Gangsters. What are they for? Some say the gangster is a little man that lives in your coal bunker; others insist he a delinquent of the humanoid kind, forever twinkling. Well I’ve never met one so I couldn’t tell you the truth. Graphs show that things are changing, like this little one here that I drew (you can’t see it, it’s in my pocket). The machines are a rumblimbling and the folks they are a rambling with straw hats hay in the mouth and a drawn out feg. I haven’t worn lipstick in quite a while, but if you were to put me in a certain situation whereby the only way out was to fill the carpet with bicarbonate of soda and hoover the whole house I very well might do the opposite.

Now here look I’ve a question for ye. What makes a man moo. Who’s pullin’ the strings here? Is it them boys up in Stormont who pretend not even to be there, or could it be them other boys in the street playin bangbang? I’ve got a dog now and now everything smells like dog the bed smells like dog my hands smell like dog all ma clothes are dirty and there’s a baby on the way. Fuckin dogs. Used to have a cat but I hadda loan it out, country cat town cat wasn’t no city slick gangster cats scared it away and now the dog reigns supreme. Mike Tyson used to have a big cat but that’s cause he was fit to handle it smokin blunts flat out.

And now here comes the second cup of the day and so sense must be spoken. Spoken must be sense with umbilical chords on the strain all the way flat out. Yessum. All rods leading to the promised land and netherwords spoken in the gloom. Hoom hoom gloom bloom away back to schlep!

Are we quite finished? Are you prepared now to take your medicine? No ma’am no I can’t be fucked. Well here you’re fukin’ getting it now bend over ya wee k00nt!

So look, I’ve had my injection, and am now quite willing to admit that I have done wrong. I done the wrong thing, like a stupidhead, and now I’ve got to pay the price. I’m not sure what all this entails, just that something is changing. There’s a shift of some kind. I know better now to look to a friend for suggestions, clues and craic. Bein’ a stubborn bastardo of the highest degree will get you nowhere, fast! So off I go now on my merry way to see what needs done and do my best at doin’ it. Mightn’t always be perfect, or maybe never atall, but better to have half of nothin than nothing at all.

Signing off,
Schmecklan