Hmmm. Just. Hmmm.
(Courtesy of Nick Mamatas)
An elite force has been set up to strengthen counter-terrorism and support special forces, Defence Secretary John Reid has confirmed.
The Special Forces Support Group (SFSG) based in Wales, will be drawn from Royal Marines, Parachute Regiment and the RAF Regiment.
Its insignia is a dagger run through by a lightning flash.
But isn't "Special Forces Support Group" a bit... awkward. And come on... "Support Group"! Makes it sound like they sit around sharing personal tragedies and offering earnestly sympathetic nods. Surely they could shorten it a bit... to "Special Support", for example. Then just add another lightning flash to the insignia.
An elite force has been set up to strengthen counter-terrorism and support special forces, Defence Secretary John Reid has confirmed.
The Special Forces Support Group (SFSG) based in Wales, will be drawn from Royal Marines, Parachute Regiment and the RAF Regiment.
Its insignia is a dagger run through by a lightning flash.
But isn't "Special Forces Support Group" a bit... awkward. And come on... "Support Group"! Makes it sound like they sit around sharing personal tragedies and offering earnestly sympathetic nods. Surely they could shorten it a bit... to "Special Support", for example. Then just add another lightning flash to the insignia.
posted by Hal Duncan | 3:33 pm
1 Comments:
It's Blog Against Heteronormativity Day apparently. I know it sounds silly but it's true. And it gives me an excuse to post more crude, rude and downright lewd lyrics. Except the Evil Blogger Heteronormativity isn't allowing me to create a new post for some reason. I'll try again later but for now I'm just going to post here -- a few brief ditties from my short-lived (to the point of entirely imaginary) foray into punk music with the never-quite-existent band Fagsmoke:
Suck Me, Fuck Me, Chuck Me
I guess I don’t know anything about you.
But I’ve seen you and I’d like to.
Would you like to like to too.?
Would you? Could you? Should you?
Suck me! Fuck me!
When you’re finished you can chuck me.
I’ll be... happy...
With just an hour or two or three.
Don’t want to waste time on infatuation,
But I’m tired of masturbation.
Would you like to like to be
With me, with you in me?
Suck me! Fuck me!
When you’re finished you can chuck me.
I’ll be... happy...
With just an hour or two or three.
***
The Boy With Green Hair
I saw him skating in the park.
He made me wanna bark out loud.
I had to pull my chain and stop right there.
No tee-shirt, phat jeans,
Suggesting thoughts obscene,
With the F.C.U.K. on his underwear,
That boy with green hair.
And he was falling off his board
I was laying on the grass.
He just took my breath away.
What a beautiful ass.
Wonder if I got a chance.
Do we listen to the same bands?
Have I got a prayer
With that boy with green hair?
But there’s nothing about him that says he is gay.
No, there’s nothing about him that gives it away.
If he’s queer, if he’s straight,
I could not estimate,
But I know that at least he ain’t square,
That boy with green hair.
I saw him at the gig. He
Was dancing just like Iggy.
I wanna be your dog-boy, I decla-are.
Like a character from a Manga,
Animated fist-of-anger,
In the mosh-pit, jumping up and punching air,
That boy with green hair.
And he was dancing like a fiend,
Soaked in sweat, and so was I.
He just took my breath away,
When he caught my eye.
Then he asked me for a smoke,
So I offered him a toke.
Not the only thing I’d share
With that boy with green hair.
But there’s nothing about him that says he is gay.
No, there’s nothing about him that gives it away.
If he’s queer, if he’s straight,
I could not estimate,
But I know that at least he ain’t square,
That boy with green hair.
I saw him drinking with a dude,
Being loud and being lewd,
Bonding in a game of Truth or Da-are.
Then the question came his way:
“Would you fuck a guy for pay?”
And he looked right at me, I would swear,
That boy with green hair.
Then he was taking off his shoes,
Taking off his shirt and pants,
Standing up among the booze.
And he started to dance.
And as the bouncer dragged him out.
He let off a drunken shout:
“I would fuck whatever! I don’t care!”
My boy with green hair.
Well there’s something about you that’s definitely queer.
But are you a faggot, or just fucking weird.
With your choke-chain and wrist-band,
How far do you twist? And
Just give me the word – I’ll be there.
My boy with green hair.
They say bisexuality’s six drinks away.
Let me buy you a drink. Let me lead you astray.
Maybe we could meet later,
My little punk skater,
Go out on a date, or
Just mutually masturbate.
Oh-oh, that boy with green hair. [repeat till end]
***
Where’s My Fucking Record Contract?
Abercrombie and Fitch
Gives me an itch
I want to scratch.
Corporation boy-bands
Give me a plan
I want to hatch.
I would like to take you somewhere.
I would like to (Just don’t go there).
I would like to put my hands
Inside those low-slung cargo pants
And dance.
Shave a monkey and put it on a stage.
Manufacture adolescent rage.
Nu-metal. Nu-buck.
Why don’t you just take it out and fuck.
All the girls and boys,
They are just toys,
So squeaky clean.
All the boys and girls,
They don’t take pills
Or anything obscene.
I would like to change the station.
Radio Free Masturbation.
I would like to say right here
That Linkin Park are fucking queer
To me.
Shave a monkey and put it on a stage.
Manufacture adolescent rage.
Nu-metal. Nu-buck.
Why don’t you just take it out and fuck.
If I were pretty I would demonstrate,
But I’m no model and
The rest of them are straight.
Shave a monkey and put it on a stage.
Manufacture adolescent rage.
Nu-metal. Nu-buck.
Why don’t you just take it out and fuck.
Iggy Pop was there
In underwear
Ten years ago and more.
G.G. Allen is gone
And still puts on
A more exciting show.
I would like to play with Hanson,
In a set with Charlie Manson.
I would make them understand
What makes a boy become a man.
(Nice tan.)
Shave a monkey and put it on a stage.
Manufacture adolescent rage.
Nu-metal. Nu-buck.
Why don’t you just take it out and...
Shave a monkey and put it on a stage.
Nice voice. Right age.
You’re Tom. I’m Huck.
Why don’t we just take it out and--
Why don’t we just take it out and FUCK!
***
As you were.
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