Fast Food

"Yo, Bro, give me your Mcdonalds?"
"YOUR MAC-DON-NAUlDS, BRO!!! You deaf or summin? Gimme your burgers an' fries!"
"I've only got a cheeseburger."
"Dhen give me your FUCKIN' cheeseburger, bro, 'fore I stab you up!"

A Cheesburger swaps hands.

"Wot da fuck! Can you believe dis brethren? Givin me some nasty teeth grazed, plaque coated burger with a bite outta it! Oh My Days! You takin' the piss, Bro?"
"It's all I had."
"Dhen you betta HAD get some more, yeah, 'fore I come down on your white ass! Make mine a Big Mac, yeah, an none of dhat gherkin shit in it... an fries!"

"A Big Mac (with no gherkin shit), fries, and a hamburger, please."

"But did I ask for a hamburger tho? I din't ask for no fuckin cheaparse hamburger Bro!"
"It's for me"
"Well, dat's OK dhen, yeah, you're lucky innit! Jus don't make me stab you up on CCTV, yeah. I can go to prison for dhat shit! Don't make me do it, Bro!"

A Big Mac (with no gherkin shit), fries and a hamburger are handed over.

"But you know what, yeah: You're safe, bro! You new 'round 'ere, innit? Well, you have any trubs, Bro, ANY AT ALL, and you just mention me. M'name's BurgerKing, yeah, jus name me up strait! It's cheap at the price, Bro."
"What you mean OHKAY? Chattin' ta me in dhat sad arse manna! I'm doing you a favor, Bro. Big time."
"Dhat's betta Bro... You safe, yeah.. know dhem tings! Now jog on, bro... jog on."

The Bro jogs on.

"Yo, Bro, give me your hamburger!"


  1. HA aha ha.. oh man. The mood I'm in, I really didn't think you were gonna get a laff outta me shane. This is "classic", as they say. I just moved back to London. On of the first things I saw was a pile of 7 empty Perfect Fried Chicken boxes, falling over each other in the gutter near the Turkish district when I got off the tube. What a shithole Shane. I'm glad you make poetry out of such things. xx

  2. Hiya Sailor, well it is a shithole but I'm not sure I'm totally blameless!

    I don't know, I see something bigger in the dirt.. something at the same time frightening and beautiful and even apocalyptic. I can't help but write about this stuff. I don't think I've a choice.

    How are you? Clean? Cleaner? Failing miserably? Tell me. X

  3. Sorry I didn't reply to this Shane, i've been.. off the radar somewhat. I moved from grey provincial blandness to utter, unrestrained chaos back in the smoke.. I don't know what to tell you, I've bearly processed the last few weeks myself but when I have, i'll be posting on my blog. I have third degree burns covering my right leg after pouring a litre of scalding water over myself during a crack/heroin binge. Was talking tongues in Homerton Hospital on a morphine iv, cursing the bad gear that fucked my leg up. Oh Shane. It's not as bad as it seeems. I've reached an epiphany of sorts, a sudden moment of clarity in the worst, most horrific mess and nightmare. Like Tony O'neill said somewhere, some people function best when their backs are completely against the wall and the survival/self-preservation instinct has to kick in. I've been clean for 24hours. I want beautiful tattoos over my trackmarks and scars.

    I hope you're well, and content. How is France treating you? S xx