Feral Street Intermission.... Logos

Feral Street

As we have reached halfway through this remarkable suburban saga, I wanted to share with you some Logo's my good (and very creative) friend Mark designed. I can see them on T-shirts everywhere.

What do you think?






Can you imagine Feral Street as a TV series?
Would love some feedback.

If you've got any enjoyment out of this series at all, please spread the word by sharing this on your Facebook etc. The more followers I have, the more interest publishers will show, which is what I'm ultimately after. (Apart from entertaining you of course).


Next Post, Feral Street, Episode 4 - The Feral Five go Frollicking...

Until Then,

Feral Street - Episode 3

Feral Street Kind of like the O.C. but totally opposite. Pray you don't end up there..without a mullet. Meet Johnno, Timbo, Sez & Trace. And MG (Mud Guts). (All twenty something. The boys live together, the girls next door and across the road, MG with his Nana.) A Six Part Series Warning: Not for the easily offended..

Ep.3 - The White Trash Strikes Back. Last week, Sez told Trace that yoghurt may help with her crabby problem. Then MG rocked up with a problem of his own. MG (Mud Guts) sits in the girl's loungeroom looking at the Guns n Roses 1993 Tour poster as Sez makes him a cup of instant coffee with four sugars. Trace emerges in a towel from the kitchen with a tub of strawberry yoghurt in her hand. She sees MG and is embarrassed, also remembering that very drunken 'one off'. The things we do when pissed. 

MG: 'Hey Trace. Looking good babe.' 

Trace: 'I'm not even dressed you perve monkey.' (she disappears down the hallway). 

MG: 'You got a towel dontchya? Doesn't worry me!' 

Sez appears with the coffee: 'You're a sleaze-bucket Muddie. So what's the problem?' 

MG: 'Um, it's about tonight.' 

Sez: 'Tonight? Oh shit! We're supposed to be going out hey? Fuck me, I'll have to get me mum to hang onto me baby. She's gunna shit bricks!' 

MG: 'That'd be gross hey! If you could really shit bricks. They'd be brown hey!' 

Sez: 'I reckon you talk shit bricks. So we're still going out right?' 

MG: 'Well yeah but I can't borrow me Nana's car. She needs it. It's bingo night.' 

Sez: 'Oh shit a cold chicken Muddie! We gotta walk again? Jesus Christ! You want me to get fit or sumfin? Me lungs can't handle it!' 

MG: 'Soz darl. But maybe you should cut down to 60 ciggies a day.' 

Sez: 'Fuck you bowel movement. I only smoke 50 a day.'

 

Later Trace goes next door to Johnno and Timbo's place. Timbo opens the door. 

Trace: 'Mud Guts can't drive us tonight. We gotta walk.' 

Timbo: 'That MG is nuthin but a pair of fat crack smokin gerbil balls! Pity we don't have no buses no more. All those little shits throwin rocks at 'em fucked it up for everybody.' 

Trace: 'You was one of those little shits weren't ya?' 

Timbo: (grins) 'In my day we only chucked oranges. If you're looking for your fuktard boyfriend he's in his stink pit.' 

Trace is suddenly nervous. Should she tell her guy the bad news? Unless the strawberry yoghurt does actually work. She walks down the hallway, stepping over dirty clothes and empty beer bottles and opens his bedroom door. 

Johnno is standing in front of his Pamela Anderson poster, masturbating. 'What the fuck? Don't you knock?' 

Trace: 'What are you doing, you Pervasaurus! You prefer that slozzy-pop over me?' 

Johnno grabs his pillow and hides his old fella. 'What you expect Trace? Man's not a giraffe!' 

Trace: 'Don't you mean camel?' 

Johnno: 'Whatever! Camel toe.. yeah, be nice to see your camel toe! I need to get me end away! We been going out 3 whole weeks and ya still won't let me stick it in!' 

Trace: 'I give ya head heaps ya selfish ass anaconda!' 

Johnno: 'Yeah, I know, and it's good but... Shit. I wanna nail ya! I wanna like, toss ya girl scouts salad, and....screw ya all romantic and shit. What's wrong wif dat?' 

Trace: (getting more uncomfortable. She wants to tell him). 'Aw you are a sweetie Johnno and I wanna pole dance your pole too but I gotta talk to ya about sumfin.' 

Johnno: 'Shit girl. Couldn't ya waited til I finished strangling the ferret?' 

Trace: (walks up and gives him a fierce nipple twister). 

Johnno: 'Ouch,that killed!' Trace: 'Go back to your wank then ya fuckin homo-lesby-sexual!' (she storms off). 

Johnno: 'Wait up honey box! I waz jokin! He throws down his pillow and runs after her, but she is already out the front door. Undeterred he follows her in his birthday suit with his candle to attention. 'Babe! Pamela Anderson means nuthin' to me!' 

Trace runs next door and Johnno is left naked and alone in his front yard, apart from the shocked Sri Lankan family of six across the street who have just pulled up. 

Johnno: 'Trace! Are we still going out tonight? Trace!!' He sniffs. 'That's weird. I'm sure I can smell strawberries!'

 

Next Ep: Will the Feral Five still go out to the pub? Will they actually have to walk? Will Trace finally get around to telling Johnno about her crabs? Or will MG make his move on Trace first? I bet you can't wait. 

My Books, Videos, Short Films and Free Downloads

https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/

Until then,

 

Feral Street - Episode 2

Feral Street 

Kind of like the O.C. but totally opposite. Pray you don't end up there..without a mullet.

(A Feral or a Bogan is a redneck) 

 A Six Part Series Meet Johnno, Timbo, Sez & Trace. 

And MG (Mud Guts). (All twenty something. The boys live together, the girls next door and across the road, MG with his Nana.) 

Warning: Not for the easily offended...

Ep.2 – Strawberry flavoured. 

Last time, Johnno and Timbo took a day off job hunting (again) to play Wii. Meanwhile next door, at Sez and Trace's house. 

Sez: (coming out of the bathroom). 'Hey Trace! Did you like, leave ya pimples behind or sumfin?' 

Trace: (in her bedroom, looking for her razor). 'What crap are you talkin scrag?' 

Sez: 'Come and look this toilet seat! There's like, red dots on there! Ya ass pimples fallin off or sumfin? Ha ha.' 

Trace: (takes her razor and walks to the bathroom). 'Hey well I'm workin on it awright? Jesus. Give a girl a chance!' 

Sez: 'You're not a girl, ya old pro. You're like some filthy bloke with ya sweaty jock rash!' 

Trace: (embarrassed) 'Ah, its not a skin rash.' (she holds up her razor with a questioning look). 

Sez: 'What? You cut your legs or sumfin? You're like a teenager you slut fish. Or a trannie.' 

Trace: 'Jesus! Do I gotta spell it out for ya ya dumb whore hound? I got fucken crabs!' 

Sez: 'WHAT? Get the fucken hell outa ME house!' She points.

Trace: 'That's OUR house and what do ya reckon me razor's for? Me pubes are comin off awright?' 

Sez: 'Fucken Hell! You been using me furniture! And cutlery too!' 

Trace: 'Not to fucken masturbate with ya crack Whore! Stop ya carry on! It's not like you been goin down on me or nuthin!' 

Sez: 'Oh shit. And I really didn't want to either. No. No. Yukky. Uh-huh.' 

Trace: (Notices her awkwardness). 'Oh me God! You fancy me ass? You salmon sucker!'

Sez: 'Don't be fricken disgusting.' 

Trace: 'You do! You want a piece of Trace perch!' 

Sez: 'You can talk Crab girl! You gunna tell Johnno about your problem ya slut gorilla?' 

Trace: 'I haven't rooted him yet! And I'm gunna shave. Right now.' 

Sez: 'Can't the crabs crawl up ya? Don't you need cream or sumfin?' 

Trace: 'I dunno. Am I a bloody sexpert? Do we got any cream?' 

Sez: 'I got yoghurt in the fridge. Its s'psed to be good for ya ain't it?' 

Trace: 'I fink so. I heard that it's got Vitamin D in it. Is it vanilla?' 

Sez: 'I think it's strawberry.' 

Trace: 'What the hell, that'll do. Give me 10 mins to whip off this cactus plant then bring it in.' (There's a knock on the front door). 

Sez: 'Oh shit! I hope that's not your man. He sooo wants to bonk you. Does he know you're a dirty slustard who'll fuck anyone down the pub for a half a beer?' 

Trace: 'Hey! I'm better than that! I ask for a whole beer.' 

Sez: (smiling). 'Skank.' 

Trace: 'Don't you say a word ya squid licker. Go answer the door!' (She shuts the bathroom door). 

Sez walks to the front door. It's tubby MG (Mud Guts), from across the road. 

Sez: Oh hi Muddy. 

MG: 'Helsinki, we have a problem.' 

Sez: 'Who's Hell Sinky?'

 

Next Ep: What is MG's problem? Will Trace get rid of her pubes? Can she really confess to the man she loves that she has crabs? Or will the strawberry yoghurt do the trick? 

https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books

 Until Then,

 

Feral Street Episode 1 - Celebrating Cultural Diversity - Redneck Month.

Feral Street

Kind of like the O.C. but totally opposite.
Pray you don't end up there... without a mullet.

(A Feral or a Bogan is a redneck)

Meet Johnno, Timbo, Sez & Trace. And MG (Mud Guts).
(All twenty something. The boys live together, the girls next door
and across the road, MG with his Nana.)



Warning: Not for the easily offended.

Ep. 1 – Rent sucks.
Can Johnno get a job or will he kill someone trying?


Timbo scoffs his weetbix, milk in his uneven goatee. Johnno walks in wearing only boxer shorts. He cocks his leg and farts.

Timbo: 'Mate! I'm tryin to eat me fuckin breakfast!'

Johnno: 'Don't talk about food. I might puke. I drank too much last night.'

Timbo: 'Talk about food? I'm already eatin it!'

Johnno: 'Whatever.' (He plops onto the tattered, tartan couch and his balls fall out his boxers.) 'So you interested in Sez mate or what? I reckon she's got the hot twat for you mate.'

Timbo: (with a mouth full of food). 'She's alright but she got a freakin kid.' (Looks to Johnno). Oh come on Maaaate! I can shee ya balls! I'm tryin to eat here!'

Johnno: 'Ya didn't mind em last night you woz snorin and I plonked em in your mouth!'
Timbo: (sprays his weetbix across the floor) 'Whaaaaa...'

Johnno laughs and pats his back. 'Only kiddin mate. I can't even remember last night.' He sighs.: 'One of these days I gotta get me a job. Have to get to the dole office. Can't afford rent this week.'

Timbo: 'What? But it's your turn! We're fucked man. You suck.'

Johnno: 'I suck but I don't swallow. Besides, it's your turn to buy the booze.'

Timbo: 'Bullshit mate. I bought the case yesterdee.'

Johnno: 'Yeah and I bought the two cases before that ya possum shaggin gangsta!' (He lifts his leg and lets rip once more).


Timbo throws his bowl onto the wooden coffee table and half of it spills onto the copy of Ralph's 2004 swimsuit issue. 'Fuckin hell, you're a stink box! You need a doctor to pull out that dead cat's quarter pounder with mouldy cheese!'

Johnno scratches his balls. 'Ya might be right about the mouldy pussy. I reckon Trace has crabs.'

Timbo jumps to his feet. 'Get off me fuckin couch then ya fecal rabbit!'

Johnno laughs again. 'Jokin bro. I'm still tryin to get into her pants. I had less struggle from me cousin! Trace is friggin hard work.'

Timbo: 'It's not what the blokes down the pub say!'

Johnno points: 'Don't make jokes about me girl or I'll fuckin job ya! She's as hot as Satan's balls! A fair dinkum prize!'

Timbo: 'Prize alright! At last week's raffle, she was the prize!'

Johnno jumps to his feet and tackles Timbo and the coffee table upturns and the weetbix go flying like vomit and they roll around half naked wrestling.

Timbo: 'You asshole gremlin!'

Johnno: 'Ya mum's an asshole!'

Timbo: 'Least I got a mum!'

Johnno suddenly gets mad and bitch slaps hard Timbo in the face.

Timbo: 'Ow! Jerry Gee Lewis! What the fuck you do that for ya psycho?'

Johnno holds up his fist: 'Don't say shit about me dead mum!'

Timbo: 'She's not dead!'

Johnno: 'One day she will be!'

Timbo struggles to stand, clasping his face. 'Anyway, I thought you were s'posed to be goin to the dole office, not that any dildo would be stupid enough to give you one.'

Johnno: 'Yeah tomorrow man. Today I'm gunna whip your bony virgin kazoo in Wii Fit!'

Timbo: 'You're on Moose fucker! Can we drink beer and do it from the couch?'

Johnno: 'Der. Does a fish shit in the woods?'

Next time. Does Timbo fancy Sez, or is he put off because she's a 20 yr old mother? Will MG finally reveal his secrets? And can Trace tell her Johnno that she really does have crabs? Or will Johnno get into her pants first?

For my Books, Videos, Free Downloads and more visit 

Anthony J. Langford Books | Australian writer

Until Then,

A very serious Poem

Death Rights

may 2010


It's get easier and easier with each breath. Each numbered breath.
I thought it would be hard.
I always dreaded it.
Always.
For Years
What a Fool.
What a waste.
But now I'm aware of each breath.
Languid. Supple. Not particularly enjoyable.
Just a breath.
But I'm conscious of it.
This is what it's come to.
I thought I had more time,
but it's snuck up on me
look. Here it is.
There was time for more
wasn't there?
If only there was some warning...
Then I could have planned
could have done some of those final things
whatever they are
I didn't even have time to draw up a list
I'm sure there's many final things
but right now,
I can't think of any.
The last breaths.
You've got to be joking
right?
I mean... I've done many good things
surely I deserve more.
I know we all have to go
and all that crap
but....
doesn't seem fair..
guess it never does.
But this is me,
not a person in the paper
or on the news
or in a movie.
Where are you God?
You don't exist!
If you do, you must be some asshole.
So many people, better than me
have sacrificed more
and you took them anyway
haven't you had enough?
Sssh now and concentrate
this is harder than I thought.
I guess soon I won't have any thoughts
there will only be this
concentrating on my breaths
then I'll be out of it
I think I already am
I can't communicate with those around me
to them
I'm already faded
in some other place that is more real than this
it's my place
only I can understand it
I guess I'll die here
I can cope with that
can't I?
I'm as warm and safe as I'll ever be
anywhere
and it's not external
it's all here
and that's all we need
that's all I need.
Good
because I'm going anyway
I can feel it
now
oh yes
it is now
here
with me
taking
me
not so
bad
it's
not goodbye
is it
it's not hello
it's
this
just this
but
I
go
there
...
..
.

or

or nothing
https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books

Coming Soon
For the Month of June
A Seriously Silly Series

Feral Street
Kind of like the O.C. but totally opposite.
Pray you don't end up there... without a mullet.

o m g!
Not for the easily offended.

Until Then,

Greatest Written Films - The Empire Strikes Back

The Empire Strikes Back

Spoiler Alert

"Do, or do not. There is no try."

Yoda.



This week celebrates the 30th anniversary of the U.S. release. (It wasn't released in Australia until August), so it is appropriate to remember it here. An odd inclusion you might think for one of the Greatest Written Films of All Time, being so effects driven. But make no mistake, this film has been carefully constructed in terms of script, with the emphasis on character. Empire is more about internal journey than anything else. It's easily the best of the series.

The screenplay was written by Lawrence Kasdan and Leigh Brackett (who died before the film was even made). Kasdan is a well known scriptwriter and director is his own right, his list of films demonstrate the type of drama he's interested in. (The Big Chill, Grand Canyon, Body Heat).




Everything you felt secure about after the first film is quickly ripped away. Empire takes the fairytale innocence of Star Wars and injects it with mythology laden pathos. The characters are deeply rooted in turmoil and suffering. Luke's mystical battle in a cave, who after decapitating Vader, turns out to possess his own face. Lando, a supposed friend betrays Han and Leia, and is almost strangled to death by Chewbacca. C-3PO is blown apart. The Rebel Base is destroyed. Luke is almost killed by a vicious ice creature that plans to eat him and must be shoved into the guts of a Tauntaun corpse so he doesn't freeze to death. Han Solo is tortured. Then frozen. And of course, the ultimate struggle when Vader uses psychological warfare to torment his young, clearly ill equipped opponent and utters one of the most immortal lines in cinema: “Luke, I am your father.” And after all that pain, there is no happy ending.



All this brought immaculately together by character director Irvin Kershner, (Eyes of Laura Mars, Loving). Empire is the darkest and the most mature of all the SW films, unfortunately all to be thrown aside in the next instalment. If only George Lucas had stayed clear.



A classic, up there with the best of cinema.



Coming Soon - Special Fiction Series...for the month of June only.
Feral Street - Pray you don't end up there... without a Mullet.
Not for the easily offended.

The Workplace Glasshouse

The Workplace Glasshouse




Hamish. His workplace was his playing field. A time to glow. 23 and rapid fire with the banter. The staff kitchen was the goal line.
"Susan, if you eat all that pasta, I'll have to start calling you Giovanna!"
The three who stood by him chuckled but she could only manage a tiny wry smirk.

Walking by the reception window he caught sight of himself. No wonder they all loved him; tall, broad shoulders, well-dressed and a woman magnet. He points to the smiling receptionist. "Don't let any of the ugly people in! We have too many here already!" She smiled and blinked. Like many of Hamish's comments, people didn't think much of them until after his charming presence was vacated. Then the frown set in.

Coffee time in the kitchen.
"Who the fuck left all this mess? Christ some people are pigs. They can't cope without mumma!”
A couple of workers agreed, though one of them had contributed to it.




Returning to his desk, Hamish passes 44 yr old Bryan. “Mate, you'll never find another woman with a haircut like that!”
“Oh. Isn't it modern?” His hand went to his freshly manicured follicles. “I thought...”
“Mate, I've seen a better cut of lawn at the cemetery.”
An awkward but rousing cackle rose around them.
“That's a bit mean,” said Mary with a knowing grin.
“Bryan knows I'm only joking, don't you Bry?”
Bryan looks to those around, not wanting to appear boring. “I'm going to change it soon.”

A lunchtime later when Hamish is in the kitchen filling his water bottle, a colleague quietly enters. “Hey Hamish! You see the game?”
Hamish is startled and the stream catches the bottle and sprays his shirt. He jumps back, looking down. “Shit!”
“Sorry Hamish. Didn't mean to scare you mate. But you do look like you're ready for the wet T-shirt Comp.”
A busy kitchen roars with laughter, like a volcano giving into the steam. They are pleased to see a reversal. Finally.
Hamish is red. “Shut your trap! It's not funny! Look at my shirt!”
“I said sorry mate. It's only water.”
“Don't call me mate, you idiot!”
Rows of eyes studied the transformed jokester.
“What are you looking at? You can all get stuffed!” He stormed out.
After that, no one thought his jokes were funny anymore and within weeks, he resigned.
And then Bryan met the love of his life.
With his old haircut.






Coming Soon,
In June, a short series of Flash Fictions, Feral Street. When Rednecks move in. NOT for the easily offended.

Next Post, Greatest Written Films returns.


Until Then,
feedback appreciated.

Beneath Hill 60

The successful man will profit from his mistakes and try again in a different way.
- Dale Carnegie



'Beneath Hill 60' is a true story based on a front-line campaign in Belgium in 1917. This is a war film unlike any other. Not at least that it is about Australian soldiers in a predominately British campaign. There were many others who fought in both World Wars, though you wouldn't know it from most big budget war films we are used to seeing.

Oliver Woodward (Brendan Cowell) is a late inductee into the campaign on the front who must prove himself to his fellow Aussies who have been in the trenches for some time. It's literally hell on earth. But these soldiers belong to a special unit. The tunnellers. Their job, to subvert the enemy from beneath. They are soon sent to one of the great Fronts of WW1 in Belgium, to an area known Hill 60 which is currently dominated by the Germans. There is a plan in place, but can they pull it off? It's claustrophobic. It's tense. There is constant shelling. The guns shots come from nowhere. You can understand how many were driven mad by it. (Shell shock).




This film works on so many levels. A brilliant taut script by David Roach based on the actual diaries of Woodward who shows us that there is more at stake here than gaining mere inches of ground. There is the tenacity of man. The blunt simple-mindedness which is required to get the job done, but which can also blind some men from the truth. War is stupid. It's a game. And yet they are not merely soldiers but ordinary people. We get an insight into their lives, predominately through Woodward himself, which juxtaposes how horrific war is. We get an idea of the German position too. Often they are faceless enemy's but here we get a little insight into the men on the other side of the muddy walls.

It's a suspenseful film, directed with real flair and I'm surprised to say, mastery of the medium, by actor Jeremy Sims, whose first film, (Last Train to Freo), was rather an languid affair. Once again he works within an tight budget, (like all Australian films, except for that unmentionable one), but he puts you into the mud and the water and the darkness underground. You'll by yearning for your shower, dry bed and a cup of tea; privileges denied to most of these chaps for months at a time.

Oliver Woodward.

My only criticism is that Brendan Cowell looks too old for the part. He' s supposed to be 25. I could have gone along with it if I'd been told much earlier. But really he is Australia's best actor (Noise, Love My Way) and plays Woodward to perfection.

The supporting cast is also first class. Steve Le Marquand shows his depth and is totally believable. It's welcoming to see John Stanton back. We don't see him enough in Australian film. He has a strong presence and that amazing voice. He is an underused icon. I barely recognised Jacqueline McKenzie, who looks ten years younger than she is. She is always a pleasure to watch. Her on screen daughter played by Bella Heathcote is a real talent too though Aden Young's brief odd appearance seemed unconvincing. The tunnellers themselves, all work together to bring a on-screen camaraderie and presence. Credit must go to Sims and Roach for this collective working dynamic. Also noted are the chillingly effective 5.1 sound effects and a classy score by legendary composer Cezary Skubiszewski.

If you are from outside Australia, and don't like war films, it is still effective as a thriller and even a love story. It's highly recommended.
For Australians, it's a must own DVD for every household. Finally, an Australian film to be proud of. And an important one at that.

85%


https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books

(I did promise the short story The Workplace Glasshouse this post, but as I have just seen this film, I wanted to review it while still in theaters. If you live in Australia, you better get along quick.)

Coming Next,

The Workplace Glasshouse - We've all worked with wankers. But as they say, "People in Glass Houses..."

Coming in June,
A New Series, Feral Street. Pray you never end up there.

Also more in the series of Greatest Written Films, more poetry, flash fictions and Polls. As always, open for suggestions. Comments appreciated. It lets publishers know that people are reading.

Thanks for swinging by.

https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books