Friday, 16 October 2009

Solid gold hits



Like a tangerine on steroids, I am all over.

I am building my brand. The 'Chris East' brand. I need some merchandise.



Here is a poem
Father of the Bride

I am scared of your dad
He laughed as
He threatened to kill me in my sleep
In your sleep
I told him 'fuck off'
With his hand on my shoulder
And mouth against my ear
He said quietly
'I want to make love to you'

4 comments:

Jessica Maybury said...

ewwww and also ooOoohh

wordsforguns said...

That should be a sticker.

Turn youself into a myth.

Feel the power as your hands swell.

Rebecca said...

Chris. There is a big awful man in the office today with a big terrible voice. He isn't usually here and I hate him and his voice. 'What can i do?' i thought. BRAINWAVE!!! i can listen to Chris! I am listening to Chris! At work!!!!!

red newsom said...

scary scary poem