Somewhere between Robin Hood and King Arthur himself, One eyed Odin (ruler of all) decided to make a cunt worthy of legend.

And this is my abode.

27th July 2013

Post with 2 notes

Kübler-Ross Divorce

You stare in silence and disbelief, checking your glass of scotch to confirm how much your drank, counting your pulse whilst trying to breath slowly.
You walk to the bed and lay down. You try to tell yourself the letter isn’t real, just a figment of your imagination, just a bill you’re too tired to make out, or perhaps just a dream.
“Sleep” you will yourself, “Just a dream, everything is fine” You desperately attempt to convince yourself. All in vain.
When you next see her, she is packing. you decide to opt for ignorance and say it’s for a business trip, and the stress of work is what has lead to her being distant, and he being short on time is why she didn’t kiss you goodbye. Again.

Days pass with no sign of her, you’ve wrongly justified her behaviour far too long. You become aggravated at yourself for being so blind, and furious at her for not even trying. Your hate consumes you and soon every detail of her is a target for your anger. You call her at 3am cause you can’t sleep anymore, you call her just to scream non-sensical jumbled words through the red which blinds you in a different way to before.
You resent every second “wasted” with her in the house you currently sit in.


When you finally come to your senses and see the destruction you have caused you back track on the late night calls and beg for forgiveness at a meeting in a public place. You see her for the first time in too long as beautiful as she really is, and you ramble. On and on, grabbing at any promise you know you can’t keep and every gesture you know won’t work. You make stupid claims about an “open marriage” knowing it would destroy you. Not that any of it matters, the reply is always the same.

"I’ve heard it too many times, this is it"

That’s when your heart shatters, or rather when you realise it already has. You recluse fully living inside a smoke filled bottle. Always awake. You think she wouldn’t want you, because no one could. You criticise yourself down to the last millimetre until you feel you’re worthless. You cry until you pass out on a bed made from empty bottles and cigarette butts.

And despite the smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes, one day the air seems fresh when you wake up. You have enough will to clean up your  act along with your mess. You take responsibility and apologise while drinking your first non-alcoholic drink in as long as you care to remember. You attempt to fix burnt bridges when a girl gives you her number, and you realise everything is going to be fine

Tagged: poetryprosearchiveYour wit sir is legendary!

12th July 2013

Post with 1 note

Scottish Gollum is now a thing

That is all

Tagged: give me the precious or i'll glass youya cuntantimonysoulerYour wit sir is legendary!

9th July 2013

Link reblogged from Mutual superiority appreciation society with 3 notes

Mutual superiority appreciation society: Dear Josh,I’ve written and rewritten this a dozen times since I... →


Dear Josh,

I’ve written and rewritten this a dozen times since I promised you an ode. I cannot begin to explain how difficult it is to find to find words that do justice to who you are, what you are, and what you mean to me.

You are my best friend, the only guy in this world I can honestly say will never let me down, the one I turn to when I’m sad and I need racial abuse to cheer me up. You are amazing, in every single way. I hope you know that. (Well you do, cause I tell you all the fucking time).

I love you Josh. I really fucking love you. And I have absolutely no doubt that, if it weren’t for you and all of the fucked up things you do, I wouldn’t be here. I would have had no reason to keep going. I wouldn’t have had a good reason to get out of bed everyday. I wouldn’t have been brave enough to deal with all the shit that has happened or to make the biggest decision of my life (so far).

I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here, cause Skype just ain’t the same. 

Don’t ever change, Josh (except for the getting thin and pretty part). I need you to stick around so that I have a reason to keep carrying on with all of this.

Don’t ever leave me Josh!

All of the loves,

Tim xoxoxoxox

More proof (not that we needed it) that i am better at life than ye!

Tagged: you wit siris legendary!Dudebut i can't evenall of the feels right nowramblememoirsantimonysouler

9th July 2013


Charity, Mate

Sitting down on the sofa, at the end of the week. Unwinding with a beer and a show of humour, when the broadcast is interrupted with a warning of graphic and upsetting scenes. Cue the violins and piano, playing a melancholy tune as the face of a young child, in a desert continent fades up, looking through the camera to me in despair.  There is nothing to him except for the sadness and pain in his eyes. A deep, soft voice talks over the music, describing the image, giving the child a name, immortalising him in my memory, informing me of his short mortality, and his struggle for things we take for granted such as food and water. I am told how he was born diseased, to only contract more disease, to lose his family to this, and grow up an orphan. No education, no prospects.

I am shown living in a barren land, surrounded by danger, living in fear. I see the children growing sick, in hospitals that cannot care for them. Taxes of corrupt governments, never going to help those in need, causing the death of thousands.

I am shown the face of the young child again, this time a single tear running down his face. The voice over tries to convince me the issue here is money, and urges me to send them some to help them solve these problems.

I can’t but sit there and think, if it’s so bad living there… move? And if they can afford a camera, and a regular advert spot, surely they can afford some food? Stop making me feel guilty and sort it the fuck out!

Tagged: poetryprosenon-fictionthis isn't racist!or uncalled forin anywayI'm sure tim approvesand linkyand to less of an extentJimYOUR WIT SIR IS LEGENDARY!

30th June 2013

Post reblogged from Mutual superiority appreciation society with 8 notes



We hath arrived

30th June 2013

Post with 18 notes

Sean poured himself another generous measure of Jamesons. He sighed heavily to himself as he realised the ice cubes had melted already. “Better get some ice,” he said to himself, “It’s never the same warm.” He proceeded to get up and walked towards the freezer. The interior of the freezer welcomed him with a surge of cold air, it relaxed him almost as much as the whiskey itself. He grabbed the tray of ice cubes, smacked it on the counter, and dropped three cubes into his glass, then returned the tray.

Read More

Tagged: Prosefictionbare fucking mission and liberties to read fam

30th June 2013

Post with 43 notes

Eulogy of a disregarded bastard

A Harlot of a mother,
Seeded too early in life,

A bastard baby,
Removed from the bosom too soon,

An unwanted boy,
Blamed for the mistakes too quickly,

A rejected child,
Removed from the social circles brashly,

An emotionless husk,
Hurt too easily,

An isolated man,
obeying too readily,

A passed spirit,
Dismissed too effortlessly,

A funeral service,
emptied too rapidly

A supposed “loved one”,
Forgotten to Swiftly.

Tagged: poetry

30th June 2013

Post with 1 note

Tim just begged me to come back

"Don’t ever leave me again, Josh!"
My life is better than yours, especially if you are a starving third world child

Tagged: antimonysouler

23rd June 2013

Post with 2 notes

So many mixed emotions for tomorrow

Tagged: exciteddreadhappysadjustallofthemwhy does it leaves us precious?antimonysouleryour wit siris legandary!

21st June 2013

Post with 1 note

It’s times like these I’ll miss the most

The drunken phone calls, though a rarity, are the best part of drinking.

Tagged: You got foiled by lack of foiled wrapping!I wish monday would happenbut tuesday can fuck offbernads watch goddammitI mean Allah damn it