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Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Day 1091 - Alf's the Word (Unpublished)

7am - Today, my writing of FTM is having to take a rather bizarre twist. This entry cannot be published, but I still feel that I have to write it for the record. This new bizarre twist could mean that I end up having to write two blog entries every day (everyday?), which will be horrendous bearing in mind that I don't really even have the time to write one! Here is what has happened:

Morrissey contacted me yesterday via the DM of his @stillMozsworld account, with this message:

"If you want this to continue, I suggest you delete everything on your blog that you have written about me. For the sake of the future. I assume broken will be in agreement, but you know what a dire arse he can be."

I wasn't online at the time, and an impatient Moz obviously wanted an immediate response because he then posted:

"Oi Baldy. I do not appreciate being ignored. Although why would you be any different to the music industry. I'm not drunk. ARE YOU LISTENING."

When I did log on and try to reply, I couldn't, because the account had been closed. I took the decision to take down all of my blog entries from the day that St Ill Morrissey arrived on the scene at the end of July. As I was doing this, Morrissey contacted me via a new twitter account called AlfsButton; it would appear that Southkirk & co were right in their assumption that Alf was Moz. Myself and Alf conversed via DM's as follows:

MOZ (@AlfsButton): Do not retweet me, do not mention me on the blog.

ME: I have tried replying to your dm's, but can't. All reference to you is now deleted from the blog.

MOZ: Thank you. Broken will, lets assume, be less of an annoying tart.

ME: Oh, I doubt it. And hope not!

MOZ: Tell me, how many people understand what is REALLY going on?

ME: Two.

MOZ: Is one of them even me? I have decided one needed a new email account as well. One has so many twitter accounts it is impossible to remember them all...

ME: What is this account for?

MOZ: Creating a new aesthetic. Beauty out of the ugly past. You do realise your blog was dying before I arrived.

ME: My blog is dead if I cannot write about you being on the internet.

MOZ: Oh now now. I was very specific. You can write whatever venom broken feels like dishing out onto his objects of disdain. Watch out also for the new parody account.

So, there it is. I am not allowed to mention either St Ill Morrissey or Alf's Button on my blog; and yet I am writing the story of Morrissey being on the internet, so I have no choice but to keep on writing, but as to whether or not these words will ever be read by anybody else, I do not know. It doesn't matter if they aren't; this is my own personal story.

After our DM conversation yesterday evening, Morrissey (Alf) posted an invitation on twitter for people to join him in the MorrisseysWorld chatroom. I popped in for a while, but it seemed to still be populated by the idiots that always used to be in there, such as Chuck. The only thing of interest that Morrissey posted, was that he was in France. I have no idea of this is true.

I suppose I aught to scroll through all of Alf's tweets since he opened his account on Monday, and report what he wrote, but I really am not sure if I have the time to do this. Let me go and have a look now, and I will return to report later. Actually, before I do that, I will place on record the very last DM conversation that I had with St Ill Moz on Sunday night:

Here are the edited highlights from those filthy toilets of The Twitterdilly Arms:

MOZ: I don't care anymore.

RAT: Care about what?

MOZ: You have been given ANOTHER ultimatum by broken. Not that anyone can truly care anymore.

RAT: What do you imagine I am doing right now?

MOZ: Posting his parody. Removing all trace of me from your blog?

RAT: How do you know he wasn't bluffing? Is there even a parody?

MOZ: I care not for parodies.

RAT: Do you not like a bit of a chuckle?

MOZ: What is the point? So WHAT are you doing?

RAT: You KNOW what I am doing.

MOZ: Mrs Rat?

RAT: Your (sic on purpose) obviously feeling perkier, have the sweats gone*? And why ARE you in Poland?

MOZ: I am admiring the people. Also scouting for venues. I have been in contact with ill people in order to get all possible illnesses now and out of the way before I appear live. I think the Blue Rose Rabble is still there, don't you?

RAT: Still in Poland???? No, I think they are mainly in England & the USA! God, I'm funny.

MOZ: Blimey. Are you Vernon Kay? I wish to know what you are going to do. Am I to be ejected from my own club?

RAT: What would you do if you were I?

MOZ: Do what feels right and real. If that is Broken, it is Broken. If it is not, it is not.

RAT: You KNOW what I'll do. Ultimately, I have no choice.

MOZ: The decision is yours. Broken and I go away forever.

RAT: The Blue Rosers are just coming back into the fold. They would hate me if I chose MorrisseysWorld. The knicker lot would be confused if I chose MW over real Moz. Oh decisions, decisions.... but no real decision.

MOZ: You're going to factor in the Knicker lot? How low we have fallen.

RAT: I merely mentioned them in passing. Falling knickers? Lol. It would be interesting if I asked the BRS to chose.

MOZ: It would. but again, is there a point. It is your blog. Unfortunately it is your decision. Democracy is dead.

RAT: And you know I wouldn't bother asking them. Half would choose you, 1 or 2 would chose MW, and the others would sit on the fence.

MOZ: Apparently I am a Troll account. I hardly call what I do trolling. Rat I have to tell you that my energy levels are being depleted by this fucking nonsense. Excuse the swearing. Just post the parody piece and never mention me. The decision has been made.

(At this point Moz posted on twitter, "I am going to be ejected from my own club.")

RAT: You just want to leave & you want me to take the blame. I am your Judas.

MOZ: I have never thought of it like that.

RAT: You KNEW I'd post it.

MOZ: Give the people what they want. And in that way, you are my Bruce Forsyth.

RAT: Give me 10 minutes, and get Boz to count out the silver coins. NO Polish ones.

MOZ: You do realise this is the proper end?

RAT: You want me to end it, don't you?

MOZ: It won't end. Broken and your OM will continue. But parodies is all that they will be. I am over. Oboe Concerto.

RAT: I guess we ain't getting that interview then?

MOZ: Ask Broken.

RAT: Broken's a ****! Mind you, so are you! ****! ***@@@*@*!

MOZ: Perhaps he will be more amusing than I.

RAT: Undoubtedly. He's a very funny man, and SO misunderstood.

MOZ: Undoubtedly? Christ.

RAT: No, Judas.

MOZ: Are you Lady Gaga?

RAT: In part.

MOZ: Is it the meat dress?

RAT: Ouch!

MOZ: Ready for the demise. It is the pitiful end of a pitiful parody of the Roman Empire. Goodbye Ratius Ceaser.

RAT: Will you accept and wear roses?

MOZ: Would you?

RAT: Yes.

MOZ: You're a strange fucker. I have consulted Mrs Rat. She confirmed such rumours.

RAT: Do you know what: I think you quite like me!

MOZ: I like no-one. You can all go suck eggs.

RAT: : )

MOZ: What is that? You are a strange man. Tell me, are you parody of Kenneth Williams?

RAT: In part.... his piles.

MOZ: Well it certainly isn't his caustic manner.

RAT: Parody is nearly ready to publish.

MOZ: I cannot care. I will get my coat. It smells like a lingering fart around here. You know, I may just say this account was you. I do not think anyone would believe me. The end is nigh.

RAT: Many WOULD believe you. People honestly think I've made all this up... where as actually. YOU made it all up, and NOBODY believes you! You couldn't make this up!

MOZ: You could not write this.

RAT: You should do some washing up (Note- this is a reference to M once telling me that he has never washed up)

MOZ: That is fucking rude. Perhaps you should do some exercise.

RAT: Cunt.

MOZ: You sound surprised. You know who you are dealing with don't you?

RAT: King Cunt?

MOZ: Clever. You should write for the Telegraph. Its all cricket and bald men.


MOZ: You have mis-typed something there. Unless I am a Cnut. And yes I'm aware I said perform (on twitter). One can be forgiven given the circumstances.

RAT: It made my day.

MOZ: Flustered. My quiff is trembling.

RAT: At least you still have one... just!

MOZ: Yes. I also can wear medium clothes. Where do you get your tents from?


MOZ: Are you sitting at the o2? How many seats did you buy?

RAT: Twat. I don't sit. Get me on stage.

MOZ: The stage can barely hold Boz. If you were to pounce onto the stage it would surely collapse.

RAT: I am NOT fat. I bet I weigh less than you. I'm off to bed. You have broken my little rat heart.

MOZ: I weigh as much as a fart. You have broken my much larger Morrissey heart.

RAT: You don't have a heart.

MOZ: You don't have genitals. I have checked with Mrs Rat.

RAT: Wanker.

MOZ: I tell you something... I could write a better parody piece with my hands tied to a mule. A mike more commonly known as Mrs Rat.

RAT: Apparently you don't like parodies!

MOZ: I cannot stand them.

RAT: I HAVE to got to bed. Keep this account open. Goodnight.

MOZ: I think all of you are massive cunts. Don't tell me what to do you fucking cunt.

RAT: Yes, you probably do. Selfish bastard. Cunty cunt cunt. CUNT.

MOZ: I must admit. Is refreshing to be open.

RAT: Sentimental twat.

MOZ: Cunt. Nobody gave one flying shit about your blog before I turned up.

*I referred to Morrissey's "sweats" because in a DM from earlier in the week, Morrissey had told me the following, which I decided NOT to make public, as I felt it was confidential:

"Illness has taken over my soul. One is sweating more than Lee Evans. I feel as if my legs have detached themselves from my body. I am taking my leave from the internet for a week."

It didn't last, as he returned the next day saying:

"My arms are as floppy as the hair on the head of Barry Styles. My legs as nimble as coat hangers."

When I pointed out to Morrissey that he was supposed to be taking leave from the internet, and that this was the internet, he replied:

"Is it? I thought it was Asda. Where are the oranges?"

He then added:

"Have you ever sweated so much you wake up in a swimming pool? I wouldn't mind so much but does Michael Barrymore have to keep watch every night?"

I am presuming that St Ill Moz is now gone forever, but with Morrissey, you never can tell. The MorrisseysWorldStill blog is still live, although nothing has been written since August 14th.

Right then, I am off to scroll through the tweets of AlfsButton. I have googled Alf's Button to see who or what it is, and it would appear to be the name of a 1920's novel written by W.A.Darlington. It was also turned into a film in 1930, but according to google, the film is lost.

3.30pm - The AlfsButton account was opened on the 8th, with an opening tweet of, "Fresh beginnings." The next tweet was, "The parody had as much life in it as Katie Price's brain", which tends to suggest that Alf Moz is distancing himself from MorrisseysWorld.

Alf then tweeted @blueknickers saying, "I wish for only blue knickers to be thrown at me now. I have seen the error of my ways." It doesn't look as though he got a response.

Here are the next lot of tweets from the 8th:

"In order to write a new chapter we must rip out the previous twenty four."

"I am, as of now, unsure as to how this account will continue."

I get the impression that this new Alf account was set up so that Moz could try and win over all those who didn't like St Ill's connection to the previous regime. I can also see why Morrissey doesn't want me writing about it, as if I'm involved, it muddy's the waters.

Alf spent the rest of Monday interacting with; George, Kerry, Lizzy, Willow, Moz Fiend, BunnyGal and Southkirk.

Here are a few more of his tweets from the 8th:

"It is funny how even the motorway can make one pine for Britain."

"I only ask one favour, please do not retweet me." (I wonder why this is?)

In response to Lizzt asking if he minds being 'favourited': "Well the charts seem to have turned their back on me so how else will I know that public taste remains just that? Taste."

"We must not be confined by our age. both our own personal age and the cultural age."

"How can you remember the good times of which there were so few?"

"How can you forget the bad times of which there were so many?'

"Some people can spend ages here and achieve nothing until they accept themselves. The meaning of life is surely that there is none."

As I read through these tweets, I have stumbled across some more back stabbing for yours truly. After my fall-out with Manc Lad yesterday, in which I told him exactly what I thought of him, I find this on Alf's timeline:

KERRY (@AmIMoving2Fast): I take it the vermin one won't be included in this?

MOZ (Alf): Vermin is too nice a word.

JESSE (Moz Fiend): The Rat is dead boys, and it's so lonely on a limb.

MOZ: The rat is dead? Finally.

KERRY: He'll never die- he's one of those that last forever.... interfering. Apparently this is the end (again). Please don't accept a rose on this tour or he'll start up again."

MOZ: I am a protected account so he will not be able to see anything. One is on one's guard."


So that is what Moz meant about infamy! I had missed all this. The likes of Kerry and Moz Fiend would have known NOTHING about Morrissey being on twitter if it wasn't for my blog! My flabber is gasted! What c***'s!

More from the 8th:

"I do not wish to be found except by a select few."

"Intelligence is the precursor to depression."

"The time for goodbye was yesterday and yet I am still here."

"Since the interview with The Rat is not going ahead, I feel obliged to answer your questions..."

Questions were asked by Kerry, Southkirk, Bunnygal and Edge, but all were boring."

"She said I know you and you just cannot sing and I said that's nothing you should listen to Rihanna."

"If we are being honest I've not had a quiff since 1994."

"When I stand on stage and see the mass swarm of people I begin to think "How?" How do you all know me. It's all very confusing."

"Diaries are for people with criminally short memories" (How true!)

"England possesses an unique nerve that generates such enormous creativity."

"There is a "hidden" song on Jarvis Cocker's solo album that is called C**** are still running the world. The question is why did Jarvis hide it. He was probably so drunk he didn't even realise he recorded it.. I have been there. Born to Hang."

"I am a flâneur."

Tuesday Sept 9th:

"Je Suis..... You know the rest."

"I'm English, Drown me."

"If one wishes to be mysterious one should acquire a quiff and simply turn down social events."

"I am covered head to foot in angst and acrimony."

"Most people my age look dreadful; I'd say I'm probably 'not bad'."

"If I was one of the pack there wouldn't be room to move. I'd hate to be everybody's friend."

"I feel I have saved some of my best statements for an account where only 12 people can see what I'm doing."

"I am currently listening to Frank Sinatra and Celeste Holm sing Who wants to be a millionaire."

To George Edge: "The Arctic Monkeys once sung about dandelion and burdock. Please do not mention anything Turner has done."

"All dreams are nightmares. Postponements of the real world as the real world is even worse."

That's about it. It is just as well that this entry isn't being published, as it is of ridiculous length, and has no pictures to break it up.

For the record, here is a comment left by Broken yesterday. I love the line, "Still, this must be how the real M feels about MW.":

You are forgiven Jjaz. But how stillmorrisseysworld could be compared to OM or even simple old me is incomprehensible. The copyist types like chuck/morrisseysmum trying to ape MW. It's hilarious to witness people following with wide-eyed naivety.

Still, this must be how the real M feels about MW.

Posted by Broken to Following The Mozziah at 9 September 2014 18:36

STOP PRESS: Moz Fiend has just sent a DM to apologise for stabbing me in the back. No such apology yet from Kerry. None of them deserve me..... and now that I am underground with the blog, they haven't got me!

*Published October 14th 2015

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