Regulatory Gremlin

Since Theodore took up residence in my scrotum, life has become somewhat more complex.

“Call me Teddy.”

“I’d rather stick to Theodore if it’s all the same to you.”

“Suit yourself. I’m just trying to make it easier for you.”

“Why on earth would I want things to be easier? Having a miniscule, talking…thing inside my nutsack seems like a perfectly reasonable and normal arrangement.”

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A Pentagram Of Opening Gambits

I got bored earlier and did a quick search for top tips for a successful blog. Based on the results it’s clear to me that no-one else knows what the fuck they’re doing so I feel strangely comforted. Given that the internet is a place where you can probably confirm and/or deny that the collective noun for opening gambits is indeed a pentagram it’s best to set your expectation-phasers to stun(ningly low).

There were a couple of pearlers in there – perhaps the best of which was, “Be Awesome!”

Wow.

Here I was settling for a consistent dose of mediocrity where all along what I should have been striving for was a hunka-chunka-burning-awesome.

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A Headline, A Drabble And A Haiku Walk Into A Blog

Our breaking story at the top of the hour…ruling party in turmoil as slush fund revealed to be “slightly frozen water”

Senior politicians are tonight distancing themselves from fresh allegations of corruption after two prominent Indian businessmen are seen leaving a Saxonwold shebeen with what eye-witnesses have described as a “leaky black holdall”. Moments later the pair were seen in a heated exchange where the taller of the two proclaimed “this is not the fifteen and twelfty million Msholozi promised us”.

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Bob. A Job.

To whom it may concern:

I am writing to inform you of my resignation from the position of Acting Junior Vice-Assistant to the Deputy Director of Marketing with immediate effect. I seem to recall something in my original contract about a thirty day notice period but in the spirit of agile management and notwithstanding the fact that I wiped my arse with said document a couple of months back, it’s probably best for all concerned if I slip off quietly into the night.

Go on admit it. You’d love it if I genuinely slipped off into the night. You probably wouldn’t complain too much if I slipped off noisily, say, from a fourteenth-floor window but in the famous words of Mick and the boys…you CAN’T always GET what you WAAAANNNNT.

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Epitaph – A Drabble

“It’s time,” she said and in we stumbled like lambs bleating in the slaughtered air. Any lingering hopes that he would be granted some final serenity or peace dashed in a maelstrom of tortured angles and the sweat-soaked rictus of a face that has been long lost to madness.

“Is it…?”

“No. Not blood. Not exactly.”

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New Story: A Single Grain Of Salt

It’s always nice to have an excuse to scribble some words on a blog post – and today’s excuse is to tell you that I’ve got a brand new piece up on Literally Stories.

A Single Grain Of Salt is a story that has been trying to get written for a couple of years without a whole lot of success. For me, this often happens when a tale has a link to reality, and particularly when it relates to an event that still haunts me despite the fact that tragedy was avoided.

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In The Face Of Rejection

If you happened to stumble your way through the buffed and shining revolving door to stagger forward to the sanitised, public-facing cubicles of the cover-story building, you’d be forgiven for thinking that all was as it seems.

Except, as we all know, things are rarely so simple.

The smiling helpers ensconced in their shining, plexiglass cocoons are merely a front. A façade. Like a Cuban shopfront on a different continent in a different time.

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