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Steven Mullaney Some shoddy piece of card means nothing! If you love me, bake me a cake!
14 Feb 2010
Steven Mullaney hates Christmas parties, I feel sick; all that ‘being nice’ stuff - I really shouldn’t drink the free red wine.
30 Dec 2009
Steven Mullaney Feels this pending hangover is going to be as welcome as a Jehovah Witness with Syphilis knocking on the door at six in the morning.
27 Dec 2009
Steven Mullaney Oh, how I hate you. I hate you so much it gives me energy. I have to get up early in the morning just to hate you because there's not enough time in the day!
25 Dec 2009
Steven Mullaney I can put up with a lot of things; hip hop music about lip gloss, people that wear Mickey Mouse hands on hats whilst dancing to the alphabet song, people that think Cliff Richard actually exists. But Jesus Christ! How does one justify selling a Christmas dinner with only ‘ONE’ pig in blanket?
21 Dec 2009
Steven Mullaney Not a problem that can't be cured with a little red wine, except leprosy perhaps.
13 Dec 2009
Steven Mullaney Is feeling as random as a pink elephant eating a banana peel in a pool of spatulas baby! x
21 Oct 2009
Steven Mullaney Help, NO WINE LEFT, head sobering, reminiscences forming, what is happening to me! Help me!!
19 Oct 2009
Steven Mullaney Is a bad person, has always been, and yet you people are always surprised!
21 Sep 2009
Steven Mullaney Hasn’t been this puzzled since Mr Bailey showed him a kiwifruit in 1998
20 Sep 2009
Steven Mullaney thinks there’s too many people in this world, only really need about six.
29 Aug 2009
Steven Mullaney is never going outside again... unless I need someplace to throw up, which may be very soon thanks to this perpetual hang-over
22 Aug 2009
Steven Mullaney is not amused, Facebook is broken, wonder if MySpace will take me back? I’ll buy some flowers.
16 Aug 2009
Steven Mullaney It’s all your fault I’m drunk, look at you all, all over the place like a nest of pigs! If I wasn’t trapped here I wouldn’t have so much to blot out.
31 July 2009
Steven Mullaney This little piggy stayed home
14 July 2009
Steven Mullaney Run, run, as fast as you can! You can't catch me I'm the Gingerbread Man!
27 June 2009
Numerous born and countless dead, in a world of dreams and nightmares, it’s crowded in here. Put the milk in the cup first, your divergence is the testimony to your madness. Pick a cat and provoke a fight, hands on table, lips pursed, and, go! Retreat, then, into the hours of night, which is your deluded haven, “be polite”. Society is a symphony of logic, but only on paper, it burdens the creative individuals that can potentially generate the spark, which becomes the flicker of light in a room of darkness. The weirdoes become eccentric, the eccentrics become geniuses; don’t underestimate what you cannot evaluate. Time continues regardless, you don’t, so ‘heads up’, judgement day is a comin’, accept the leaflet, and donate the two pounds. You know how to whistle, don't cha Steve? Heaven is paradise, but for who is the fantasy tailored? Oh, and duck! Ha, you actually believe something sympathetic can willingly conceive a concept such as Hell? Lies! Lie more times than a cheap Japanese watch. God, you are submissive to the oppression of mass, fear not the Spanish Inquisition. Mackerel sky and mares' tails make lofty ships carry low sails. All the cats will go and the million pigeons remain, ready to be hooked on new religions, clip your wings and fly to Daddy. Existence is a toss of a nickel. The fizz is in decline, gulp it quick or slurp it flat; you can’t quantify life, don’t squander it in trepidation. They do do though don’t they though? Patriotic vitriolic potatoes in uniform make horrific cheesecake. The field is overflowing with sheep, thank you Mr Jintao, don’t ask Reagan for help; he has a cold. Four horsemen with an arrow of time, good show Friedrich Heine, shame about Thor, must have been looking for North. Welcome to the Oscillatory Universe; are you ready for The Crunch? Look in my bag of entropy, there’s a Big Rip; you can blame Caldwell for that. Uh oh, St John is on the punch again, oh look at who’s the messiah; “it’s all who you know”. It’s getting hot, no cold, HIV, HMV, oh mind your step, there’s a Meteorite there, just push the red button and it’ll all go away. Say what you see Mr Chips, “fat lady singing?” and so our survey says *uh uh* No sorry; death is not on the ‘to do’ list. Just row your boat down the stream, life is just a dream. And in 2012, when you’re up to your knees in snow sunbathing twenty-four foot under the sea, raise your glass to the invading aliens and say “chin chin old chap”. 
