Scumweb Ballyhoo Assessment Datum
I heard the Tory candidate is going to make dancing illegal. I'm not saying it's true but it is what I heard, on the street, from what I spose is called, although I'm by no means a journalist, my own mouth. At the party junction, while everyone else sauntered through the cavalcades and played trans-tarmac catch with their babies in the gaps between cornering juggernauts, we turned to each other and nodded and she said what about this election then, are you voting for common sense or me-first? And I said I don't know and it's never that simple but have you heard... and I told her about the dancing ban and it was no surprise to either of us. What sort of world are we living in, she asked, where this can be the sort of thing you hear on the street, just on the bollocking bastard street from some slime-faced chancer with no sign of a death wish? And I said I don't know, the trouble is I've never been able to sum anything up... well, the trouble's much bigger than that but that's one of the most troubling things within it. I can't even sum up the weekly shop. I don't even do it weekly and could this be where I'm going wrong? And she shrugged, and I took that as an answer.
Labels:
ban,
lies,
rectangles