramp, come here and keep on asking me about those fairy tales that still can make you smile while you are a girl. You'll have time to loose yourself drifted to those shores of infatuation your age is going to throw you to. And don't pay attention to those bitter arguments. ‘Cause I'll tell you what! The most beautiful thing that ever vanished from the hold of my arms was a woman. And those flashing events are worth a tear or two. For my darling, like this smooth Amos Lee song is playing right now, "nothing is more powerful than beauty in a wicked world".

La tiniebla está encerrada

en esa media luz donde su nombre no ha llegado

ni se ha oído su voz, ni se sabe que ella existe.

En esa oscuridad donde mi soledad no la recuerda

la amo como a un sueño que no vive.

“Todos los días miro al mar y lloro”

Me dijo el pescador con el ocaso de la marea

conmigo a su lado entibiado por las olas

Allí adonde huyo, ella es como Dios

Un dolor demasiado  profundo y real

para alguien tan ausente

I saw that strange little fellow coming inside the gift store in the corner of the commercial street. I was already in, looking for some kind of African ceremonial mask or whatever for my mom’s birthday. Anyway, the thing is that he crossed the place, went in front of the seller and said: “I would like to purchase a little bit of sense of humor to lower the pressure in the tough times.”

“Eeee. We don’t have any of that.” “Oh, I see.” “Yeah. Look! Why don’t you go to the store at the other end of the street? They probably have something of that.” “Oh, really? Thanks! I guess I’ll go. Thanks, Bye.” It was half past eight but when the guy saw me leaving his store five minutes after the strange man did it, he shut the door and closed the business. There are mad people dangling out there, you just can’t be safe in your own home town! It’s a mess! A very popular Spanish journalist always says that in this country we should do like the American, and be able to buy fire weapons to defend our homes and families from this kind of people.

The street lights dazzle me, tearing the dark canvas of the polluted sky of the night. Why would someone ever want to tie himself up with a rope of affection? But if you ask you’d find out that a lot of people would want to, despite of the lies. They prefer that bare emotion you can deal with, empty and abandoned like an old and dark southern parlour. What about the spider in the corner, weaving it’s web, reminding there’s a discordant point. Who cares about it’s life? It’s blown away before we even notice.

               I remember the day when I heard about the real purpose of the penis. I could say that I already knew it and I wouldn’t lie, but it was a tremendous shock anyway. It’s like the difference between hearing from your school partners that Santa Claus doesn’t exist, and watching how your dad leaves the presents beneath the Christmas tree and drinks the wine that was supposed to be for the red fat guy.

            We always thought that when we stiff upper lip, what we are doing is acting in a phlegmatic way, but that’s completely nonsense. I mean, I can’t even catch a metaphoric similarity between being phlegmatic and stiffing the upper lip. The upper lip? What in the hell! To me, the real meaning of the phrase is to suck a dick with fear. Let me explain:

            Have you ever had your cock sucked by a first-timer? She’s not usually confident, like if she was afraid of getting surprised by your sperm coming suddenly out of your dick. Therefore as an instinctive reaction, she stiffs her upper lip. Maybe both sometimes, and the experience is interesting only because of the tenderness of her innocence. And there you’ve got the real meaning of the expression “stiff upper lip”.

            So if you don’t wanna be left behind like a piece of a shit you should carefully learn the advice. If you ever see the bushes shaking out there don’t get nearby. There are people that suddenly become unable to move, like if a huge cramp retained their bodies. And you know what? It sometimes squirts. Buaaaag!

            That’s the point by an old pal, for words are among everything, only a bunch of letters. By the way, if you ever hear about a huddle in the park, call me. Just for scientific interest.

            Little Terwilligan’s life started in the narrow corridor where he was conceived in the middle of a dirty passion rush. That’s the way children came to the world not long ago, before the 30 square metre flats and the 60 years mortgage payments appeared. Terwilligan was one of the last to be born as a result of a common fornication, in the heart of a loving family.

            He grew up working hard to support a whole family that survived relying on him, so there was very little time left for himself. Everything turned into something horrible, when their home was occupied by hordes of trolls and other creatures of the murk. From then on, intrepid Terwilligan’s fate became raising the babies of those disgusting invaders.  Finally, his family managed to escape somehow.

            In his lifetime runaway he found consolation shaking the hip like his idol: Elvis Presley. Therefore, young Terwilligan swore that he would reach glory to end up dying as a middle aged fat man, alone and struggling against barbiturics. Well, at least as far as destiny allowed it.

            All his life changed dramaticly forever when he fell down the roof of his mental insane neighbor. He woke up in his backyard and right in front of him, he found a seven leaf clover. “Fucking great” –he thought- “A prime number”. But he was just seeing double because of the shock, and he soon realized it was in fact, a three and a half leaf clover. As he started discovering all of the weeds and mushrooms in his garden, he thought that his neighbor was really cool, and that teenage was not that bad.

            One misty day, when his thirsty garden dried, dreaming for the rain (metaphor), he started searching for something else and he found Tennessee whiskey. That liquor made him finally realize that his life hadn’t been the fantastic voyage he had believed. He had never been king, and he had not travelled far, into the lands past the edge of the wild, to fight against the evil goblins. He had been nothing but a nerd, a fucking moron, short, ugly and big-eared, and even more: selfish. Because of his blinded mind he had forgotten the straight path his life was supposed to follow.

            In order to give a new sense to his existence, he decided to recover his old dream of becoming a cool guy and massive idol and finish dying young. Searching for answers, he stared at the stars and his prayers were listened.

            Little Terwilligan, already a man, understood that he had to walk a long time before getting to know which was the way and where was the path. He had to stop thinking about the pleasures of the destination town, to enjoy the trip. Because nobody knows what will happen just around the bend. We might reach the top of a hill and watch the horizon with other eyes. Up there, something might captivate us and make us leave the way to run across the open fields forgetting about the fate, just seeking for a faraway candle burning as a distant light.

            One night, when he stood up surrounded by the wilderness, he saw it. The most amazing dream, the most marvellous and remote one he had ever imagined. Right now, somewhere in this universe is Terwilligan, staring at that melancholic star, sparkling weakly in the dark blue above. He’s thinking what would it be to burn in its soul.  

             Postscript: Don’t tell your mamma about the drugs and all the stuff.