A Nice piece on Sky news re the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this morning It made me want to boak up in the habitat basket. A Mouldering, Organic, filthy nest of Thx 1138 Middle class, Barber shop ,T cell count hivers and same sex loving Shamen shaking their Ju Ju stick of myrth at Brexit, Ukip and its voters , Farage and Trump. Two of these Sneering PlayWrights, who were obviously dulled by prescription Opiates stolen from Mothers Medicine Cabinet, were Sprawled out in some fucking vegan Cafe on bean bags whilst being interviewed by SKY as if they were Richards and Jagger being interviewed by Ben fong Torres and Lester Bangs in the summer of 1973 in a bedouin tent surrounded by hairless young boys for latent casual fucking in a fug of shisha pipe smoke. What Wilful Cunts. What Amoeba Assassins. Splayed out akin a couple of Oliver Postgate bookends and arrogantly drinking in the snivelling homage and Ever so Humble Platitudes dished out by SKY like their the Soft Cell Muse Cindy Ecstasy or Leigh Bowery Haughtily dropping in at the Blitz Club with his Horsemeat and Fuckpiece, Trojan. Slags. To listen to the reporter your’d think he just discovered Lou Reed at Warhols Factory and not in actual fact, the commensurate Joe Meek Protege, ‘Heinz’.
What is it with these self absorbed floaty fabrics spawned from comfortably numb middle class parents that compels them to wear Green Lantern T shirts and declare themselves as destructive playwrights of Mindbending apocalyptic literature, That in reality , produce material that Keith fucking Baron would Dismiss as fucking shite for his Vehicle ,’ Duty Free’.
Like Max Schreck going for the throbbing Jugular on a lily white debutantes neck, these fuckers need no second invite to tread the theatrical boards and expunge their creative juices like strands of eggwhites from a Fanny Craddock sponge, into the swish of the crushed velvet stage curtains and Knot of the Pelmet.
The Edinburgh festival . Dressing up in costumes playing silly games. Poncing about on stage dressed as John Barrowman playing Nancy with ferrets down the front of your 18 button hole , buck skin pantaloons and thus under the delusion that you can somehow relate to Quentin Crisp copping a near fatal kicking in the leather bottle pub from a 18 stone docker, now riddled with self loathing and wants his shilling back after a bout of perfunctory and sanitised slicklegging in the pubs shithouse. Through the Avenues and alleyways..Taking the piss out of the working class while standing in a caucasian chalk circle on stage . Then taking the Piss some more out of the working class who stand on their own two feet wanting or needing fuck all from the left Hive, let alone their lascivious approval. Once The edgy , Progressive board treading and drama workshops are evacuated from their systems like last nights Jalfrezi from cancerous Bowels, its off to a Career in aggressive venture capital , dumping stock and jobs. Making racy jokes about the thickness of Negroid scrotal sac in comparison to their north european White male counterparts at dinner parties , with the strains of Bryan Ferry in his shark skin suit singing Avalon on the ironic technics 1210 turntable , the cunts.
Edinburgh fringe Playwrights..Egos bigger than a middle aged , bloated prog rock god who now travels the world Patting plate lipped tribesman on the head and introducing gambling , fags, and booze into their eco system , before fucking off back to his salmon farm in a remote scottish hinterland, where he plays Thelonious Monk records , on 9″ acetate, to his fish while he smokes them ..believing it to improve the flavour and increase the already punitive retail price , so that only the republic of Walthamstow Village and its Political commisars can feast upon its flesh. Cool Daddy Mancat. Edinburgh Fringe . As welcome as winning The Brady / Hindley c30 c60 c90 go cassette Tapes in a game of pass the parcel at a kiddies 7th birthday party.