Wednesday, 29 July 2009

The Promise

Tomorrow I will be all over you like an invading force. Shock and awe.
Tomorrow I will be beautiful. We will be beautiful together.

Tomorrow I will regale you with stories of lust and woe, joy and despair. And that's just the fucking Jubilee Line.

Tomorrow I will show you a test I once devised to find out if people are gay. It works 100%.

Tomorrow I will play you the Rach #3 while blind-folded and sitting on hot pokers at a piano that only has three notes - two black, one white and a green one.*
(* = This offer to subject to availability)

Tomorrow we will share a secret. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow - you're only a day away.

Tomorrow. And Tomorrow. And Tomorrow. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.
Excuse me but I wrote that without having to check it but I know it's right. Thank you, I will take the pat on the head.

Tomorrow we will share a secret and a laugh.

Tomorrow Never Dies. When Tomorrow Comes. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

I Close My Eyes and Count To Ten
Son Of A Preacher Man.

But enough of Dusty Springfield.

Tomorrow will be a day like no other. That's because today's been shite. Which, if you think about it, kind of gives away what...

What's not labour the point too much...


fleetmonkey said...

Bobster I just did my first brief visit to a gay club in about 3 years - I didn't drink but am still feeling battered by your literary cacophany.


Bobby Cox said...

Ah, cacophany. Named after Lord Cacoph who was a rather chaotic, noisy man who lived in the 14th century in Wales.

Anonymous said...

Tomorrow has come, and is just as shite as our yesterdays.

Why do we do this to ouselves?