Keyboard Warrior

Keyboard warrior,

On the plains of the Internet.

Stride forth, brave soul.

Keyboard warrior,

With a pain that you can't forget.

Your words shine like gold.

Take my handle

Guide me by the light of your candle

Through the darkest thread

I follow The Warrior's tread.

Keyboard Warrior!
Figure with a thousand names.

Keyboard Warrior!
Walking through the flames.

Keyboard Warrior!
Is born and dies every day.

Keyboard Warrior!
Your belief will fly you far away!

Keyboard warrior

Protects the innocent:
You are my shield.
Keyboard warror,

Your ultimatum has been sent,

and the foe gallops through the field.

Don your mail

Give them hell!
And with every post

You strike at the heart of the host.

Keyboard Warrior!
Figure with a thousand names.

Keyboard Warrior!
Walking through the flames.

Keyboard Warrior!
Is born and dies every day.

Keyboard Warrior!
Your belief will fly you far away!

And if my soul

Should fall beside you

Will you find someone to blame?
But if my soul

Should fall within you

Will you spread word of my shame?
Of my sordid name?

Well, take aim:
The foe comes to maim!

Keyboard Warrior!
Figure with a thousand names.

Keyboard Warrior!
Walking through the flames.

Keyboard Warrior!
Is born and dies every day.

Keyboard Warrior!
Your belief will fly you far away!

A Ballad For Clunge

Oh ladies, why won't you show me,
Show me, oh why why why why!
Perhaps a ballad could persuade your kind,
And my voice; warm, Scottish, and niiiiice.

Lady, I'm highly desirable;
I'm clean-shaven and tall,
I sing for you with all I'm able
It is for you that I bawl.

Lady, I write what is true:
I am no fan of grunge.
I sing about something close to you, yes,
All my songs are about clunge.

So why won't you show me,
Show me, oh me,
Show me your clunge later on.
Show me your clunge, show me your clunge,
So I may eat it like a blancmange.

Lady, I'm a poet; deeply serious,
Unlike those of dubious merit,
You can tell by my carefully chosen rhymes, plus,
the style of my beret.

Lady, I'm a singer/songwriter,
And so I must spray you with cum,
Doing so oils my faculties,
Just like lube in your bum.

So why won't you show me,
Show me, why me,
Why me, show me, why why why why?
Clunge, show me clunge,
Clunge clunge clunge clunge.
Why won't you show me your clunge
Lady, why?

Utter Lack Of Gall

I am writing to inform you, cur,

of your utter lack of gall;
your deficiency of stoic grit,
and your flaccid, whiny pall.
Your tendency to give a shit
over inconsequential news
stirs within me acute need
to vomit on your shoes.

I'm writing to inform you, prick,
of the prevalent view
that knowing you is to have a tumour
not easily removed.
But I cut off that growing rumour,
for it's a bombastic aggravation.
You lack the gravity of cancer;
you're more like constipation.

You're repugnant and you're petulant:
your infantile will supine and torpid;
I'd fight, but you're more page than knight,
more jellyfish than spine.

I know you are possessive,
and so I hope this missive possesses you to hiss.
Never yours, yet sincere always,
I am Moray Jaundice.

On Horrible People

Friendship groups are in constant threat of destruction by utterly terrible motherfuckers. These specimens are invariably interesting and complicated people. They may be charismatic; they may be handsome; they may just be doggedly determined. A horrid person can't be defined in generic terms. Everyone – evil, fucked-up bitches included – has their own eccentricities. But bilious, walking-mind-fucks conform to a general pattern when invading the company of others, and there are some specific strategies that friends use to remove their poisonous, faecal presence.

The horrible person will mould the social structure of your group to better achieve their aims.  A core aim of a bastard is to cement their place within the group. The fucker needs to create dependence amongst the group members on their own continued membership of the group. With drugs, this is achieved through their connections to the underworld. The friends need them – and will be very obliging to see that they remain a part of the collective, in spite of their assholery. There are other ways of achieving this power: sex is a classic; money is another; someone influential in the local art scene is in a niche position, but it can suffice for being a complete asshat.

Smaller groups are easier to manipulate (we're dealing with local shit-heads, not Rupert Murdoch). People might realise that their new pal is a total douchebag. Evil misanthropes will address this problem by sewing discord. A common misconception is that discord will blind the victims to the evils of the perpetrator. Not so: being a known arsehole spreads more discord than being an unknown arsehole. No-one will be able to prevent the cunt from being a chronic shite-lord, because they have no choice but to react to the awful milieu.

Discord is created by bruising and breaking existing ties of affection. The smeg-bearer need not invoke a clandestine strategy. A common approach is that the parasite will refuse to socialise with one particular individual. Such an action causes an immediate schism. People will be forced to evaluate their loyalties. The arse will prefer to test close bonds: siblings and lovers are favourites. Wrecking close relationships affects an amplification of tension within the group: other people are upset to witness good relationships turn to shit.

These rackets mirror human interactions conducted in good faith: we all have small groups of friends, and we do prefer the company of some people to others. The important difference is that the black-hole-of-a-person we are dealing with has no concern for genuine participation: ideally, they want only to achieve their narrow goals.

Horrible people always inhabit a web of co-manipulation. They will introduce you to others. It is difficult to know your position within this scheme. The highly intelligent wanker is dangerous in this respect, for they will place their sluggish brethren tactically. This is the general method by which one becomes acquainted with people who are both dim and awful, for they otherwise won't find you. Horrid people who are slow on the uptake can ruin otherwise good company, merely by the unpleasant state of themselves. These people are exemplified by diazepam addicts who slur and cannot think.

Nasty personages can be identified by conversing with those whom you still trust. Manipulative cocks will be discovered in this manner, because they will impart different untruths to different people. But even a blatant pile-of-discharge must be identified in this socially forensic manner, because your friends may not be as brave (or sober) as you are.

Once a complete cunt has been identified, an intervention will inevitably occur. The friends may present a combined front to the offending gobshite. Formally announcing this new-found solidarity to the fucker can be an effective tactic: they will realise the game is up. Crucially, there will be a rule that no-one may speak to the turd. This is more difficult for drug-users, for everyone will most likely attend the same dealer's flat.

The strategy of rejection is not effective when facing an evil, psychopathic, bitch. The peril is that he will not be driven off, and will instead turn up at your place of work and cause a scene. A friendship group can deal with such demented freaks by denying them information. The unbalanced abuser will be unable to show up at your child's nursery, because they do not know where it is. This is difficult to implement, because of others known to both the friendship group and to the awful banshee. If the bastard is crazed enough, the friends may be able to convince third parties of the soundness of the plan, as the third party will know all about the craziness. However, if the third party is an arsehole themselves, this will fail. The friends may be forced to excommunicate a large number of people. Always remember that such people may have a genuine medical problem.

As information about everything becomes easier to access, absolutely fucking squamous people will become an increasing hazard everywhere. The core defence against these total cunts is to love your real friends with dearness and devotion, and to rejoice in the unity and trust that you've nurtured together without having all those bastards around.

Flattery

This is a song I wrote a while ago.  Should be recording it soon with my band.  Hooray!  It's malicious because it is written about several people, blurred together to hide their identities.

I don't want to seduce you
I want to play in your band.
One moment of intense emotion,
I literally fucked up the chance.

Her tattoo is a gift,
I am flattered by it.
Inked on some maddened night.
Our relationship is
meaningless and shit,
wrecked by being fucked all the time.

There is art beneath her skin
I think I'm inside.
Now you won't be friends or kiss
You just want fucked in the mind.

I am a cliché:
I realised I'm gay;
I'm tortured and tall and stuff.
Please distract me,
as much pain as you please.
Please could you destroy my trust?

I like someone warped.
Getting kicks from licking a corpse.
You lovely people
are so happy yeah
You are so beautiful
You aren't my type
You are so lovely
You tasted so good that night