Got a problem? Need answers? Why not ask the Munky?
TO THE IDIOT WHO ALTERED THE ABOVE LINK - YOU HAVE BEEN TRACED. TAKE CARE AND A MIRROR.
The ‘poet’ formerly known as Sneak Technique fell to earth just as man was reaching for the moon. His previous planet of residency had long held the view that poets were merely an unwanted strain on their precious resources. Artists of any description were therefore generally treated as outcasts. One small step for mankind was to overshadow one huge leap for Sunken. With the use of polystyrene surgery (plastic still being in its infancy) he was able to blend, if somewhat awkwardly, with the race known as ‘human.’
His formative years were spent in the company of a monkey named Dave. Years passed before he realised that there were indeed beings of a higher intelligence roaming the planet, and in 1979 (having undergone more surgery) he shamelessly took up lodgings with a radical freethinking hamster named Rudy. During the reign of the then prime minister, her royal highness Maggie Thatcher, Sunken was to experiment widely with his newfound freedom. Drawing on the bitterness of her reign he was to pen the instantly forgettable, ‘Give my love to Dennis Thatcher’, the hopeless ‘One in three million’ and the downright lewd, ‘Upstairs at number ten’.
Man or Mouse?
The full transition to human being was made during the second summer of love, widely believed to be in 1988 (though no one can really remember). Pulling on newfound influences, as well as a rather dodgy pair of dungarees, he was finally to find acceptance as a fully fledged human being. He won the hearts of like-minded souls to the high-pitched cries of ‘Aciiiieeeed.’ It was during this chemically misjudged period that Sunken was to experience life-altering events. Having long held the belief that he was a variant member of the rodent family, it was never going to be easy to adjust to the fact, that he was indeed closer related to a species known as man. The shedding of his fur was in keeping with his newfound liberated mood, and in the mid nineteen nineties, he finally came out as a poet.
Years of struggle have fuelled the muse of Mr. Sunken. The results of his troublesome journey can be traced through his postings to the UK’s premier writing site. From ‘Kylies Arse’ to ‘My left bollock’, from ‘It’s the vibrator or me’ to 'Smells like Britney Spears', a clear map of emotions penned at source await your perusal. And what of the present? Dave the monkey now manages a highly successful firm of lawyers in the sleepy village of London, whilst Rudy the hamster continues work on his eagerly awaited fourth novel entitled, ‘Human Disgrace’. Meanwhile, Sunken’s aptly named banana shop, ‘Skin up’ continues to flourish.
View more stuff - here.
Warning! May contain nutz.