Well, I decided to change the look of the site a little bit, to give it a bit of a facelift.  What do you think?  I think it looks quite bright and refreshing!

Also, got a new camera this week – Canon EOS 550D.  It’s a digital SLR that takes absolutely stunning HD video.  I’ll be testing it out on a few projects, so stay tuned.  I’ll also be adding a “Photos” section soon to show off some pics I take.  Yet another stage of me taking over the world, one hobby at a time.

I have another poem for you – it’s very long, disgusting, and hopefully funny!  Bad language starts now!

Out shopping with the family
My feet are tired and sore
Non-stop arsing and fucking about
Going from store to store

Ancient bastards everywhere
The shuffling of coffin-dodgers
It’s like a scene from “Dawn of the Dead”
Watching these silly old codgers.

The children aren’t much better
Screaming round the place
“Mummy, daddy, I want this!”
They’ll get a slap around the face.

Suddenly, without alarm,
I feel an almighty need.
My colon’s going apeshit,
To the toilet stalls I speed.

As I rush past all the wankers,
The bastards and the dicks,
I notice a mile-long queue
Outside the shitters of the chicks.

I hope the gents isn’t busy,
Cos this payload’s on its way.
My sphincter’s getting sweaty
Keeping this behemoth crap at bay.

My pace has had to quicker
But my sanctuary’s almost here
“Get the fuck out of my fucking road!”
I shout to a dipshit loitering near.

I make it to the toilets
Oh balls! No traps are free!
Just my luck, there’s a urinal,
If only I needed to pee.

A flash of inspiration!
A moment of kismet!
Something rather evil,
But I’m busting for a shet.

I’ll use the disabled toilet
I know it’s just not right,
But where else could I drop this
Absolute whopper of a shite?

I understand it’s frowned upon,
But I really need to go!
My legs are getting restless
And my bowel’s about to blow.

I drag my sorry keishter
And lock the door behind,                
Drop my anxious trolleys
And hope the world is kind.

Please don’t be too sloppy,
Please don’t be too sore,
I’ve only got my chap stick
I won’t apply it there no more.

There’s a torpedo in the firing bay,
Put the horse before the cart.
I give a little squeeze of my cheeks
Out pops a warning fart.

The train has left the station,
The lander’s on the moon,
It’s time for the doors to open
Not a minute too soon.

Fuck me, it feels like childbirth
This bastard wants a fight!
My face is getting redder
And my legs are turning white.

I think I’m through the worst of it
I’ve passed a stone of mud.
I look down in horror and happiness,
Oh good, no signs of blood.

I’m glad all that is over,
It’s time to finish off.
One more push for feeling
A splutter and a cough.

Holy shit, that’s rotten
Did that come out of me?
I need some spray, deodorant,
Or at least a Magic Tree.

Time to wipe my ringpiece
Oh shit, oh fuck, oh piss!
I’m such a fucking arsehole
I can’t fucking believe this!

I should have checked for paper
Before I sat my fat ass down
I’m wearing khaki combats
Which may be destined to be brown.

There’s nothing I could even use
No scrap, no piece, no leaf
I’m stuck here in the crapper
With no signs of wipe relief.

Oh wait, I have my mobile!
I could phone the wife!
She could buy some shitewipe,
Deliver and save my life.

This would become a funny story,
To tell our friends en masse,
A tale of toilet humour
With whimsy and with crass.

I unholster my telephone
I hold it with one hand
I search for the missus’ number
I press the call button and….

I hear the sound I really hate
I call Three Pips of Doom
It means I have no signal
In this fluorescent room.

I curse the networks up and down
For not letting my call get through
The steel, the concrete, the wiring,
And possibly, my poo.

I glance over at the tiny sink,
Cripes, I’m really stinking.
It may be an inanimate object,
But it knows just what I’m thinking.

I start to shuffle over
Like a penguin on the ice
I turn on the tap with my left hand,
With my right, do owt un-nice.

Ten minutes pass and I return to shop
Looking for the ball and chain
Unable to look at properly
My right hand ever again.

Oh no, I’ve spotted someone
I haven’t seen in a while
I hope he hasn’t seen me,
I try to run a mile.

Too late, he’s turned to face me
I curse and smile as our eyes meet
He saunters over towards me
For this inevitable greet.

It’s like my world went slo-mo
As he gives my hand a squeeze.
He chats away obliviously
I feel a little queaze.

We chat for what feels like ages,
He doesn’t loosen that grip.
I regret accepting
My place on this shopping trip.

He says his goodbyes to me,
We part our ways at last
I leave before he sniffs his hand
I’m out of there quite fast.

I’m feeling rather guilty
Of that there is no doubt.
It’s only a matter of time
Before he finds me out.

He’ll think I’m so disgusting,
A dirty faecal freak
Who spends their day in the khazi,
Rummaging in keek.

I’m starting to remember,
I wasn’t fond of that there guy.
I know we used to work together,
I hate him, but can’t think why?

 Oh yes, there was that one time
Way back in the parking lot.
He smashed his car door against mine
Said nothing of it, not a jot.

 Took me ages to get that scrape out,
To hide the evidence of that shunt,
So now his hand smells rightly of my shit,
He deserves dysentery, the bad man.