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Sunday, 28 February 2016

Day 1629 - A sign of crashing bores

Close your eyes and picture an imaginary back street called, Morrissey Row. Morrissey Row is a poorly lit road, away from the main drag of the town centre, and is home to a number of Morrissey theme pubs; three of which feature in this story.

The first of these pubs is a long established inn called, The Delve So-low, which is located in the heart of the street, and owned outright by a Chinese American named, David 'Kim Jong-un' Tslag. Tslag earned his 'Kim Jong-un' nickname due to both a facial likeness, and similar dictatorial ways to the North Korean leader. Tslag leaves the day-to-day running of the pub to a small group of volunteers, which include head barman, Uncle Skinny, or 'Prick' as he has nicknamed himself - which he often shortens to simply, 'P.'. The Delve So-low once boasted a thriving community, but in recent years it's popularity has declined, and it is now a place where there are regular brawls among the clientele - more often than not, started by the staff.


The second pub is a members only club called, The Wrong Arms. The Wrong Arms is home to a small co-operative known as the Blue Rose Society, whose members all wear a rose; which they believe is Morrissey's own personal flower of choice.

And lastly is a newly opened wine bar at the far end of the street called, Heifer Whines. This bar is away from the other pubs, and was purchased by it's three young owners; Kezza, MerryAnne and Bitchy Bob on impulse, having carried out no market research whatsoever to ascertain whether or not there was any demand for such a place.

Each of the three establishments is equipped with both a jukebox and a giant screen. The jukebox in The Delve So-low is stocked mainly with songs by the Smiths, and from Morrissey's solo career up until 1995 - there are no songs from the past 20 years. The jukebox in The Wrong Arms is full of anything and everything; excluding Dread Beerrun, Katy Porridge, Kanye Worst or any of the other non-entities currently masquerading as the populist, whilst the jukebox in the Heifer Whines mainly has songs by Morrissey from his solo career, including multiple copies of Action is my Middle Name and People Are the Same Everywhere.

When the Morrissey website, True-To-You, publishes anything, it is automatically transmitted onto the giant screen in each of the pubs. Our story begins just as such an occurrence has taken place. It is Saturday February 27 2016, and T-T-Y has just released an article entitled, The World Is Full of Crashing Bores, which consists of a video entitled, The Truth About Popular Music.

(Inside The Delve So-low)

UNCLE SKINNY: Oh look, here we go again, yet more bollocky old bollocks from the yesterday man.

POET: But you haven't even watched it yet, so how can you possibly make comment on the content of the video?

UNCLE SKINNY: I don't need to watch it, you Yankee twat, I already KNOW that it will be a load of  horse shite. Anything and everything that that man says, or associates himself with, is wanky fuck piss these days; including his so called musicians.

POET: Then why do you bother coming here?

UNCLE SKINNY: Because I'm waiting for him to reform the Smiths, you dozy dick drip. It's only a matter of time now. He is completely devoid of any new ideas, and will very soon crawl on his knees to plead with Johnny to reunite the greatest group there ever was, and I will be in the front row to see it. I know I'm right, and if you say otherwise, I will sue you. In fact, if you utter another word, I will sue you.

IRISH BLOOD: Well, if anyone's interested, the video is about how dumbed down the music industry has become, and it includes a mention of Morrissey and Marr, and how they once injected poetry and melodic genius into the pop charts.

UNCLE SKINNY: WHAT'S THAT? Morrissey has posted a video about him and Marr? It's a sign. It's a glaringly obvious sign. He hasn't mentioned Marr for years, and now he suddenly posts a video all about how good he was with Johnny. The reunion is ON I tell yer, it's ON!

POET: The video is hardly all about Morrissey and Ma-

UNCLE SKINNY: -SHUT UP, SHUT UP! No one wants to hear your bullshit, you pile of goat cum. You can expect a letter from my wife, I mean lawyer, first thing tomorrow.

(Meanwhile, over at The Wrong Arms, the regulars have just finished watching the video)

RAT: Well, well, well, would you believe it. I spend Wednesday, Thursday and Friday tweeting about how dreadful the record industry is, and now THIS! It's an obvious nod to me. I must write about this latest 'coincidence' on my mesmerizing blog, which Morrissey himself spends hours and hours reading. And look, Moz has even given it the heading, The World Is Full of Crashing Bores, which I just so happened to make Number 1 in the weekly chart I compile on my incredible blog. It couldn't BE more obvious - Morrissey is giving me a virtual wave.

(The other people in The Wrong Arms exchange glances with each other, and roll their eyes. There is silence for a while before eventually Comrade Herpes speaks.)

COMRADE HERPES: You might well be right, Rat, but my initial thought is that it is more likely a nod to MorrisseysWorld. Our Mozzer was always posting conspiracy theory pieces.

HEATHER CAT: Yes, I agree, Comrade. I'm not saying that you're wrong, Rat, but the video is by Paul Joseph Watson, who is an editor of Alex Jones' Infowars website. I'm pretty sure Our Mozzer used to follow Jones on Twitter. It would appear to me that by posting this video on TTY, Morrissey is once again proving that he was involved with MorrisseysWorld.

RAT: Yes, I agree with you two, it's a definite nod to both FTM and MorrisseysWorld... but probably mainly FTM. Let's not ever forget that toothbrush mention in Long Island.

CHUCK: (muttering so that Rat can't hear, but the others can) How could we?

(Everyone sniggers)

RAT: What's that you said?

CHUCK: I said, er, er, how could he? How could Moz do that?

RAT: Do what?

CHUCK: Oh, er, um, ignore me, I'm just a silly fruit.

RAT: Why exactly do you dress up as a fruit? Everyone knows who you are.

CHUCK: I've gotten used to it. I like the feel of the peel against my skin.

RAT: You're weird!

CHUCK: Thank you.

(Meantime, down at the Heifer Whines, the three owners are sat around, hoping that some customers may appear. Kezza has just finished watching the video)

KEZZA: O... M... G! I don't believe what I have just seen.

MERRYANNE: I missed it, what was it?

KEZZA: It was a video from TTY HQ.

MERRYANNE: Oh, what drama. I'm not sure I can cope. What was in the video? Did it have kittens in it?

KEZZA: No, no kittens, but-

MERRYANNE: -That's a shame, what about adult cats?

KEZZA: No, there were no kittens, no cats, no animals at all, but-

MERRYANNE: -No animals? What about cardigans?

KEZZA: No, there were no cardigans, no jackets, and no shirt tosses.

BITCHY BOB: It was another of those conspiracy videos.

MERRYANNE: I do wish Julia wouldn't post those, Morrissey will be dreadfully upset. It's making me feel sad just thinking about how sad Morrissey will now be feeling. I don't think I can go to work now.

KEZZA:  Forget the video, that's completely irrelevant, it's the heading that's important - it's a direct message to YOU, MerryAnne.

MERRYANNE: Oh, WHAT drama, I'm not sure I can cope. How does it relate to me?

KEZZA: Well, which of his songs did you write about yesterday on our utterly superb new blog, The real and proper world of real Morrissey?

BITCHY BOB: Just call it Trap Worm, that's what everyone else calls it.

MERRYANNE: Everyday is Like Sunday?

KEZZA: No, not that one, the other one you wrote about.

MERRYANNE: Dial a cliché?

KEZZA: No, the other one.



MERRYANNE: The End of the Family Line? We'll let You Know? Seasick, Yet Still Docked?

KEZZA: NO, NO, NO! The World is Full of Crashing Bores! You wrote about it yesterday, remember?

BITCHY BOB: We all wrote about LOTS of songs.

KEZZA: Yes, but MerryAnne just so happened to write about Crashing Bores, and then the following day, Morrissey posts on TTY using the EXACT same title. It's IN-CRED-IBLE. Everything Moz does these days is either a nod to me or a nod to MerryAnne... usually me... but this time it's YOUR turn, MerryAnne.

MERRYANNE: Oh, God. I don't think I can cope! WHAT drama.

(Bitchy Bob looks to the heavens, opens his fourth bag of crisps of the day, and returns to reading his copy of Big Nuts Monthly magazine. Just then the door opens, and a small Scottish woman walks in. )

JINKLES: Och, this looks like a nice bar. Are you three the BRS?

KEZZA: The Blue Rose Society? No we're fucking not! We don't want anything to do with those wankers. We're the SBR.

BITCHY BOB: I thought we were the RBS?

KEZZA: S-B-R! *Tuts*

JINKLES: Can I join?

KEZZA: Not just anyone can join the Society of the Blue Rose. To join, you have to really love Moz.


KEZZA: Oh, yeah? How much?


KEZZA: Okay, you're in. But there's to be no mention of conspiracy theories, it's just kittens, cardigans and shirt tosses for the RBS.

JINKLES: I thought you said you were the SBR?

KEZZA: Yes, SBR, that's it. I never was any good at spelling.

(Just then, Morrissey runs down Morrissey Row, past all the Morrissey theme pubs. The inhabitants of the pubs all see Morrissey, and they spill out into the road, to look for him. A blue rose lays (or is it lies, I never can remember) in the middle of the street. Rat picks it up and holds it aloft)

RAT: A SIGN! A SIGN! Morrissey is running away from all the utter pointlessness and uselessness of it all, and he has left us a blue rose as a sign to stick with him. Follow me and the sign of the blue rose. Let us follow the Mozziah.

UNCLE SKINNY: Shut the fuck up, numb nuts, you must have put that rose there earlier, when no one was watching. Morrissey is looking for Marr, and is running towards a new record deal with the Smiths. We must follow Morrissey as he puts the band back together.

(Kezza then snatches the blue rose away from Rat)

KEZZA: The blue rose has been left for ME. Morrissey is telling us that he wants the RBS-


KEZZA: -That he wants the SBR and TRAP WORM to be the new home for his real and proper fans to meet. He has shut down the MorrisseysWorld chatroom, and now wants all of us true and proper fans to get off of our backsides, or rather, stay on our backsides, and follow him to TRAP WORM.

CHUCK: You can't say off of, it's just off.

KEZZA: What?

CHUCK: Sorry, I don't mean to split hairs, but I noticed that you'd written it a couple of times in your piece about favourite songs from albums. You just can't do it.

(Kezza turns to MerryAnne)

KEZZA: I thought you'd checked that article for spelling and grammar.

MERRYANNE: I did, but I didn't want to upset you.

(Whilst the two members of the SBR argue about grammar, the rest of the Morrissey fans head to the hills, looking for Morrissey)


  1. I wished you'd go back to writing parodies more often, this was hilarious. And what a flattering picture you chose for me! Thanks for photoshopping those extra three extremities to my body, I almost look human.

    Of course I can't help correcting you, it's in my genes. You wrote that TRAPWORM is "The real and proper world of proper Morrissey", but I'm quite sure you intended to write "The real and proper world of REAL Morrissey". Because otherwise it makes no sense.

    I'll comment again later when I've found all the other grammar and spelling mistakes, like "it's popularity" in the second paragraph, which I have no doubt you wrote on purpose to amuse me. Merci bien.

    1. Ah, thanks for noticing that I got Trap Worm wrong; I have corrected it, but will leave the grocer's apostrophe in 'it's' as proof of imperfection. The grocer's apostrophe has become my tag. I'm glad you liked the parody, it is good to be able to laugh at ourselves.

  2. Thanks for a good laugh - things have been too serious around here for far too long. I agree with Orange that more parodies would be most welcome. And FYI, it's 'lies' instead of 'lays'.

  3. A new parody is a fine way to start the week.
    More please!
    Thanks for the laughs Rats.

  4. The only times I'm ever in a bar is when I'm a character in a parody.

    Probably crying over a Coke Zero.

  5. Writing a parody is the best way for saying the truth! Cheers.


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