Archives of Pain

I wonder who you think you are
You damn well think you're God or something
God give life, God taketh it away, not you
I think you are the devil itself

Quote by: Mother of victim of Peter Sutcliffe

Monday, 23 November 2009

A Typical Saturday Night For Jimmy Jenkins

Pour me a pint of you're finest amber, mass-produced piss poison.
A large glass of red and a vintage whiskey
Four long shots, kick de bucket

This establishment is littered with hard livers, with hard livers.
Here even the poets, musicians, authors, and romantics are shrunken to drunken louts.

The dimwit enters with a shark on a lead,
The master is canine. Loyal as fuck, thick as shit
The whore on his arm is over 6ft tall.
Due to the six inch heels that'd crush your balls.

Out in the car park Jimmy J is surrounded by a carnival of wolves.
All wanting to dance and howl in the pale moonlight.
He raises his fists and tries to scare the animals off.
But, these beasts are riot starters, twisted riot starters.
Slapped by a Grizzly! Sacked by a Weasel!

As JJ arrives home battered black and blue,
He takes out a magic marker and goes dot-to-dot from cigarette burn, to cigarette burn.
He falls into a deep slumber.

All in the spirit of a typical Saturday night for Jimmy Jenkins


  1. Excellent stuff. Love the internal rhyme of "shrunken to drunken louts" and the repetition of "hardened livers" - I interpreted it as livers the organ, then livers as in those who live. Really effective.
    Also really like the imagery of joining up the cigarette burns with a permenant marker.