i understand people may not understand, perfectly, the language used, it is written using the intonations of my home town of Cannock, back in England, which has a peculiar idiom. It is English, but somewhat truncated, due to a mix of lunacy & bad genes. But there is melody there & i thought it might be an interesting exercise for readers to make of it what they will from the context & sound.

Flicking through the channels with Pa

(A night much like any other, bored & skint a son sits with his remote-control-hogging father who flicks through the channels like a slow motion metronome, never able to make a decision, never watching anything but menu bars, for hours at a time. There’s never anything on.)

Son: “If you don’t just put something on I am going to make you eat that remote | starting with the batteries.”
Pa: “Pick summ’t theeennnnnn!”
Son: “I told ya | anyfin’—there The Secret Life of Animals.”
Pa: “Wot d’ya wonna know ‘bout that toss for?”
Son: “I fink the more cogent question Pa | is why wouldn’t I wanna know their secrets?”
Pa: “Well seems a load o’old bollox to me | pick summat else.”
Son: “Y’am jus’ gonna do that for everyfin’ in’t ya? There Christian Sermons by Alf Person: for Enduring any Hardship.”
Pa: “Now y’m teckin the piss ay ya— the God Channel? Sod that.”
Son: “O | ow’z about the BFG film? That’s you that iz.”
Pa: “O ay yow the comedian: Big Fat Git is that it? I’m gonna look like fuckin’ Jupiter for me hols in Summer.”
Son: “D’ya mean Phill Jupitus? Y’say that ev’ry year & seem to jus’ be gerrin’ fatter. Anyway. What guz thru yer ‘ead? You tellin’ me ya dow know why y’am the BFG?”
Pa: “It has t’be summat ‘bout bein’ fat?”
Son: “Y’really dow know?”
Pa: “The anticipation is murder | tell me y’sarky git!”
Son: “Think y’can hack the jip?”
Pa: “Just spit it out!”
Son: (Smirking) “Botched Facial Gland.” (Son instantly drops to the floor clutching his stomach in a fit of laughter & Pa spits out the beer he just sipped (which the Son cunningly waited for him to drink) & also jets out a loud gurgle of laughter that would wake the Minotaur.)
Pa: “(Recovering himself) “Y’am a funny fucker sumtimez in’t ya?”
Son: “I av me moments.”

Posted by:DPM

DPM is an idea-logue (sic) and object-oriented speculative realist, attempting to be response-able in an irresponse-able society.

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