Harry The Spiv: Will you be my FaceBook Friend?

Harry The Spiv: Will you be my FaceBook Friend?

By Harry Mottram

Will you be my Facebook friend?

Will you be my Facebook friend?

My former flatmate from Bridgend?

It’s been some thirty years last March,

Since you called my then girlfriend a tart.

And we fell out over the washing up,

The milk, your socks, oh… and my puking up…

But that was back in nineteen eighty five,

When albums were on vinyl and cost two ninety five.

So…

I typed in your name and twelve were listed.

Including a dermatologist whose tattoos weren’t artistic.

A UKIP councillor who’d swallowed fifty euros and died,

A Glaswegian catwalk model who liked her Mars bars deep fried,

A cross-dressing hate religious preacher who called himself Denise

And a vegan health guru who’d become morbidly obese.

Yes, there were lots of people with your unusual name,

Mohamed, Llewellyn, Barbie, Sharon – your parents have a lot to explain.

Free spirits with cover photos of islands and mountains in Canada,

But they all had day jobs, two did shifts in Asda.

And profile pictures of our kids or pet cats called Sheebah

Pics of hen nights in Dublin or a booze cruise to Riga.

Is that you? The eyes, the nose, your knobbly knees?

Oh it’s a very fat arm, another badly taken selfie.

I’ve assumed that you’ve changed, I’ve assumed that you’ve got old,

I’ve assumed that you’ve got fat, I’ve assumed that you’ve gone bald.

So it’s a choice between that one or this,

It’s take your pick, it’s hit or miss.

Well here goes, hope for the best,

Right, I’ve sent a Facebook friend request.

I’d like to meet up and talk about your life

Did you become an astronaut, play for Brislington or sleep with your driving instructor’s wife?

Do you remember when we pinched women’s under wear from a charity shop

Actually there’s a lot of things we did which are best forgot

My Rolf Harris painting  of a little girl in Rhyl

And Gary Glitter albums and signed photo of Jimmy Saville.

It’s gone now, which if you reply

Will take my list of friends to five,

My garden gnome, Linda, my kids and litigating ex,

Not quite the number you might expect.

I’m not competitive about Facebook, I’m not a bore,

But I’ve got to beat your one hundred and fifty four

I admit it, in truth I won’t pretend,

I simply want more Facebook Friends.

Accepted! What’s this pornographic email?

A webcam? No I’m not a thirteen year old girl.

No, I’m not a milf, a swinger or into dogging,

I’m won’t be groomed or change into stockings.

You’re not Taiwanese, you don’t live in Gibraltar

Delete! I definitely don’t want a Facebook stalker.

Look at the time. I could have sent an old fashioned letter,

Social networking, huh. Although… perhaps I’ll have a go at Twitter.

Harry Mottram