Fly-posting cats on slum walls to promote goodwill between wizards
Today I was asked by the disembodied voice of Lenin to join his workers and foment revolution in Ealing.
This is why you can hear the sounds of the Bolshevik marching song playing in the background.
There were 800 of us, peasants, Stakhanovites, kulaks and cossacks all lumbering heavily along the Muscovite streets towards Аэрофлот who would fly us over to sack the bourgeoisie of west London. Unfortunately all my comrades were drunk on Stolichnaya and singing workers songs – consequently I couldn’t sleep for the whole journey. We arrived at Heathrow – soon to be renamed Trotsky Airport – and began our journey towards the Ealing front.
402 of our number were arrested at customs after they had several vodka bottles removed from rather delicate areas. Now halved, we 398 pressed on towards the Piccadilly Line – soon to be renamed The Karl Marx Memorial Line for the Oppressed Worker – and boarded the tube. However, 327 of my comrades hadn’t changed their Roubles before they came so could not pay for tickets. They were fined £1000 each and arrested.
The remaining 71 of us, boarded the train and marched out at Acton Town – shortly to be called Leningrad Central Station for the Soviet Revolution. We marched on through the streets of Acton and Ealing, singing songs about factories and collective farming. We marched and marched for so long that many men dropped dead from sheer exhaustion along the roads until there were very few of us left.
Eventually we both reached Ealing Town Hall, meaning to raze it to the ground and demand the emancipation of the workers and the control of the means of production to be handed to the proletariat!
However it was closed, so we had to go home.
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bjbeamish
Comrades.
I too tried a similar thing here in Plymouth, I got a brigade of trusty people together in my "Dacha" on the edge of town, read them Marx, Engels and quoted endlessly from Marxist Literature. Together we agreed that the situation of the urban proletariat was hopeless and without an armed insurrection that the fat cats would trample us and force us to be permanently expolited.
However the whole scheme fell apart because the night we were due to march, there I was painting the placards, ready to shake capitalism to it\’s knees, but no-one turned up because it was the final of Big Brither and they\’d all voted. The Bastards.
yours Illych Lenin Trotsky O\’Stalin O\’Stalin
Workers Revolutionary Party
Plymouth Branch
Can I just add my own favourite Radiator is the Ronsom WarmRoom 500 with inbuilt de-lux timer. My favourite Skillet is the Easi-Cook system by Tefal with the added ridges for that authentic barbequed look.
Any takers on the skillet of choice for that perfectly "cooked meat in minutes"?
Don\’t even get me started on the array of electric blankets I have, god the time\’ll fly by.
True – I\’ll only list my favourite skillet here as otherwise I\’ll never get out of bed!
It has to be the PanCo Kwikchef with vulcanised rubber grip handle and teflon coating including solid steel base for even heat flow. This surely is the king of all pans used for light frying and all types of grilling and braising?
Brothers!
I favour the Ra-Ra-Rasputin Dustpan & Diamonte Brush Set, for those honest spills and breakages which inevitably happen when you\’re pushing back the Waffen SS from their entrenched positions under your dining room table ( and fuck me! It took four weeks to get them to retreat from my serving hatch into the dining room ). The Dustpan comes with an 100% guaranteed authentic mahogany finish Rasputin\’s Cock Handle ~ signed by Prince Yusopov.
I\’m off to fry eggs on Lenin\’s Thought Powered Thermal Hot Plate Slappy Slappy Pate. Those yolks will taste polemical!
World Revolution !
…Tomorrow!
Comrade Smith Smithski of Smithigrad.
Comrades in Arms
(and without arms and associated affiliated appendages – we\’ll have no fascist discrimination in this)
This is shaping up to be a mighty fine fermentation of insurrection. Not only will we come to power on the back of the rise of the proletariat we will be able to produce steaks and eggs of the finest order. This is indeed what we want and, yes in a moment of fitful philanthropic benevolence I will donate, nay give, my Ezee-Steam 400 multi layered steamer so that our vegetables and fish may retain their nutrition at 20% above conventional boiling.
your comrade.
Illiych
Workers Revolutionary Party
Plymouth Branch
Comrades comrades!
Let us not be too hasty about collectivising our cullinary accoutrements – we do not want them to fall into the hands of the petit-bourgeoisie. I suggest, as in the finest tradition of Soviet Government, that we hand them over to the Workers Revolutionary Canteen at the Politburo so they can sign them out after having filled out many forms in triplicate and heavy periods of waiting. That way we can encourage the people of this country to start queueing just like in mother Russia!
Comrade Molotov has agreed to donate his cocktail glasses to the Proletarian Revolution and Comrade George Foreman will be in charge of the supply of Victory Grills for the whole of the Workers Revolutionary Party.
Tyдэл пип,
Бpaий
Mmm the soup is lovely.
It\’s so lovely.
Lovely lovely soup.
Soupy soupy soup.
How ironic it is to be in need of salt.
Colonel Smith Smithski
[Disgraced General Secretary of Veronish Prostitute Mine ]
Salt Mine 103
Gulag-upon-sea
Siberia.
Comrade Bri-sky, stopping in to say hello. Thanks for the laughs… I enjoyed the posts. Take care.
Talk to you soon.
Oh, THIS is where the party\’s moved to? I wondered why my rooms have been deader than a dead dodo\’s cloaca. They smaell a bit like one, too; I must open a window and mince about with a bit of Febreze.
Brian, have you recovered from being popped into the pocket of a gigantic man? Personally, I feel I may inadvertently have received accidental electroshock therapy from Sebastian Vittorini and his damned Welsh Coulomb contraption. I am very fuzzy headed but passive and of moderate cheer…
Snap! Crackle! Pop!
J
Worthy Sir,
Would that I knew the whereabouts of this prostitute mine – is it a secret known only to Arthur Scargill perhaps? And if it\’s salt you\’re after, I recommend the Caspian Sea - I hear it\’s quite popular there. Whither soup?
Simon old pheasant,
Awfully nice to see you back again after a rather lengthy sabbatical – hurrah! Splice the mainbrace and burn the peasants! etc. I shall pay you a secret blogue visit anon after which some sort of restraining order might be required.
My dear\’st J,
Thank you I am quite recovered, and attribute the constant birdsong I\’m experiencing to the onset of spring. It was rather shocking was it not? (no pun intended of course) Rather expensive way of having an ECT session, but worth it for the insane scientist and his rather sultry and uniquely pierced assistant.
Those coves at the Cabaret Voltaire have a lot to live up to! That\’s probably why we don\’t hear from them anymore. They\’re not dead, just ashamed to show their faces against such competition…
Bring on the dancing girls!
Toodle pip one and all,
Bri
Errr….NOT uniquely pierced, Brian.
I\’m glad you\’re not sulking. Get ye back down the mines!
J
Fair enough, she wasn\’t that uniquely pierc\’d, but… wait a minute… you don\’t mean you, do you…?
Do you?
Ooh I say.
No wonder you\’re feeling fuzzy headed…
Monsieurs,
I am glad I am not the only one who has misplaced a prostitute, I woke up in the gardens of the Sorbonne once penniless as some duplicitous femme de la rue had replaced my wallet with a sordid feleing of indignity and the unwelcome attentions of the gendarmerie.
Yours
Alfonse Rene Le Grande
Dean of Theology
Sorbonne
I have purchased several purple objects recently. I am not sure why, but everything I seem to be purchasing lately is purple. My terror at this fact is unrivalled.Also, I am transfixed by the following video, and it is not in a homerotic way. I am simply drawn to it… I have had it on repeat for the last 12 hours, laughing insanely:http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5565516993596333865&q=soccer+practiceYours, -Danny
I too find myself transfixed by the video. It\’s nice to see that men can get together in a locker environment and enjoy a good old a good time without society casting aspertions about their sexuality…
..shame about the bumming.
Yours
Quentin Crisps
Deviant sirs,
I have only just recovered from watching that video-ette of what appears to be the England football team engaged in pursuits that were previously only known to persons of the lavender persuasion.
It appears however that Sven\’s tactics are very well thought out, and as long as our 11 chaps are dressed as cheerleaders, and thrusting their appendages in some pretty unmentionable places, we will mince away with the World Cup easily.
Toodle pip,
Roger Gently
my dear brother-in-arms-of-my-third-left-left-leg-front
i have decided it was time to visit you from the place that-imust-not-mention but the marching soundtrack on your ever so green blod induced in me.. a communist spirit that decided it wished to marry the ghost of fidel castro….i think it has now left me and joined your brigand of drunk workers to prostrate or castrate themself before the statue of karl marx…i fail to understand this phenomenon…although i think the latter phenomenon would be good for poor overused and underpaid women ahem "workers" that serviced your men. we shall side step the subject with a hop and a skip.
pls refrain from marching soundtracks as i do not wish to give birth to anymore spirits that wish to elope,get pregnant or shout "all hail to the chinese warlord"
about my little piece of the web…i shall try and update when the next telegraph comes in…in morse code no less!!
yours sincerely
sister-in-distress-fitted-in-a-unspeakable-dress
pixie my tickle…
ps.kindly take your shrimp whiskers from my house…my cat is on the verge of getting an inferiority complex.
eegads the horrendous noise is still there on ym second visit from the land i am visiting…run for your miserable livessssssss!!!
Luckily, I can hear no marching, since Fungus the bogey man has FINALLY lived up to his name, and filled my ears with bogeys. However, maybe you should put a different song on anyway, to ease this person\’s plight. Perhaps a nice spanish flamenco guitar, or a chinese waltz. I don\’t know… Maybe I could fart into a tube and record it for you. tha would be great. My fart on repeat for hours and hours and hours… yes… I will do it. BWAHAHAHAHAHHAH! *cough* Sorry, I need to go and calm myself.Yours,-Danny