Mcfamily feast, four burgers, four large fries, four large cokes, all for $20 bucks.
The family sits around the dinning table. All happy smiles, Mum has the night off.
Kids are happy, dads happy.
Thankyou Mcfamily feast, you surely have put smiles on our happy as fuck family.

The clock ticks and hits 1:04am.
Mum sits lonely in the darkened lounge room, Staring blankly at the muted telly.

No work tomorrow, no work at all anymore,
Kids will need to go to school though. I’ll try not to crash this time.
Sleep now. On the couch. No need to go to bed.
Medication takes its toll.

The McFamily Feast,

A nice way to spend time with my aching children.
The McFamily feast! That’s the answer. We’ll get that tomorrow after school.
It will be a lovely Friday treat for my frightened children.

Awake

Gloomy morning. A little extra medication is required. Take the kids to school. Don’t crash.
Then its off for a few glasses of wine with friends at about lunchtime.
A little extra fun and numbness . Its Friday and its been a big week,
Let the hair down. Couple drinks and extra pills, Its Friday.

I’m sure all mothers do it in order to cope.
No need to take the kids to school tomorrow.
Its gonna be one of those happy as fuck Saturdays.
Maybe ill take the kids to the park.

Running Late.

Get the kids from school,
Then its off to the Mcfamily for the happy as fuck Family meal feast!
Mum needs a break.
Mum doesn’t cook anymore!
Mum needs a fuckin break!

Spaced out.

I’m not over the alcohol limit,
A couple of glasses here a couple there.
Just enough to take the edge off!
Not like the other girls, Acting like sluts.

Speeding.

There’s my kids. They look cold.
There’s no shelter from the rain .
Kids need shelter!

A medicated mother is a good mother

They don’t speak anymore. Medication. They need to increase there medication that’s all.
Like i do. Just a couple more should do the trick.
Talkie, talkie chatty chatty,
Good mothers talk to their children and I talk talk talk because I’m a good mother too.
I’m a good mother too.

Speeding.

Hungry kids need happiness, Fast happiness is good happiness. No need to worry. We are going to get the happiness.

Drive through happiness.

AAAHhhhh. Fuck, Stupid fukin clown, they put it so close to my car.
Well have the Happy as fuck family Feast Please,
With diet coke instead of real coke please.
Got to cut out that evil sugar.
Sugar is bad for you.
Good mothers get diet coke with there Mcfamily feast.
Sugar is evil!

Home sweet home.

And its family time. Time to sit around the dining table as a family and enjoy
this wholesome food. Maybe we should say a prayer?
Happy as fuck Friday.
This medication is taking its toll.
The room spins.
Mum needs a lie down,

Mums Passed out on the couch. The kids hastily grab the cold greasy food from the paper bag,
grab themselves one of the diet cokes and race of into there bedroom.

Awake.

Lights out. Telly on.
Mcfamily Feast, four burgers, four large fries, four large cokes, all for $20 bucks.
The family sits around the dinning table.
All happy smiles, Mum has the night off.
Kids are happy, Dads happy.
Thankyou Mcfamily feast, you surely have put smiles on our happy as fuck family

Consciousness.

Good mothers always regain consciousness.
Staring blankly at the TV the clock hits 1:04am.
Mum reaches into the Mcfamily bag of food.
Pulls out the revolver.
And puts it to her head.

Without the passionate love of youth

i decay.

i decay in screen blue light.

i decay.

Speeding heart. Alcohol mind.

Monday retreat and walk off the weekend.

Tuesday is yet another weekly dysfunctional dream.

Broken.

We sit in rows, charging forth to find the future.

We breath the same hate.

As it destroys us.

alcohol stops at all stations.

Passengers creep,

music blares,

scenery roars.

Moomba is another new thing she has introduced me to. Its a lot more fun then getting wasted at home. Wasting time. That’’s something I”ve done plenty of. I’ve been getting so belted recently, booze, drugs, The shit job I got does nothing for me, no aspirations here my good Sir. Just Lucy. A small amount of cash. And about 5 E’s.

“For you they are free. How many would you like?” Just halves for each of her friends she says. “No problem.”

I was dying to make her happy. She was one cool thing, straight up! To cool for school, sharp as a blade. She taught me a lot about business and drugs, relationships and reality. She was a dash older then me but her wisdom was well beyond. I”ve got a lot of catching up to do if I”m to keep this little bouncing flower girl. That’s a def. I’d need to be at my best. Keep the mind healthy. Become strong.. like her.

Blue King Brown, The fucking best band. “Ive never heard of them” i confess. There on in half an hour, They”ll get us going. Her friend insists. She’’s gorgeous too, like all her friends and through the bubbling of E I manage to respond. “Sounds Good, I’m in.” But first lets hit that ride. The one that drops at drastic speed like a crashing elevator with a severed cord, screeching to a jagged holte. Its called the ”Drop Zone”, and its shiny as fuck. “Who will go with me?” I shout excitedly. Mika is keen but Lucy and the others are not.

The view from up here is peaceful. Looking out at the stars with our legs dangling over our seats. Numb and hanging out in the sky. What a great place to escape the crowds and think some fresh thoughts. I’m looking for Lucy but cant see her. I’d rather be up here with her.

“Scared of heights?” Mika asks.

No sign of her. Looking at the people racing around below, my mind also begins to race with concern. Then it hits me. This thing with Lucy feels fragile. She has started distancing herself from me.

Paranoid thoughts continue..
Lucy touched me only once today that was when she was asking for drugs. That’s a clear sign of retraction. She hasn’t called me all week. She is going to cut our ties.. Fuck.

Why is she doing this? All I’ve been doing recently is getting fucked up. I downed almost two bottles of vodka at her BBQ last week. What a fucking disgrace I was. Acting like a well drunk fool.

Im struck with a rush of dread, and a frantic need to repair my faults.
I’ve got to straighten out before its to late. Cut out alcohol. And find some stability.

I’ll fix it. It will be cool again like when we first met.

Mika breaks my thoughts, “Hey we been up here for a while now, this things gonna drop.” CHING! VVVWOOOOSSSHHHH!

For me a car is too much responsibility. To many lights and signs, traffic jams, and registration tickets, windscreen wipers and oil changes.. No Thanks.

Just strap a helmet on me, dress me in fluorescent, glow in the dark rags, give me a shot of tequila and put me on a push bike. And send me on my way. Good morning Sir, And how are you?

On your cyclo early morning adventures, you”ll come across millions of impatient metal cells crookedly lined up, waiting for the green light to release them. Fuck that, Its too submissive. Its good to have a little danger and out of control moments in the morning’s. Burn some energy and show the motorists how its done.

Motorists in the morning or at anytime for that matter, are like wasted zombies with temperature control! Indicating politely with occasional jolting outbursts of rage. You”ve got to watch them. They have been known to get violent and they are not your friend.

The cold morning air will wake you up. The frantic pace you keep gets the blood moving. The fear of colliding keeps the brain on edge. Travel fast on the downhills, through the channels of vehicles and then straight through the red lights. There’s no need to obey the same laws as the motorists. You are a different breed. You have no registration on a cyclo. No rules here. No helmet or life insurance either. It feels free and a little reckless.

But keep calm. Feel free to take it easy for a bit and enjoy the cool morning air. Try not to function entirely like an unhappy gorilla on the loose. This could give motorists the hint that us cyclists are maniac’s releasing all stockpiled doses of daily anger far too early.