lucygraywoolff

April 15, 2011

‘A wee Bit Cramped’ @ Lazy Lohan’s in Edinburgh

Filed under: SHANES SEMEN, treading a fine line — lucygraywoolff @ 7:24 pm

A wee bit cramped

@ Lazy Lohan’s

And so says

The 4 feet 4 inch

Dublin tramp

On google.

he who lays

Rack and ruin.

Makes a change!

He’s usually found

Around

This time

Writing of sensitive data.

Which he’d previous taped

After mind raped!

Pro rata.

At a pinch,

At a cinch.

This wee menstrual cramp,

Who likes to stamp

His little Napoleon mark

Fae

M**rh**se Mengele

Gassed Practice,

Where

There

Is ne’er

A practice manager.

Only part time staff.

Medical receptionists

Double up as a nurse.

Nurses double

As troubled

Internet 9 month trained

Counsellors.

Whae

Fae?

Hey

Its now [1992] defunct

Sunk

This…www.personadevelopment.com.

He claims he’s a tutor

Like at Edinburgh uni

Aye right

My ass.

The lying shite.

Desperate to be recognised.

The undersized

Mal nourished

Badly nurtured

Sink estate Dubliner.

He, who owns

To more psychological scarring

Barring

None!

Diowns

The fact.

The wee stank

Does wank

Off at every pair of tits

That wobble in.

The walking wee sin

Spends all morning at Gregg’s,

For his meat-filled sub.

Nae wonder he cannae

See his wully.

Fat rounded

F**k.

Pity his psyche was not so grounded.

Just his luck

He’s cross patch ‘Rumpelstiltskin’ the dwarf.

Tells the women

Not to wear heels,

Cos they then steals

A march on him.

Dwarfs him!

Get it!

He leaves them [interminable] waiting,

Anxious, nervous,

Fretting,

Begetting

Kittens.

The little fuck

Who’s not worth a fuck.

Gets his kicks

Seeing

Them squirming.

Being

Present and hiding

Biding in his cubby hole

The one who drags his arsehole

One foot off the ground.

Emotions sure

Begorrah and bejabers

Run high

When one is worried.

Which usual means when HE

Gets his sweaty mitts

On them they’re ready to tell the truth.

The stoopid oirish tit!

Where is he?

Crushed [nondescript] clothes

And brothel creepers

Boys size seven.

(Saves him a fortune

The balloon).

Psst (he actually does think

This minscule walking stink

The ladies are fascinated by his throat

The randy little goat

Thinks they are turned on by he

He stands on a high chair

In his Gorgie tenemment practising Freud)

So he covers it with a highnecked teeshirt,

In case they jump his bones.

The bodies (he’s disposed of) groans

From the graves.

They are demolishing this crummy place

Pity they miss out this germ ridden ‘surgery’

Where one is lucky to emerge alive.

Where one’s as black as the earl of hell’s waistcoat’

The whole lot

Should be run aground, rounded up and shot.

And yet one notices they

Themselves would not go there

To be treated.

Rather slit their wrists

(How many attempts for you shaney bhoy?)

Oh, deep joy

You missed the artery.

There’s no COUNSELLING LIT!

No CORE!

Eh, shane!

Can YOU ever tell the truth?

Do you KNOW what truth is?

‘Small’ wonder the oirish

Gets such a tinker name.

Fie for shame

On you.

You

Walking sad sack.

Sure

Are blue

Aren’t you?

And the quacks are just walking tits.

‘Doc ‘ been and gone and dunn

it,

Cut of a wummin’s leg!

The WRONG one

Folks.

He can’t even give *blood tests

As

And when required

The ass.

He’s so mired

In candy pink ties

And pharmaceutical freebies

New cars!

+++++weeks trades holidays

At his time share.

But @  his lair

At mmg

You see

Ignorance is bliss.

He’s hit and miss.

(*the lady required 5 pints of blood immediately)

As to buddy budd.

He’s fascinated with women’s fudd

‘but its only my ingrown toenail’!

And as to quack shitdozy,

He’s laid back and cozy.

Sat on his black ass

Smoking [purely medicinal] grass

To get thru the ‘long’ day.

He cannae

Cope

Wi the dope

Heads.

Tightening the noose on his rope!

The Heroin freaks.

The alcoholic

Sickos.

The ones wi the dose

Of the clap.

His trap

Is firmly closed in case he catches it.

So him and his semblance

Of badly trained geeks,

They escape to self locking doors.

Pace the pock marked floors,

Publicly discussing a case,

(wi windaes

Open)

Drinking coffee

Laced

Wi Oirish whiskey.

As to Tr**s*re

He’s too busy trying to measure

The size of vaginas.

Baldy pate glowing.

Nodding

With a knowing

Nod.

Shitdozy joins he,

Two shiny lamplights, two bods.

(Oh wait a baby died fae

Croup.

I couldnae

Be bothered getting myself or the group

To see to it!

We live in suburbia.

Miles away

Fae

Sink estate scum.

And the walking bum

Where the shebeens and rum

Flows free.

(Looked at yourselves in the mirror of late)

PS: Did you know ‘doctors’ – even ill trained ones, such as the above,

For the love

Of God

Cannot be done,

[Not even ‘dunn’]

With negligence

AND causing premature death

By NEGLECT & MALPRACTICE.

They are covered

Smothered

Kissed

By Death

By the GMC.

They own to no conscience.

Swan off to the Seychelles

Dole out anti-d’s

If you so plez

And send the WOMEN

To a 4 foot 4 inches walking disease

Who rapes in every which way but loose

…Then the lies,

And boy they are whoppers.

Real heart stoppers

Start flowing

Fae the menstrual curse.

Big whoppers

To the SPSO!

To the courts!

To the polis!

Enough to drown the wee man and t’others

Who joined in the lies.

They disguise

Their negligence

(Hire a practice manager in late october 2006)

No pro-forma forms,

NO confidentiality clauses,

No counselling literature,

No CORE…double barrelled clark

He’s too busy

Theyre too illiterate

So sayeth the Dubliner wee tit!

What a lark.

Capturing his individual photographs

To place onto a shared landscape

To impress

To ape

The baps of gutterworth,

Lutterworth.

He’d wank

Their shanks

Them off

Just to gain a little recognition,

Fame

And acclaim.

And of course spanking

The spandex

Rent boys up causewayside.

*This will be my death knell.

Swell

I say.

At least it will come out

At a shout

How warped

This place is

And the dysfunctional semen

Who frequent it

And that is NOT the patients

Of this gawd-damn awful quacks

Who knew he was lying

Eh shitdozy and been and gone and dunn it)

So they are shying

From the truth.

He left me with HIS childhood trauma

His psychological shite

His burning issues

And tissues

Of lies

The wee mental fright

Who was raped by his da

As his ma

Looked on

I saw it all.

His mental maul

I wish he was dead

I curse the day the gorgie dalry (ite) was born

(june 11 1966

bet he carries the three 6’s under his ronin keating hair too)

and I know his address too)

Yes folks the polis and / or bent, warped lawyers gave a sex offender a

Victim’s address.

God bless

You guess

Right

The wee fright

Followed me you see

Looking for ‘no more broken willies’

The sillies

I’ll spank it out of them.

As to vagismus

I’ll sort it out.

He’s a pornographer without a computer

The flesh and blood in front of he

You see

he gets his sick

Kicks.

bet he carries the three 6’s too.

I WANT THE WORLD TO KNOW

Filed under: SHANES SEMEN — lucygraywoolff @ 4:09 pm

I WANT THE WORLD TO KNOW

A RAPIST DOES HAPPEN TO KNOW

MY CURRENT ADDRESS.

WELL I’LL BE BLESSED

WHO COULD HAVE TOLD HIM

THE WALKING SIN?

THE POLICE?

HIS BENT BTOS?

WHO GOES

BY THE NAME OF LAWYERS!

THEY CAN SWING FOR THEIR BLOOD

MONEY

NOTHING BUT CRUD

IF ER BOSS GFACE GOT ANY REDDER

I WAS AFRAID HE’S BUST AN ARTERY

WELL WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE

I’D RATHER SWALLOW SHANE’S SEMEN

FUNNY

FROM SUCH A SMALL GUY

4 FEET FOUR

AND NOT AN INCH MORE.

SUCH A LOT OF COME

EXPLODED.

MY HOW HIS FAT BIM

WOBBLED WHEN HE GOT EXCITED GALS.

“THERAPY???????”

Filed under: treading a fine line — Tags: — lucygraywoolff @ 11:05 am

HE’S SQUATTING
TEETH ROTTING
IN [RAISED] CHAIR.
RONAN KEATING HAIR
ELBOWS AKIMBO
– BUT HEY LOOK, LO
AND BEHOLD,
STUBBY HANDS
UNDER THERE,
THE QUACKS’ DESK
OUT OF SIGHT.
HE LOOKS A FRIGHT
TWISTS
OF WRISTS
MOVING FRANTIC.
A FLICK
A LICK
SPITTLE
OF HIS RUBBER LIPS.
TONGUE TRIPS
O’ER YELLOWED TEETH.
HIS TUBBY
SUB-FILLED PAUNCH
STRAINS
AGIN HIS GUT.
(GREGG’S IS HIS FAVE SHOP)
BUT
PROTRUDING –
INTRUDING
REIGNS
A ROLL OF LARD.
OFF WHITE
TEE SHIRT
WITH-HOLDING
THE INEVITABLE SPILLING OUT.
RESEMBLES A WEE SATED TROUT
PROTRUDING EYES GAZE UNSEEN.
MEAN AND INDISCRIMINATE GREY,
INTENT ON WHERE ‘HE’S’ NEVER
EVEN BEEN.
A WOMAN’S BODY
IS A MYSTERY TO HE,
YOU SEE.
THE ONLY ONE’S HE VIEWED
WAS AS A NURSE IN
RUDOLF STEINER
PERTH
WHERE HE CAUGHT
THE THIRD CLASS
BERTH
AND DUBLIN FERRY
TO MAKE MERRY
WITH THE FEMALE [DRIED UP] GERIATRICS.
OLD
PRUNES
HE’S ONLY SEEN NAKED RUINS
NOT LUSCIOUS PLUMP, JUICES FLOWING
HE’S UNKNOWING.
HIS IMAGINATION IS UP TO ALL SORTS OF TRICKS
THE UNDERSIZED MICK
CAN’T WAIT TO ESCAPE
TO THE PRIVATE QUACKS LOO
TO RELIEVE HIS MISERY
BOO
HOO.

*”SO TELL ME, A GUTTERAL WHISPER ESCAPES, LASCIVIOUS STRAINED, “ABOUT YOUR FATHER….”
SLEAZES WEE SEAIN
THE NO BRAIN.
*(MOST MIND DEPRAVED AND SEXUAL RAVED PERVS @ BAPS DEAL WITH THE OTHER
MOTHER.

March 29, 2011

THE DIARY OF DIARRHOEA

Filed under: treading a fine line — lucygraywoolff @ 8:07 pm

When we arrived

At this godawful dive

A feeling of foreboding

Began eroding

Our brain.

before the will

To live didst drain

We took the bull by the horn

Torn

‘tween

Staying

Or going

‘Twas blowing our mnid.

Then we find

The [butcher shop] quack’s

MMG

Mengele’s Mass Genocide

Practice

Practise the art

Of chopping off ladies legs

Right,

Left and centre.

Racks

Up the deaths.

The lowest rung

Shit(e)

dozy

Done

It

Bun

even a Chick

Treasure

Island

 

 

March 26, 2011

Bent, masonic Scottish coppers, bent masonic Scottish sheriffs and courts, bent, masonic [non-court] solicitors, the smallest man in Christendom

Filed under: seain and eamonn what a pair of eejits, treading a fine line — lucygraywoolff @ 12:13 pm

BEWARE ALL YOU GOOD FOLKS (UNLESS YOU TOO WANT A SAMARITAN FOB, STUCK THROUGH YOUR LETTERBOX) WHO RESIDE WITHIN SCOTLAND AND IN PARTICULAR….. THE ESPECIAL AREA OF NORTH EDINBURGH. HE, THE WEE MAN, ONE OF THE DAMNED RUNS LOOSE LIKE WATERY STOOLS …UNSCHOOLED AND UNEDUCATED AND UNNOTICED.HE WOULD KILL FOR RECOGNITION.  HERE’S A LAUGH LADIES… THINKS ALL THE FEMALES WANT TO SLEEP WITH HIM….WE’D SQUASH THE FECKING MIDGET…..

If you write [no holds barred] 100% poetry and have always done throughout your life; realistically own to a distinct turn of phrase, which is truthful to the point of no return; and are directly related to Yeats…yeah YOU did not know that especial one did you seain john anthHony Bucky he who hails from a Dublin sink estate and born June 11 1966. Address c/oa firm of non-court bent and warped solicitors in Hanover Street, Edinburgh! Pity YOU put your address on calma remember that great company [started in 2005] which folded in less than 2 years..little fucking wonder YOU dumped your poisonous and toxic crap upon me……. ‘second in command’ and  THE lesser partner’ to rick, the bald headed prick = business = (counselling in the workplace) and make absolutely sure you give them core for smellor-(double barrelled) clarke’s the el, capitaine of the high seas benefit and counselling literatutre and confidentiality clause to sign…they are paying through the nose after all…unlike the Moorhousian area of deprivation toe rags, who deserve NOWT! An oirish leprechaun running a business, give me a break. Away and tar a road, navvy!

By the way folks this particular and above refrain is in relation to the most unethical, bent and twisted (in all ways) wee uneducated cunt ‘working’…(skiving more like)  in North Edinburgh since 1994″ and Ive been here eleven years so must know what I am doing’…..”!like to see my weiner…oh wait until I find it!’

Then suddenly an oirish, clod hopper ‘taller’ Dublin (what again) copper who have been in the force for 28 years…big fecking wowsers (impressed, moi???) And he who owns to a disturbing multifaceted personality. He will practically sit on your knee, touching [knees] distance, grabbing your arm, looking at your wristwatch (upchuck and smarm) ‘I loike looking into your eyes’  then on the second occasion physically threaten you, scream in your face, stop shaking hands, push past you, lunge at you, raging cunt. The poor six footer oirish dublin eamonn keen cannot even spell or write correctly. He even places an extra ‘N’ in the name eamonn, jaysus) Trying to impress the ladies, methinks he stinks to high Heaven! And folks guess what, eamonn keen is psychic because HE KNOWS one owns to an Non Harassment Order well before YOU do! And yet claims to know nought of civil courts!Lies, lies, and even more lies!

Now he’s running scared, cos he’s been warned off; the sheriffs and bent [bacp] solicitors who pay for the wee fellow’s [seain’s] case and will ensure YOU DO NOT own access to a lawyer and go on to produce fake death threats IN YOUR HUBBY’S NAME ……funny thing is wee seain, the masturbator and violent sex offender who was given HIS victim’s address, followed she and threatened she in turn; he is only four foot four inches and eamonn the strapping oirishman must have eaten HIS mince and TATTIES, the spud cruncher growing up….No TB there on his side of the tracks living in a sink estate in Dublin’s minging streets in the 1960’s eh, seain.

My mother, the best violin teacher I ever witnessed was a great one to curse people who deserved same. Well guess what…….gorgie / dalry  john [seain] john anthHony B she passed same onto I and it works…hope you and eamonn keen fry in Hell before long…..devil mend you…ashamed of your parenthood eh seainy cannot even say you were baptised, can you……as we would say you were squatting at the fire when your tinker drunken guinness swilling da was born………did you grow up in a drawer and a cot until you were thirty? Didn’t cost your tinker ma much in clothes.

From Diaries to Diarrhoea

Filed under: no brain shain — lucygraywoolff @ 11:42 am

ODE TO A WEE NO BRAIN

DUBLIN SEAIN

We’ve been dumped

Upon from a great height.

Look out family

Here comes more lumpen

Pumping

Shiite.

Firstly the Moir’s

On the books of a’

Criminal lawyers!

Then the Rollo’s

Who strollo

Through our life,

Causing endless

Mayhem

And heartrending strife.

 

Then,

Ahem,

Dare I say

Today?

‘Tis wee

Mini-me

(In more ways than one)

Shane,

(seain / john anthHony) B.

An unimportant, uneducated

X rated

No brain.

Totally insane.

‘Were all mad in some way

Or t’other,’

(Oh the steepling of  freudian fingers

Lingers

On his crushed crotch.

Up a notch!

Pursing

Rubber lips.

Slip

And slurp.

Bursting

You see.

‘Ah, you want to sleep with me.’

And I, though plug

Ugghh

Ugly as sin

Do charm.

I smarm

I rock

I am armed

With a miniscule cock.

So I have another wank.

Now let’s be frank

(I’d never find

you behind

the bed covers.

You’d be smothered

Without your child cot

If you shot

Your load.)

An internet based

Spaced

Out

Penis bated

Masturbated

Counsellor.

With no personal therapy.

I ask you

Nae wonder he’s so blue.

Man alive!

In 2005

His newly fledged

Company went to the wa

So the heid the ba

Took it out on me.

You

Do

See.

Dumped HIS toxic

Transference

In my direction.

He ought to be sectioned.

Lied

And cried

To the lutterworth crew.

I didn’t say I (kiss ass) had a Psych

Degree.

Nae wonder he was blue.

Boo

Hoo.

A female with more brains than YOU!

Before the liar leprechaun

Faked death threats

Fabricated

X rated counselling lit;

The pervy shit

The crushed beige

Beige

Rage

Corded weenywagger.

Who was desperate to garner a suitable wage

For CALMA (which went to the wall.)

The under age teenage shagger.

The midgets.

The dwarves.

The doc Mr been and gone

And dunn it.

The, black as the earl

Waistcoat crabbit cunt.

Shithozda.

This monstrous

MMG

Which housed the crabby puss

You see.

Namely named Mengele’s

Mass

Genocide

Practice.

This was less

A doctor’s,

Than a Nazi camp

And the wee Friday 1966 tramp,

Tramped

Through his mess

(of his own making)

Baking

Shiting

Dumping

Farting

Poison

Vitriolic

Colic

Intestinal erupting

Upon the vulnerable

The meek and the mild.

My, how his mass probs ran wild.

He, the runt

Did dunt

He did punt

The wee cunt

Did use

Abuse

Misuse

Confidential

Private

Information.

He thought his station

In life

Was to cause excess

Strife.

He lived in tenement

Gorgie.

Meant

No life

For the wee man

From Dalry

Yet Shane sure didst try

To get famous.

His mongoloid puss

Was always red

With rage.

Anguish was his wage.

The patient

Client

Compliant

WAITING

Anticipating

People in Moorhouse

The Poorhouse

Began to dread

His coming

666

Tom Mix

Did not have a look-in

He was a walking sin.

(shane b’s psychological, undersized physical, emotional,

mental, spiritual and verbal diarrhoea…a condition with fluid faeces)

He split

Ripped

The populace

Into pieces

The troll under the red bridge

With the mind similar in ilk to a subzero fridge.

Evil little nobody

A fellow of NO degree.

I saw you see

Seainy

No brainy

I viewed

I imbued

Your flawed

Clawed

Desperation

At your lack in station

In life

Your psychological scarring

Barring

None.

Dodgy [monster filled]dense

Monstrous transference.

(How dare you

Leave me stuck

With your bad luck

Blues.)

This

(his

folks)

Fake

Make

Out

Psychology Degree

From Uni College Dublin.

You [don’t] see.

(Cos it don’t exist

Which sure makes HIM pissed.)

Copyright held @lgw2011

February 24, 2011

Filed under: mensatl mauling and shaymas — lucygraywoolff @ 2:37 pm

ODE TO EAMONN K***E & HIS DIRTY ROTTEN SCOUNDREL TRICKS

I was dissed

By the Irish.

Two evil bastards.

Wish they’d missed

Me out.

Now there’s a surprise

All you guys

Out there.

Not!!

Two pissed

Off [so-called] men

For the price of one.

The sons

Of a gun.

Arseholes,

Who tried to shout, scold and bowl

Me over.

One a six footer,

Thinks he’s so handsome

Only to his mum!

Yet so terribly vain.

A real pain

In the proverbial butt!

T’other one a leprechaun

Name of Sh**n.

A looter

Of women’s vaginal secrets.

Anon

Oh, Eamonn you ‘beane’

And gone and done it

Still pretending to look for Mary

F****

Quite scary

He is!

Can’ t spell

To save himself

To boot.

The ignorant oirsih coot!

And wee

Breckinridge

The mini-me

So free

With the confidences

Of M

Wi the mind of an unwashed fridge.

Two prime

Wasters

Not worth a goddamn dime.

One a midge

One an uneducated giant.

Oh I wasn’t compliant

By any manner or means.

Far be it for me.

Owning an IQ of almost 203

They, pretending same

Intelligence…not!

One tried to show me

With his miniscule weiner.

What he used to pee.

The other locked me up

Without access

To a lawyer

Like a lost pup.

Both bent,

I kent

It all along.

They two, only happy in an adoring throng!

To me they should be wiped

From the face of the earth

They create only a strong pong.

February 20, 2011

The Spandex Brigade

Filed under: the bike boys and their after-ride joys — lucygraywoolff @ 12:40 pm

Do tell

Have you seen them

Their [flowery] perfume smell.

Every one a bender

A lender

Of penis

Bruce,

He courts a spicy smell….Spruce

Jerome,

Left his brain at home

Ruari

And Regi

Who resembles a veggie

A southg american 16 year old

sender

Of I’m waiting

Anticipating

Your next move.

Oh, my

My

Fly

Boy

You fit

Snug

as a bug

In a rug

In my groove!

How I approve.

Don’t toy

With me

None too bright!

Wheeling

Dealing

Battling with smog

And carbonised fog

Neat clad bums wiggling

Penises nestled, wriggling

They resemble

Ballet dancers in tight

Black tights

Bums hoisted high

A  ridiculours sight

Most look a fright

With alien goggles

The Milk Race begins

They dont care who wins

Their prize is in the afterlight

Of a black satin bed

In darkest night!

 

February 1, 2011

The Napoleon Syndrome BY SHAYMAS BLARNEYSTANE

Filed under: mensatl mauling and shaymas — Tags: — lucygraywoolff @ 6:29 pm

I work as a “service manager”

And proudly sport

Greasy Ronan Keating hair.

Used to be  a “head counsellor”

For the NHS

……..No less.

Makes me sound important,

When I squawk

And talk

And rant

And soil my skants

With excitement.

I pretend to tutor and advise

At the University of Edinburgh

Ah but what I court

Is all pure lies.

When all I am is a down and out

Fake

A charlatan

Whom people despise.

Using,

Abusing,

Misusing

All  information

Cos I’m allowed thru my station.

I ought to quake

And visibly shake

In case I’m found out

As I tout

And spout

And fllout

FAKE QUALIFICATIONS

My fake wares.

I stares at tits

All day

But what the hey

Tis a benefit

In life.

Copyright held @lgw2011

Will He [SHAYMAS BLARNEYSTANE] Ever Let Go

Filed under: mensatl mauling and shaymas — lucygraywoolff @ 6:07 pm

I was asked today

Was “he” a man of substance,

Or a dwarf of no measure.

He, who doled out no pleasure.

Who pierced a lance

Thru my brain

Then I discover

And uncover

He only became a sen nurse

In 1992

during which time he internet [counsellor] trained

The mini me no brained

dwarf.

So i scoff

A man of substance

Nae chance.

Just looking for a bit of fame

Acclaim

And recognition.

Never filled with contrition

A mini monster of the deep.

Where monsters lurk – don’t sleep.

(Psst, folks he’s so scared

People dared

To find out

About

His lack of training.

Couldn’t make it to doctor level…

eh Shaymas Blarneystane

I’ll be the bane

Of your life

To pay back all rthe strife

YOU caused.

Copyright held @lgw2011

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