Two age old conundrums which have confused apes for never: Which is more important, petrol or cake? Tough one. Good one. And the other… What does a bucket and a chariot have in common? That is a tad easier. Starts with an M and ends with an ape. Wuu. Lucky them! If you have been reading my gibber since way back when – when what? – or one of the hundreds of thousands of people to have read my book of gibber, you might remember my love affair with… The Bucket. Remember. Shudder. The One. Heartbreak. Ridicule. Agony. Frustration. Sadness. Despair. Delighted. Well, delighted when I eventually sold my old truck and stopped going on and on and on about it. My old truck which looked like a rusty old bucket. Smelt like fake tan. Kept breaking down. Which is the technical term for when you run out of petrol. Yes indeed, I am that clueless. Well, was that clueless. Slightly better now. Although this gibber begs to differ… Continue Reading »
Category Archives: Music
Duh Dumb Diddle Daddle…
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Just to be clear: Here is a dumb diddle daddle on how the dumb diddle daddle. Seriously. Alright. You’re smart. We know this. You’re quite aware of the fact that there’s a lot of dumbness floating aboot the air. Out there. Real world. Daily life. Every single day. Every single way. All could and should be so simple. Instead. Dumbness everywhere. Thing is though, far worse than dumb. Come back to that. First off… Want to hear what being hit by cars, ridiculously hot girls, frogs, ferns, mosses, mongolian, yachts in the sky, poolside murders, petrol, buckets, idiots and much more, all have in common?! Yes? No? Decide… Read on! Gibber dish is once again overflowing. Blogaruus building up. Threads getting thinner. Incoherent mess. Horse on before all is forgotten! Di-daddle on! Continue Reading »
Enough Talk, More Music!!!
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Mighty weekend of DJigging. Go on the rent! 16 hours of jigging later. Pre-tty musique’d out. Only one thing to do… Write an old music blogaruu! Obviously. Buckets of blogaruus piling up. Time to churn. Splatter on. Mighty night last night, music wise at least. People exclaiming. Gushing throughout… ‘This is the greatest music night of my life!!!’ Thank you. If only the songs were actually mine… Re de de. Although one guy did complain. He who came from the land Down Under. Thought we shared a bond. As I come from the land called Ireland? Strong bond. Told me my music was very white. Too white. Odd. Seeing as he was white. And I was playing a Jay-Z song at the time. Well done. And then he asked for Lady Gaga. Always one. Back to none of the music being mine… Wrote a poem the other night. High on candle wax. (Bought a candle. Not sure why again. Seems to be laced with something). So, high on my candle wax wings, this came along…
Float. On! I am a fish. You are the gills. Without or without... Actually. Doesn't really matter? The End.
Ehh… Go on the candle wax wings! Oh Jesus. Anyways, enough talk, more music! Continue Reading »
Hi My Name Is Mark And I’m A…
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Narc. Just in case you didn’t know. Although it might be a tad obvious. Spades shall be called. Write a blogaruu all aboot… Myself. Wrote a book all aboot… Me and my. Most of the time I live in… My head. More often than not I talk to… Myself. When I look in the mirror the first person I always look at… Me. Whose name does narc rhyme with… Mine. If ever you selfishly tell me your news, my first reaction is to think… How does or will this somehow affect me. Mull that over quickly. And then I will reply, laugh, congratulate, commiserate, dance a dance or whatever it may be. Run away screaming. Who knows. But first things first. What does it mean for me? One might call me… Narc King! Oh Jesus. Don’t blame me. Blame narcissism. Actually, no. Do blame me. All my fault. Narc on! Continue Reading »
Monkey Free Crap Fun!
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Dancers. Islands. Yachts. Parts. Practice. Bathrooms. Some things are better private. Ehh… Numbers. Some things are not. One new addition to the better pile… Jets. Finally I can now confidently say: Private jets are the dancers of the air. Finally, says you. I know, says I. Giddy up! Assumption off. Jet on. Absolutely funking mighty. Planned on doing a blogaruu from up in the air. Unfortunately. Tad busy. Boozing. Dancing. On a plush private jet. On my way to Vegas. All on a Monday morning?!! Nay too shabby. Bloody Mary all the way! Literally. Go on the ape. Did manage to get a bit of mental bookaruu scribbling in, at least. Le sequel could start a bit like this… I’m on a jet. Private kind. En route to Vegas. Disneyland. Doused in acid. The land of whures. Heat. More whures. Monkeys. Mind wobbles. Crap fun. And depression. Wuu! Can’t wait. Vegas on… Continue Reading »
Enough Talk, More Music!!!
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Here’s an unfortunate correlation: Fuller days. Hungrier blogaruu. Tut tut. Catch up on. Few nuts to shell out. Apparently. Graced the sheets of a big magazine this week. Howdy! Or something like that. Looking well I’ve been told. Headless. Body only. Few chins. Better off. Butter heads are better. Or something like that. Nut on. New soccer team had a mighty victory on Thursday night. 2 nil down at half time. Horrendous first half. Second half. Different story. Insert football phrase here. Won 3 – 2. Mighty stuff. Being honest, a lot of it might be down to me. In fact, a bucket praise should be shoveled. Inspirational. What with me coming off at half time, and all that. Turning point… I believe so. Ahem. Go on the Gypos! On the down side. Kind of feels like bees are raping my knee. Bees with rabies. Angry bees. Oh re de de my knee. Fun times! On the up. If ever our team has a cook up (as teams invariably do), we now have a pre-tty mighty chef on board to give us some tips. Good player too. Giddy up the Ram! All of which concludes the nutshells off the top of my bloated head. Anyways, enough talk, more music! Continue Reading »
Enough Talk, More Writing! 
