Fifty-five hours, forty-one minutes
Since I last lit a fag.
Fifty-five hours, thirty-five minutes,
Since I last took a drag.

It's all I can think of
Nothing else matters.
For want of a poison,
My brain is in tatters.
I'm taught as a bow-string,
My head's in a clamp.
I'd kill for a dog-end,
Dirty and damp.

Thirty five years of chemical calm,
Of sweet-burning, paper-wrapped, lung-filling balm.
Fifty-six hours, more or less,
Turned me into a gibbering mess.

Apparently, it gets easier…
—Daz

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Musical Arrangement In Grey And Black No.1

Since I've had I Was Kaiser Bill's Batman stuck in my head all bloody day, I came up with the amazing idea of doing a music post whose theme is 'whistling.' So here's six examples of songs featuring, in greater or lesser part, that very thing. As ever, feel free to add suggestions in comments.
—Daz

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Security Blanket

Please, oh holy Jesus,
Don't ask me to think.
Just give me a rule to follow
I won't even stop to blink.
I can't cope with all that grey;
No easy answer shining bright.
Please give me simple choices, lord.
Please Jesus, give me Black and White.
"This one bad and this one good."
I can't face complexity.
Hide me from the world, dear lord,
Let me have simplicity.
—Daz

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The Holy Foetus

In Northern Ireland, two hundred and five women have signed an open letter admitting to having broken Northern Irish law by either taking abortificients or obtaining them for others. This in response to the planned prosecution of a woman (unnamed, to protect her daughter) who obtained such drugs on behalf of her young daughter.

For those who don't know, Northern Ireland's abortion laws are just about the most restrictive in Europe, with abortion only being legal in cases where the pregnant woman's (not 'mother,' thank you—that word does not apply until after the birth) health is at risk, or in cases of foetal abnormality. Well, technically legal. In practice, even that isn't guaranteed. As Amnesty International puts it…

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