Saturday, 16 September 2017


DICK – I found this book that’s all full of old fashioned sayings.

TOM – What are sayings and what do they wear?

DICK – Plus fours and a jock strap. You know, things people used to say like: A shit in the hand should have been done behind the bush, or a shit in time saves messy undercrackers.

TOM – Fascinating.

DICK – There’s loads in here:
Poo is thicker than wee.
Caught brown-handed.
Poo the whole nine yards.
More than you can shake a shitty stick at.
Rule of thumb.

TOM – I don’t understand, it’s just talking.

DICK – Well it’s like this, we could say you’re a cunt, or we could say many a mickle mocks a muckle.

TOM – So what’s all that mockle mush about then?

DICK – It means yer a dumb cunt.

TOM – I don’t get it.


DICK – Dumb cunt.

Saturday, 15 July 2017

TOM – You written a new poem then Dick?

DICK – That’s right snot face. It’s the canine testicles.

TOM – Is that what it’s called?

DICK – No, my dumb little friend, that means it’s the dog’s bollocks, which means it’s fucking brilliant. Thoughtful, insightful, and relevant to the world today.

TOM – Wow! You must be exhausted. Do you want brunch?

DICK – That’s very middle class of you but I'd go some Coco Pops in yak milk.

TOM – No yak milk. Sorry. Will lager be OK?


DICK – Perfect. Being a genius makes you really really hungry. And thirsty.




I’m the king of the shitters
a toilet V-I-P.
It all comes out
big and brown, won’t flush down,
I think it’s all the crap I eat.

Dick is a poemy master genius. Tom is a sock counting wanker. Together they live in a cartoon blunderland.

Saturday, 1 April 2017



TOM – Dick, I’ve just read that new poem from Miss Tina.

DICK – Good ain’t it. I love poems from ladies. They smell nice.

TOM – Should I post it on our bloggy blog thing.

DICK – Of course Tom. I don’t want to stop you from doing your exercises but poems don’t post themselves. Just smell those verbs and all those petalled wordies.

TOM – It’s very deep and meaningful. I’ve heard of hair conditioner, but …


DICK – Hair conditioner is a very nice mid-afternoon drink. I suspect Miss Tina’s poem is about poo coming out of yer bum but I’ve not had time to read it proper yet as there’s been poo coming out of me bum. Let’s read …


“Morning Sickness, 12th Grade”

Graffiti on the wall of the girl’s bathroom stall
Reads, 
“I am the passionate moss of hopeless contradictions that is the human condition” -
And then, 
“I love somewhat deranged”.
I wonder what that means.
I guess it’s better than, 
“Rainbow was here”, 
Or 
“Fuck all ya’ll hoes”.
by Tina Hernandez

A small press published Tina's collection of literary short stories, Twenty Troubled Ladies, and used a short horror story, My Aunt Vicky's House, in a collection by multiple authors. Both are available on Amazon. 

Thursday, 16 March 2017



TOM - Here's a new poem from Mr Ed, Dick.

DICK - Post it up Tom, post it up.

TOM - It's very tiny. I think he's forgotten to send us most of it.

DICK - It's in stylee of a haiku, or as Mr Ed says a scatku.

TOM - Well it's all a bit Chinese to me.

DICK - I think you'll find it's Japanese.

TOM - Well I suppose that's why you're the poetry genius.

DICK - Yes, I am the poetry master. Get posting you sock counting numpty.



After Basho

toilet paper unrolling
one-hand ass wipe—
the sound of poo flushing


by Ed Higgins.

Wednesday, 1 March 2017



DICK - It’s shite being a toon Tom. Some people blame the humans. I don’t, they’re just fuckwits, we, on the other hand were drawn and created by fuckwits. We’re the scum of the earth. Litter. We ain’t even proper drawings. We’re the lowest of the low.


TOM – Inspirational speech by Dick. No wonder we get so screwed-up.