Fugitives

We can always escape
with your hand in mine,
it's in the pills that you offer me
but I shy away.
It's in the drink that you poor in me
and I cannot refuse.

Saturday night, we're running away,
through the turnstiles relentlessly,
flowing downstream,
it's the only way.
With your hand in mine
I feel your pulsation echoing through me
again and again,
again and again.

Make Me.

Make me fall in love with you,
Make me lose my mind for you.
Through every inch of twisted bone,
I feel it creeping up on me.

Make me fall in love with you,
Make me go insane with you
And feed me the obsession
That's dancing on my mind.

Make me fall in love with you,
Make me unimagine you
And wish our paths had never crossed
And curse the day we'd met.

Women's Rights.

I'm flicking through your diaries,
wishing that I've had the life you had.
But stupid me would only waste it anyway.

Oh darling
we be the teenage hustler
wet dream scenario
rip off artist turned bad
honey we love you so much

Ribno Funkfest

There he was, sitting on the over sized bean bag in the Nazi/Maoist kitsch resturant bowling alley Cultural Solution. His hair was pulled into the super hip style, dyed green colour pulled into a tennis ball look, he has been cultivating for the past six months. This look was a radical departure from his last (the burkha head dress and Nazi SS uniform) and stated a new area in Ribo Funkfest musical odyssey. His first album being that classic of the post apocloptic jazz-techno fest called MAA Bo, to his most recent third album with his new band Lizard Tail Shagrath, Cum Unto My M24 Slip Stain, which fuses world music with the up and coming genre of Dung Slam. I sat down on my bean bag full of alfalfa beans, and began trying to communicate with the man who has summed up the late 20s of the 21st century. He responded in just beeps for the first 5 minutes of the chat until I got through to him by screaming "when did you become so fucking real man?". At this point he broke down in tears and explained he had been only just realised what it meant to be human in the last few weeks. All due to his AIDs postive slave Pagan The Butler death of cabbage overdose. I at this point got rather bored of all of the stuff we had planned to talk about and took him on a trip to a local glass maker, this really seemed to do the trick. Last I heard he was off to Malta to train in making glass.

Mark Wright Poem

Behind one of these walls,
Mark Wright has had some of the greatest
and worst moments of his life.
Behind one of these walls, Mark Wright has masturbated,
laughed, cried, shat and bleed.
Mark Wright has started friendships behind these walls.
And ended them, too.
And I saw those walls.
With my own two eyes.

Some facts:

A panel in Belgium have lost all there pens, thus all research is off for the month. The shocking truth of the matter is that Bjorn Vanden Borre ate it, the fucker. The pen munching git of Gent, as he is now known, has stopped the vital research into the local rising use in battery acid as a method for getting shit faced. Up till now no one understands why the Flemish would believe this would work, but the brave souls of Battery Acid Gent Centre (BAGC) had being working night and day to get to the point where the could record some of their data. It is thought that Bjorn is a Walloon and was taking a radical pro-France stance in the pen stuffing, but this is unfound and probably untrue.

The band Ribno Funkfest will be putting out there new album "M25 Skid Marks and its Folk Art" in two weeks. I am truly excited, it will be other worldly.

Dolphins are planning to demand all humans are born in water. The Lords of the Sea have been giving its demands for the past three weeks since the capture of Mario Monti and his cabinet. They have also demanded they are given the rights to the moon, stolen from them by the Cow and Ant Lords of Upper Volta.