This is the very first SNOGGO adventure, written by SNOGGO himself in the 1st Person (well, by Edna Sweetlove really)

    Cruising through space, looking out of the space porthole, seeing the planets passing by, jesus ******* christ we were so excited, all those ******* planets, what a ******* staggering sight.

    Sharon, our Captain (at three foot six and twenty-one and a half stone an imposing looking woman), bellowed out her order: 'Prepare to descend, you mothers!'

    So most of us stopped ******* and we started preparations for the descent onto the surface of the treacherous unknown planet ****** (aka Big ****** on account of there having been a mix up in naming newly discovered planets and so the universe had ended up with three planets all called ******) - as I was saying, the planet ****** on which no ******* human ever, ever, ever trod on before. Wow, this was ******* exciting.

    The zonometer showed we were only 3,000 feet above the surface of the unknown planet....2,900, 2,800, 2,700, 2,600, 2,500, 2,400......

    You got the ******* picture?

    BLAM!!  We landed. The ******* zonometer was inaccurate, but that's what happens when you buy cheap Asian imports at a ******* discount.

    Captain Sharon went through the full three-hour post-landing, pre-disembarcation procedure whilst I was *******.  I did an enormous one, very smelly and utterly horrible.  She was waiting at the door when I finished and she was clearly very constipated.

    It was time to disembark onto the unknown surface of the unknown planet ******.  The stratodoor opened and we were overwhelmed by the stench which hit our ******* nostrils toute suite: purest ****. What kind of people were the Bolloxonians who couldn't even organise a decent sewage system?

    I was chosen (on account of my club foot) to be among the first to descend onto ******'s surface.  It was cool and I limped heroically onto the planet's surface.

    We explored a bit, being careful not to step on the huge piles of used condoms everywhere.  The terrain was hideous and eldritch, a bit like my Aunt Edna's bedroom after she's been entertaining the local retards for a ******* ****-in.

    We saw this thing.  My mind could not immediately recognise it for its utter, brain-blowing horror.  I cannot tell you what it was, the words fail me, my intellect goes into shut-down mode.  O holy **** it was ghastly.  All right, I'll tell you what it was.  It was a THREE HUNDRED FOOT ****, all covered in oozing pus and vibrating bleeding worms and so on and **** like that.

    The crew of the our spaceship were enraptured and I was nearly killed in the scrum to get stuck in to this mighty beauty.  We had travelled three light years, crossed fifty galaxies, battled twelve-inch penised space midgets for the right to feast on this great ****.

    What can I say?  How can I describe the mighty cry that rose up from the assembled crew as they started to gobble the giant space poo lump....?

    'YUM! YUM! YUM! YUM! YUM! YUM!' they shrieked orgasmically, ******* themselves in well-earned contentment. I think we must agree that it was delicious and well worth the journey.

THE END

who the **** are you
to become the judge and jury
on a lesbian relationship
on you i unleash my fury
who the **** are you
to tell me my place
did i ever ******* ask you
to sit upon my face
who the **** are you
to sit and criticise
on what gender i let enter
my silken open thighs
who the **** are you
a twisted lonely ******
who gives a **** or a toss
because im no *******
are you just jealous
cos im loved and youre not
you sit upon your golden throne
a stale **** full of rot
who the **** would *******
with an attitude sick as that
in my humble opinion
youre a nosy ******* ****
so now do one
you low life piece of ****
your dad is ****** in the sack
id rather **** ya mum

( written by friends who know and shared here with their permission)

don't dwell on ****,
the past has passed.
and throw the drugs
down the toilet.

do the things that make
you feel better,
and avoid the things
that make you feel crap.

whatever they are.

eat and drink
things
that make you feel nice,
and be in such places.

know who your friends are
and know how much to load
on them.

force your self
out of bed in
the morning,
go for a walk
enjoy nature.

get a dog.

avoid the news,
and depressing tv.

know
your own routine,
and don't let other people
tell you it is wrong
or feel guilty about it

but also know the line
between what is your own
paranoia and anxieties,
and what is just normal
emotion
and reaction.

be aware of reality,
and how you are
deviating from it.

get over yourself,
and lighten up.

some of it is
indeed physical and psycological,
but much of it
is just ******.

Take as much advice
as can be ,
but it is up
to the individual
to make the decision to change.

as you know.

Another book for bedtime
and that's fine and dandy
books come in handy.

In gothic script
I ripped through those pages
with stories that told
of soothsayers and sages and went to sleep with blood on my lips
torn from my trips through the history so real it had to be true.

Do you know how it feels when the hurt never heals
but bleeds out every day in the same bleedin' way
and the scar's never far from the tongue in your mouth when you want to shout..'******'
but your upbringing demands that you sit on your hands and do nothing at all
and you look through the wars through the bolted, barred doors that you've gone into quite willingly
when the satchel you had on your back was filled with a stack of blank pages to write on
and you wrote what you saw but that wasn't a lot
so you penned in some fiction but the friction of lies that struck fire in your eyes burnt it all.

Do you know what it's like
when the clock starts to strike and you wonder if you'll be around for the next round of hours that burst forth like flowers ablaze in the sun.
Was it fun
can you remember when we shivered in the condemned house in December and January and November and all those other times when we listened to the chimes and the clock was just that
was time really so flat then
did we care about if and when and the what will we do when the Summer falls through the Winter's embrace
could we and did we face things together through the bitter cold weather and the nights when we cried wishing that we had both died and had gone to some better place?

To stand up and face what the face never tells and to hell with convention
A mention to my Mum
who never closed me out.
A mention to my Dad who knew nothing about anything but knew everything he needed to know
and here's to happy families and the crowing of rooks
and to beggars and crooks
to those outcast by design or by the looks of the honest and pious who trip by us with never a thought that we could be them
dead men and donkey tales
dead men trapped in the sails of those ghost ships
and my lips are ripped once more by the stories read of horror and gore.
Another book at bedtime and the dreams that follow are fine
for the dreamers who are few and far but between the morning and the dusk where the musk of ladies tickles my nose
I know
I'll read some more.

The chinwag,carpetbag of nagging mobile phones with tones that make me want to puke,take a look they make me sick,pick a number any number betya someone dumber picks another,brother canya spare a dime,buy me tea I got no time to talk with you and that's what mobiles always do,
take and take put on the brake before we're took,well, *** and that is texty awful **** if you're made that way, say what you think and think no more,a mobile's just another *****,
I swore I wouldn't buy one,try one get one free but the ****** is,
mobiles are me.