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The Grisly Truth

Okay, you’ve pushed your luck and entered into the darkness of my  world. It’s not pretty so if you have a weak disposition, turn back now!

This page outlines my failures in my chosen career of Bareback Gerbil Rodeo and my subsequent slide into the seedy world of budgie rustling, eventually hitting rock bottom and confronting the agonies of Poetry and Writing...

Well I guess it all started when I was a little girl boy. My mother wanted a girl as she already had lots of hand me down clothing. So I got teased at school, being the only boy in school wearing a dress and when I get old enough to realise that boys don't wear 'Snow White' dresses as a rule (except for fun) I resolved to do something really 'macho' so my sexuality was no longer in doubt... (This photograph was taken at my University Graduation.) So started my Bareback Gerbil Rodeo career, and my quest for acceptance as a man...

This was, perhaps, not the best career choice I could have made as I had trouble finding mounts large enough to match my 6'3" 22 stone frame. But through selective breeding and liberal use of steroids my dream would soon be realised. (I believe they also used the same techniques on the Gerbils!) I suppose that right from the start I should have seen the writing on the wall...

A chronic fear of Gerbils, especially the really fierce ones, was yet another overlooked clue.... Shortly after this photograph was taken I was thrown and trampled by the white Gerbil. It's name was Flopsie, and it was the fiercest of all Gerbils I was to some across - a real S.O.B. I still enjoy watching the event now even though I still have the scars...

Crippled from my Gerbil wrangling, I descended further in to the depths by working for an international syndicate of Budgie Rustlers. For several years I stole these cute feathered creatures to send them into a life of debauchery and slavery in the Middle East where they were forced to submit to the unwanted attentions of rich Arabs.

When in hiding from Mob hitmen I hit rock bottom and became ensnared in the dark and secret world of poetry and writing. Well, I had gone as far down as it is possible for me to go. But I have to remember that it was when I lay face down in the gutter, once before, that I met my wife... there she was staring up and smiling at me...

I never said it was a pretty story!
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Small Print: I, George K McLaren, hereby assert and give notice of my right under section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this web site and of any and all poems and writings contained in these web pages in the names George K McLaren, G K McLaren, or LitterAli. All rights reserved unless stated otherwise. No copyright material may be reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, without the express permission of the author and owner of the intellectual property contained in the pages of this website. Sorry about that!