Sunday, 23 January 2011

The Contents of a Tabloid Newspaper

I was once so addicted to morphine,
That I tried to chew off my own chin.
I had surgery to fix my third bum cheek.
I was born with a tail and a fin.
I was held hostage in seventeen bank heists.
I once killed and ate a giraffe.
I foiled a bomb plot with tampons.
I could die every time that I laugh.
I wear women's clothes in the day time,
But a full badger suit after hours.
I've slept with my sister and all three of my dads.
I have an odd urge to eat purple flowers.
My nan is a call girl, my uncle's in jail.
I found a human toe in my pea soup.
I started a cult that worships baked beans.
I'm the only one in my blood group.
I was kidnapped by twelve nesting mute swans.
My knees hold secrets of national import.
I've made this all up for the fifty quid fee.
Enough current affairs, here's the sport.

3 comments:

  1. So like, yeah, I'm coming back here for more next Sunday when your (gulp) first writers circle submission goes online. But really, what need have you to be nervous when this here is so so good?

    I implore you to do a sport version of this. you could come up with a books worth just by focusing on Wayne Rooney alone!

    Please say that these were inspired by real news articles. Please!

    Any negative comments from me? No. But here's a lil constructive critique: journo's are paid far, far more to come up with even less fantastical fare ;)

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  2. Hi John, thanks for your comments, you're very sweet.
    You've showed up my lack of knowledge of Fleet Street! But really, the 'fifty quid' was mostly placed to fit in the with the metre. (She says, as if there's a strong metre in this piece at all!)
    Thank you very much for stopping by :)

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  3. Not a worry. Follow me if you like, but there is nothing up until the 30th of course. Hoped you enjoyed Spiderfingers and his shenanigans with the noise in his head. Being him is a tough life indeed.

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