For this blog, I've decided to let Dai 'The Rhyme' Davies tell his own story about how what he did to the one and only Wayne-O Pijin, once leader of the Coo-coo-operative Party, SatGuru of the Pijinist cult and founder of the RAF (Revolutionary Avian Front)..........
' Right Mike, get this down on your dot-dot machine, so all the other dot-dotters can go dotty over it!
This'll be on telly and in the papers, but I'm telling you first because you've done interviews with him and written loads about him.
Brace yourself.......I killed Wayne-O Pijin!
I done it on purpose and knew it was him as he was wearing sunglasses and beret, even though they fell into the bushes and I never found them.
He was trying to get in through the French windows what were half open.
He was up to no good, mark my words. I wonder if others from that RAF were around, but I never saw them.
I reckon he was trying to release the pet parrot Harri, I was looking after for my lovely Iris ( her with the velvet shopping trolley).
What it was, we were in the Merthyr Meters meeting and I read out a poem about my Jack Russell Vlad needing some company, as he was feeling very depressed and not eating proper.
After the meeting we went for our usual chip at the Turkish Chippie and she wanted a saveloy (but that's another story).
As we were queuing she told me that she was going away for a whole month to stay with her son in Australia.
Unfortunately, she couldn't ask me along, because her son had bought the fare ages ago.
Anyway, she asked me to look after her parrot Harri, named after Harri Webb of all things.
' Does ee rhyme?' I asked.
'No, but ee do ewse bard language. My late usban taught im tha filth!'
' I don' mind', I told her,' maybe it'll cheer up ol Vlad.'
It turned out she wasn't exaggerating, and Harri was constantly mouthing off.
It also turned out that Vlad loathed the bird, possibly because I quite took to him.
His swearing was inventive and I soon taught him a few choice phrases about the new PM Teresa May.
Vlad would sit and bark at Harri ferociously, while the parrot simply cursed back with 'Twat!' 'Dickhead!' 'Prick!'
I think poor little Vlad took it personal.
One day I moved his cage to over by the French windows just to annoy the neighbours, who were having a barbeque and listening to foul music.
All of a sudden, I saw this pigeon wearing a black beret and shades perched on the fence.
I rapidly went out to the Utility Room and took out my BB gun, kept especially for such occasions.
In the war I shot a few Nazis, so what was one pigeon?
Plus, I was convinced it was Wayne-O himself, top of the Wanted list.
( I hope you put all this on that Faces Book Mike, as Iris's son will surely be on that in Australia).
I opened the kitchen window very carefully and waited for Wayne-O to make a move.
Sure enough, soon as Harri squawked 'Fuckin idiots!' Wayne-O swooped down towards my bungalow.
I got him first shot, wounded on the wing and then finished him off on the patio before the local mogies could move in......I wanted all the credit.
I phoned the 'Merthyr' paper, PC Howells at the police station and Jason Muhammad on BBC Wales.
They said it could even mean an OBE, which I'd have to accept on behalf of working-class poets everywhere.
I had no feelings towards that pigeon and had a job keeping Vlad from having him for dinner.
It all made no difference to Harri the parrot, who carried on swearing whatever - 'Gobshite!' 'Arse-licker!'....no wonder Iris was mad at her late.
What do you think of that, Mike?
I took a photo but wish I could've done a video....it would've been a sensation on that Uber Tube!'
Could this be the end of Wayne-O Pijin, who has already come back from the dead once before?
A cat has nine lives, but how many has a pigeon?
This is Dai's poem about what happened..........
THE SLAYING OF WAYNE-O PIJIN
Twas I, Dai 'The Rhyme'
did slay that dreaded pigeon
with my trusted BB gun,
I performed a duty for everyone.
That pigeon did attack my bungalow
with wicked intentions in his wings,
he wanted to assault my window,
paid no heed to warnings.
The police have thanked me greatly,
the press called me a hero,
that poisonous bird is finished,
I have put an end to Wayne-O.
The parrot Harri can live happily
without fear in his comfy home,
and shout out 'Off your trolley!'
helping me feel less alone.
Yes, twas I, Dai 'The Rhyme'
did shoot down that terrorist avian,
no more can he carry out crimes
in the name of animal freedom.
' Right Mike, get this down on your dot-dot machine, so all the other dot-dotters can go dotty over it!
This'll be on telly and in the papers, but I'm telling you first because you've done interviews with him and written loads about him.
Brace yourself.......I killed Wayne-O Pijin!
I done it on purpose and knew it was him as he was wearing sunglasses and beret, even though they fell into the bushes and I never found them.
He was trying to get in through the French windows what were half open.
He was up to no good, mark my words. I wonder if others from that RAF were around, but I never saw them.
I reckon he was trying to release the pet parrot Harri, I was looking after for my lovely Iris ( her with the velvet shopping trolley).
What it was, we were in the Merthyr Meters meeting and I read out a poem about my Jack Russell Vlad needing some company, as he was feeling very depressed and not eating proper.
After the meeting we went for our usual chip at the Turkish Chippie and she wanted a saveloy (but that's another story).
As we were queuing she told me that she was going away for a whole month to stay with her son in Australia.
Unfortunately, she couldn't ask me along, because her son had bought the fare ages ago.
Anyway, she asked me to look after her parrot Harri, named after Harri Webb of all things.
' Does ee rhyme?' I asked.
'No, but ee do ewse bard language. My late usban taught im tha filth!'
' I don' mind', I told her,' maybe it'll cheer up ol Vlad.'
It turned out she wasn't exaggerating, and Harri was constantly mouthing off.
It also turned out that Vlad loathed the bird, possibly because I quite took to him.
His swearing was inventive and I soon taught him a few choice phrases about the new PM Teresa May.
Vlad would sit and bark at Harri ferociously, while the parrot simply cursed back with 'Twat!' 'Dickhead!' 'Prick!'
I think poor little Vlad took it personal.
One day I moved his cage to over by the French windows just to annoy the neighbours, who were having a barbeque and listening to foul music.
All of a sudden, I saw this pigeon wearing a black beret and shades perched on the fence.
I rapidly went out to the Utility Room and took out my BB gun, kept especially for such occasions.
In the war I shot a few Nazis, so what was one pigeon?
Plus, I was convinced it was Wayne-O himself, top of the Wanted list.
( I hope you put all this on that Faces Book Mike, as Iris's son will surely be on that in Australia).
I opened the kitchen window very carefully and waited for Wayne-O to make a move.
Sure enough, soon as Harri squawked 'Fuckin idiots!' Wayne-O swooped down towards my bungalow.
I got him first shot, wounded on the wing and then finished him off on the patio before the local mogies could move in......I wanted all the credit.
I phoned the 'Merthyr' paper, PC Howells at the police station and Jason Muhammad on BBC Wales.
They said it could even mean an OBE, which I'd have to accept on behalf of working-class poets everywhere.
I had no feelings towards that pigeon and had a job keeping Vlad from having him for dinner.
It all made no difference to Harri the parrot, who carried on swearing whatever - 'Gobshite!' 'Arse-licker!'....no wonder Iris was mad at her late.
What do you think of that, Mike?
I took a photo but wish I could've done a video....it would've been a sensation on that Uber Tube!'
Could this be the end of Wayne-O Pijin, who has already come back from the dead once before?
A cat has nine lives, but how many has a pigeon?
This is Dai's poem about what happened..........
THE SLAYING OF WAYNE-O PIJIN
Twas I, Dai 'The Rhyme'
did slay that dreaded pigeon
with my trusted BB gun,
I performed a duty for everyone.
That pigeon did attack my bungalow
with wicked intentions in his wings,
he wanted to assault my window,
paid no heed to warnings.
The police have thanked me greatly,
the press called me a hero,
that poisonous bird is finished,
I have put an end to Wayne-O.
The parrot Harri can live happily
without fear in his comfy home,
and shout out 'Off your trolley!'
helping me feel less alone.
Yes, twas I, Dai 'The Rhyme'
did shoot down that terrorist avian,
no more can he carry out crimes
in the name of animal freedom.
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