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Mr Bonx, bonks, bonkers, Bonxers ...whatever!So, as promised the reason behind the name... 1)... Is it Mr Bonx purely on the basis that like most red blooded males when romance is first in the air it usually means vast amounts of red hot shagging, all over the house, in different rooms and wearing a bizarre array of clothing..... Nope! I've been single for over a year and its doing my head in: there must be a young lady out there somewhere who isn't obsessed with money and flash cars......... Although I doubt it. 2)...Is it bonks, who in mid summer runs 5 miles a night, every night. And so has the stamina of a rampant gazelle, the stealth of a panther and buttocks like small rocks... Nope..! After spending most of the xmas and new year period getting rather pissed with a totally cool bunch of Australians, smoking like a chimney and eating vast amounts of rubbish, its more like the stamina of a clumpy walrus, the stealth of a tortoise and buttocks that make some of the weirdest noises on the planet.
3)...Is it Bonkers, who can crack quite possibly the crudest, obscene and vile jokes about "doing Kylie with a banana", Inserting allsorts of fresh root vegetables into an upside down Jordan, with a vigorous circular motion, just to see what happens or tease the babes with classic chat up lines... "What's a sexy woman like you doing in a dirty mind like mine?"... "If I give you a nickel, will you tickle my pickle", "Is there an airport nearby, or is that the sound of my heart taking off" and the most successful so far... "I would eat a mile of your shite just to kiss ya ass. After that little lot most women (except the ones in urine stained straight jackets) usually conclude I'm completely Bonkers... Nope..! I am, as always a complete gentleman. Polite, well mannered and courteous. 4)... Is it Bonxers, which like its namesake bonx, refers to those silly games (xbox) that children play for years at a time, sitting on their lardy arses, whilst stuffing their fat little faces with Mc Donald's donkey burgers, swilling gallons of sugary piss and filling their tiny minds with graphic and sick violence, then the parents wonder why they grow up to become emotional retards...and unemployable... Nope..! When I grew up, back in the 18th century, we spent all our free time running around the park, kicking a tatty football or each other around, climbing huge trees, and falling out. Clambering over building sites and jumping off the scaffolding into massive piles of sand, from about 60ft. Or being chased by the police for blowing up people's garden sheds, hopefully containing little fluffy bunnies called "pixie" or "thumper" or "James 1st," with my oldest brother's latest home made bomb. Nope..! So here it is, with genuine photographic evidence.
Apparently at the tender age of 1and a quarter, if I was upstairs and the door bell went, I would shuffle along on my butt (normal children crawled) to the top of the stairs, giggling like a chicken and proceed to bounce down each stair, with a loud YES, you've guessed it, "bonking" sound. Of course if the nappy was full the sound changed to a soft, squeegee frurrllping noise. But on most days and much to the amusement of an old aunt called Maud, who would be looking through the letter box and laughing like a drain gave me the name Bonks. Or more embarrassingly, Bonkey. I've been called bonks and since moving to East Grinstead Mr Bonx from a very early age so the name is tried and tested. Some cool responses to the smoking ban. (See March 2006 rant) One woman I know, a beautiful example of a south London babe: strong, blindingly smart and right bloody Horney told us down the pub that at her work place, several of the never-smoked PC brigade started going on about smoking and the health risks and you should look after yourself etc etc. Whilst they stuffed their faces with junk food, fizzy sugary piss and are about 5 stone overweight, having never done a minutes exercise in their lives. She summed up their attitude, "I might enjoy a cigarette and a few drinks, but at least I'm not a fat bloated saggy 'ol bitch, with more rolls of blubber than a beached whale".... Go Girl..!. (Editorial note, this statement contained various F words.) My fav guitar is in hospital at the moment, having her pots drilled, inner workings tampered with and the entire system flushed and purged. That sounds familiar. My thanks to Danny Bridle, www.bullfrogmusic.co.uk for unleashing some much needed TLC on poor 'ol Charvel...something I have never done, especially when she is plugged into Mr Marshall and going at it full volume. It seems some plonker has produced a theory, that anyone who goes for a few drinks after a long day at work to relax, unwind and chill out is a raging alcoholic with mental health problems. So that makes about 17 million of us then. I can only conclude this was published by some geezer called "Billy No-mates", who is socially inept and has the presence of a pork chop in a synagogue. And finally a story to warm your hearts. For the last few months there has been a drugged up, scrawny piece of shite wandering the streets, threatening people with violence. And smashing up the place. He has pestered most people I know in the town and the police are actually helpless until you are actually stabbed, mugged or in women's eyes, raped. A few weeks ago he tried to pick a fight with a couple of off duty marines who had just spent 4 months in Iraq, and they beat him to a pulp. I couldn't get hold of a police statement and the local press have been quite: but I'm quite sure the vast majority of decent law abiding citizens might share the same opinion......nice one lads. Cheers, Mr Bxxx. |
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• Home Return back to the homepage • Ghost Story Mr Bonx, Author, previews his chilling story - The Dorset Arms • Music Reviews/Links Read some of Mr Bonx’s insights into music and culture • Pix Set of photos about the life and times of Mr Bonx • Contact Get in touch and leave me a message. • About Mr Bonx Find out about Mr Bonx. Rants Archive December 2005 |
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