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Thursday, 1 January 2015

Happy Mozzmas 2014 - part 1. Written by Our Mozzer







Seminal artiste Morrissey, musical director Boz Boorer, former novelist Mikey Bracewell, TV presenter Jonathan Ross, friend/photographer Linder Sterling, former neighbour/literati Alan Bennett and lead guitarist Jesse Tobias sit at a long oak table. The lights are dim and the New York Dolls fill the air with their trademark aural scowl.

At one end sit Morrissey, Alan Bennett and Linder beside a sign which states simply, "Intellectual." At the other end of the table sit Boz Boorer, wearing a conical paper hat, Jonathan Ross and Jesse Tobias next to a similar sign in identical black marker pen: "Practical." Mikey Bracewell sits equidistant between the two groups, sipping his tea, straining to hear the soft conversation from the intellectual end.

"...He's not a c***, he's a b******d," says Morrissey sourly, lifting a G&T to his lips.

"Is there a difference?" Asks Alan Bennett.

"Absolutely," says Morrissey, almost coughing on his alcohol. "If I may show you by example...?"

Linder smiles softly, a piece of parsnip on her fork.




Alan Bennett nods and adjusts his spectacles.

"...Well.. Boz Boorer-"

"-You called, sire?" Boz interrupts in a loud cheery voice.

"-Shut up Boz,"

The table goes quiet. Morrissey goes on:

"...Now Boz Boorer, of course, is a b*******d, being unable to see what a c*** he is... Russell Brand on the other hand..." says the artiste, licking his lips and pointing his finger towards a Russell Brand dartboard over the fireplace... "...Now Russell is a c*** of the highest order, being both criminally responsible for his actions, and a c***. You see the difference is self-awareness. In his defence, Boz Boorer has all the insight of a crystal meth-addicted goldfish after a serious road traffic accident and that is why I consider Boz a b******d rather than a c***, you see."

Alan Bennett looks puzzled.

"Thanks, Mozzer, sire," says Boz obliviously. "You see, I can't stand c***s either, sir, and, well, the thought of being a c*** makes me vomitarian with rage, sir-"

"-Good choice of words, Boz," Morrissey says.

"Is vomitarian a word?" asks Bennett thoughtfully.

"Yes, Mr Bennett. It comes from Mozzer's autobiography," says Boz.




"...Anyway as I was saying, I hate c***s... can't bloody stand them.... hate them.... would cross the road to avoid one.... so I'm happy that Mozzer has explained why I'm a cut above a c***... Merry Mozzmas and Godspeed, sir..."

With this, Boz Boorer lifts his half of lager and the others follow suit with their respective drinks.

"Mewwy Mozzmas!" says Jonathan Ross glibly. "If that isn't a contwadiction in terms!"

Boz Boorer laughs uproariously.

"Hahahahahaah! Did you hear that, sir? I say, sir, did you hear that? Did you hear what Mr Ross just said sir? Hahahahahaha. Did you hear that line, sir? Suit you, sir, I say, suit you, sir..."

The seminal artist sticks his tongue into his cheek and looks away.

"Bwaaahahahahahahahahah, I say! I say! Jesse, me old mucker. Did you hear what Mr Ross just said? Did you? There's no flies on Mr Ross, I say... there's no flies on 'im!"

Boz Boorer begins slapping his thigh, rolling back in his chair, and laughing fulsomely, barely able to hold the glass steady in his hand.


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"I say, I say! I say!...." Boz sobs hysterically in an otherwise silent room.

The seminal artiste shakes his head and taps on the table nervously.

Iconic singer Morrissey places his head in his hands and closes his eyes.

"I not get theses joke... they not makest sense in my language," says Jesse.

"I'll explain the joke," says Boz with a stern expression, wiping a bead of sweat from his large forehead with a sausage-finger. "Now...," begins Boz, struggling visibly to find words to explain himself, puffing his cheeks out and rubbing his neck. "You see.. we... we, here I mean.... we... all know... don't we?... what a miserable old b*****d Mozzer is-"

-Morrissey glowers at Boz Boorer and licks his lips.

"... mesmerizing old b*******d-" says Boz, looking at Morrissey for approval.

"-Old? Yours truly? I'm in my very early 50s, Martin, old son. Is Brad Pitt old?"

"Well," says Boz. "What I meant to say is what a miserable and mesmerizing  not very old b******d Mozzer is according to the press who harass and prosecute him and hurt him and misunderstand what a kind and compassionate person he is...a man who loves animals and the suffering of the poor... "

"What? Mozzer loves the suffering of the poor?" Asks Wossy glibly."That explains all the fines for his musicians!" Wossy laughs.

Boz Boorer tuts loudly.

"Old Mozzer is a diamond geezer.. that's why the joke was funny, Jesse. do you see now?"

Morrissey juts his jaw out, grins awkwardly, and looks self-depreciating/humble, then glances briefly at Alan Bennett, who remains inscrutable.

Boz raises his brow and waves his hands in front of his face in an act of sheer desperation, apparently aware his description does not even make sense to the British English in the room.

"I no see, no?" Jesse says in the manner of a question.

"It's called Bwitish iwony, Jesse!" says Wossy, glibly.

Wossy squints at Jesse, who remains blank.


Mikey sips his tea. Morrissey stands up.

"Off for a slash. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," says Morrissey.



As the door closes behind him, Alan Bennett picks up the WPINOYB lyric sheet, strategically placed just to the right of all guests. He flicks through it and his thumb stops on a particular lyric. He fiddles with his glasses and looks unsure.

"Brazil and Ukraine, Oh Egypt, Bahrain, so many people in pain..."

Bennett tails off, his nose twitching.

"Does he mean it?"

Linder looks wry.

"I've given up trying to predict what Morrissey means and what he doesn't mean," she says with her soft, fruity Liverpool vowels. "Morrissey means so much more when he tries to mean nothing."

Alan Bennett titters, wiping his nose with a handkerchief.

"Yes," he says. "It's a shame he doesn't try to mean nothing more often."

Mikey lifts the tea to his lips and allows himself a half-smile.

"I wonder what they'we talking about at t'other end of the table, Boz!" cries Wossy as if in panto.

"I'd give a penny for Sir Bennett's thoughts," says Boz Boorer.

"...They're discussing the lyrics of World Peace Is None Of Your Business, Boz," utters Mikey in a soft voice as the modern artist and the playwright nod exquisitely to each other, and exchange elegant unheard witticisms.

"I wrote those words!" cries Boz. "...well, some of them."

Linder and Alan Bennett turn to Boz, intrigued.

"What was that, Boz?" asks Bennett.

"I was just saying, Sir Bennett, sir, that I wrote some of the words to that song. Mozzer told me to."

"oh..." says Bennett curiously. "Which ones?"

"I wrote that bit about Bahrain, sire... tested the rhyme on Lyn and she really went for that one... she did. She told me it was one of the best rhymes she'd heard since she was at her secondary modern."



Bennett thumbs through the lyric sheet.

"But you're not credited, Boz...?"

"...No, Sir Bennett, sir... I did it for the honour of writing a Morrissey lyric. I like to think it stands up with the others on the album."

"One could argue that case quite confidently," Bennett says dryly.

"Whatever possessed Morrissey to put you in charge of the lyrics, Boz?" asks Linder lovingly.

"Good question, ma'am..." says Boz, nodding. "Well... it happened at 2 am in a hotel bar, just over a year ago, now ma'am..."



part 2 - the scene from the hotel bar - to follow.

23 comments:

  1. It is an honour for me to give this parody piece a home, and I would like to wish OM, Broken, 'R' and the rest of those who reside in the MW bedsit, a Happy New Year. I greatly look forward to part 2.

    Rat
    Ps Bring OM back to twitter.

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  2. Happy New Year to everyone!

    Looking forward to Part 2.

    Loved the vomitarian bit-
    "Yes, Mr Bennett. It comes from Mozzer's autobiography," says Boz

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  3. A new year delight.

    And how charming to see Alan Bennett's presence.

    A joy to read. BIG thank you .

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  4. Thank you so much for the new parody!

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  5. Great way to start the new year - thank you! It was well worth the wait and wonderful to see Linder and Alan included. I'm eagerly anticipating the continuation. New Year's greetings to everyone!

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  6. Vomitarian – now you know I won’t rest until I find that reference. Give us a clue. A page number will do.

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    1. "Putrid smells reduce me to a pitiful pile, and none are more vomitarian than school dinners."

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  7. What a wonderful start to the new year. Thank you for the parody. I truly and thoroughly enjoyed it.

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  8. It's not contrarian to believe school dinners are vomitarian because schools in general are barbarian. I hope no one needed to use the vomitorium after their New Year's celebrations!

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  9. Great new parody, I had lost all faith that it would ever materialise, but here it is with all its sparkling wit. I can't wait for part II and III.

    Happy New Year to all Blue Rosers out there, I think we know by now that Morrissey will surely accept a blue rose in 2015, but when? Oh the mystery...

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  10. Happy Mozzzmas and Happy New Year to all! A new parody! What a wonderful way to begin the new year, and after reading, it looks as it will be a splendidly humorous piece of literature. Can hardly wait for part 2. As for me, it was even more enjoyable once I spied the picture of Moz with the cat on his head and the synchronicity it held for me, as I had just watched a movie with the family, during which, our cat insisted on sitting on my head. It was the first time the cat had ever done this and I think the the family missed most of the movie watching the cat attempting to keep his balance. I will have to admit that OM went up in my perception of him, as I had not realized how hard it is to keep a cat on one's head. Hope all have a good new year.

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  11. god loves a trier (or so I'm told)

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  12. Only 13 comments. This is sad. Also, has anyone seen AlfsButton in the Arms lately? Seems he is gone. Astraea too. Or is it only my Twitter account giving me false information? How grateful I am for this parody. These are dark days.

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  13. Morning Ratty dear, you come and go....I like ghe first part of the parody and waiting for the next part. Enjoy your Sunday you all.

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    1. I don't come and go. My twitter account closed a month ago; the account you and others are interacting with (@theratlsback) is a parody account set up by our old friend Chuck. Chuck is desperate to keep the story going, but twitter died when OM left and this is now the only place to find some MorrisseysWorld offerings, although with so few comments posted, who knows if we'll get parts 2 and 3.

      For now, it's back to the real world for me.

      Rat (who is NOT back)

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    2. Hmmmm, it looks serious.

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  14. scary, that bar looks a bit like the one where I wet my pants.. age/alcohol these things happen don't you know

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  15. A very amusing parody piece it took me a while to comment, I first had to learn who Alan Bennett was seeing that he was given the title "literati", is that like illuminati for literates?

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  16. I couldn't help but smirk at the Morrissey enjoys the suffering of the poor bit seems as though identifying with "the poor" is similar to the finger lingerie physical and global pain, still they don't quite make up for what's going on inside.
    Linders line of "Morrissey means so much more when he tries to mean nothing." is parody gold.

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  17. Do I honestly need to say how much I'm anticipating the second installment? Why was Boz put in charge of lyric writing? What will linder order at the bar? And last time Morrissey was in a bathroom he got lured into the black lodge!

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  18. To my current top three favourite men – Rat, Broken, and JB, in no particular order, as all three of you bring an entirely delightful kind of very particular NO order, to my everyday.

    Rat, very good to see you and to have you back. My twitter, and perhaps other people's backs, have missed you, your yours, and all of your you'res.

    Broken darling, the parody is a deliciously dangling carrot so far. In MW parody world, time and time again I feel if I were to admit which parts I truly find funniest I should be ashamed of myself for laughing at the most inappropriate things, blushing for my transgressions, and then turning scarlet red as my own beating heart for it. Does life always imitate Art? Maybe. May be. I always laugh at all inappropriate things but am never ashamed, and I wouldn't be caught dead blushing. The transgressions will remain of course, but they can only ever be paired with the insouciance that falls by my wayside, my wayward ways, and the playful guile that is the innate and facile barometer of my life. Is everyone following so far? Didn't think so. That's fine, this is how things go. Not all things are for everyone. And nothing interesting ever will be, or will want to be. Remember that.

    The parody. The parody! The parodies' comments are always very appreciative, but they often don't say very much, so let me even out the scales that weigh.

    I can show you all my better side. That would be my left side, which is a side without inhibition. So let me swathe you all right now in exactly none of the reserve that I surely ought to have. Ought? Ought not. Thought not.

    For anyone who's already confused right now, this is your cue, don't miss it - stop thinking.
    Thinking's not for everyone, and it's invariably not just for Christmas.

    Broken, the parody is so very meta. I'm impressed, and I'm impressed that you managed to parody-dazzle whilst so seemingly parody low-key. What makes the parody so artistically meta are the layers of parody upon the layers of parody that are being parodied. Combined with layers of irony, and I do mean layers, and I see a return to MW form that I haven't sniffed in awhile around here.

    It's the meta, baby. It's all the meta. Looking forward to Part Two.
    Picture Parody Perfect. And I do love a hanging bar scene.

    As for this comment? This comment was an exercise in demonstrating the correct way to spin a jeu de mots.

    Oh, the magic I weave. The webs I spin. The board games I love, and the ways I love to win.

    Last but never least, in fact, last and never enough.... JB, I can't wait for your new album. When is it coming out? Call me. Your creative insight eclipses anyone's and everyone's, and I know that in between your beautiful new blonde hair and your baseball caps, your deliciously gorgeous, delectable blonde head is trying to generate some serious mental heat up there, desperate like a wintertime Inuit family caught huddling without a fire. Star sexy. And stay SEXXXY. I know you can do it.

    See you on Twitter. Or maybe not. On second thought, yes, we'll go with maybe, most definitely not.

    Well done Broken, OM, 'R', and team. Still punk as fuck.

    Astra

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    Replies
    1. Oh, how I love your wayward ways, Astra. Here's hoping you'll never stop weaving your magic.

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