Noel's Acid House Party

or "How Noel went from this...




...to this in the space of six months"



(a)

I waited for most of April
and twenty eight thirty firsts of May
to receive my invitacione
to Noel's last candlelit soiree.


(b)

He said he'd been mad busy
filming back-to-back episodes
of Dole or No Dole (for Nazi TV),
as well as washing his helicopter.
You might think that's some flapdoodle excuse
but one day I turned up unannounced
and there he was on the lawn
(manicured like at Wimbledon; severely spruce),
with a bucket at his feet,
a chamois leather in one hand
and his chopper in the other.
Some things just can't be left to the minions.


(c)

We were a small, select gathering:
Noel and I and the Prez of Azerbaijan
and, of course, the Diamonds (Neil & Anne).
I was fashionably late due to a traffic marmalade.
Noel had cosmically ordered a seafood pizza.
When it arrived there was a whole lobster
sitting proudly on top of the jocker.


(d)

Time passed slowly to the left
like the memory of port.
The Moët et Chandon flowed
like the River Styx in spate.
Anne Ursula Andressed me with her Diamond eyes.
Neil rolled a fat bifta on one of her thighs.
The president went out for his sheepskin coat
and came back in as an aceface space goat.


(eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)

There was a knock at the door.
Another delivery ~ but not a pizza.
Another man with a box in his hand ~ but not a pizza box.
What in the world? we wondered.
I am not sure who or what opened it.
Some things are beyond
a man's ability to comprehend.




(f)

"Noel, what can we say?
Like fifty Craven A,
you take our breath away.
You're Dorian Gray
with a lion's mane toupee.
You're singing the new old song
but it won't last very long:
DAISY DUKES, GIZZARD PUKES,
PUT MORE DARKNESS IN YOUR DAY.
DISTIL YOUR TREACLE VITRIOL.
WE WILL SIP
FROM THE CHIPPED AND BROKEN CUP
OF NEIL SHIPPERLEY.
COME-A TI YI YIPPY, YIPPY, YAY!

Evil tentacles spread out across the land.
Mr Blobby dangles on a piece of elastic.
Cheggers, legless on Listerine,
cheers on bungee jumping skeletons.
Let's get out and trip the bright night fantastic."

B.P.R. 10/02/2015

That Edmonds is a rum old cove. If you need any further evidence then just listen to this little ditty by the mighty I, Ludicrous.