Poor Poor Pawpaw Hans

When cutting a headstone in an as yet to be determined timeframe, the family of Hans Rausch might well consider remembering him as a man of precision.

Not the sort to be late to his own funeral or indeed anyone else’s.

That’s not to say that Hans was an impatient man. On the contrary if he were a man to believe in such sanctities as sainthood, Hans Rausch could hold his own with any halo bearer in a game of wait quietly and, quite frankly, would wipe the floor with even the most patient pietist who dared challenge him to a quick round of who blinks dies.

Simply put, Hans was a stoic soul who would not stand for sloppiness, tardiness or unnecessary delay.

Continue reading

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.”

Continue reading

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.

Continue reading

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”.

Continue reading

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.

Continue reading

Car Crash Television

As befits a man of my advancing years, this will be a quickie.

My week is off to a flier, thanks mostly to the ever wondrous and wonderful people over at Literally Stories who have seen fit to publish another one of my new pieces.

For those of you who’ve read a lot of my stories and blog posts I’m sure you’ll agree that Car Crash Television is a real departure for me. I’ve tried really hard to step away from my usual comfort zone of using flowery prose to expand on weighty and topical themes and challenged myself to write a mostly dialogue-based piece focusing on a bloke moaning about what’s on the TV.

Continue reading

School Day Blues

“Come on sweetie, we’ve got to get going.”

“Don’t want to. I just want to stay here.”

“I know you do my love but you’ve got to go, and unless you get moving we’re going to be late. You’ll have lots of fun, just you wait and see.”

“No I won’t. I don’t want to go.”

“Angel, I know it’s scary but everyone else will be feeling the same as you. You’ll make new friends so quickly. It really will be OK.”

“Don’t want to make friends. I’ve got my other friends. Why can’t I just play with them instead? All these new ones will just be weird and they won’t like me.”

Continue reading

A Tale Of Two Turkeys

After a whole month of going cold turkey I find myself two days short of a day that will probably contain warm turkey. Then there’ll be cold turkey again. At least for a couple of days.

“Maybe we should have pizza on Boxing Day this year love.”

“Pizza?”

“Yeah, I want to try that new place Contrivios on that big circular junction. Apparently it’s better to go for their thicker crust offering as it’s perfectly cooked.”

“Where?”

“The Snowlay Roundabout. Deep pan. Crisp and even.”

Look, I never promised that having a break from blogging would mean an end to dreadful puns…

Continue reading

On A Scale Of One To Kill Me Now

“Ah, come in Mark. Grab a chair. Thanks for making the time for this, I know how busy it gets.”

And so the small talk begins. Spare me the camaraderie. We are not the same. I bet if I poked a knife through your cardigan your blood would be yellow. Let’s be crystal clear; the only reason I’m only going through with this farce is the vague and likely misguided hope that it’ll nett me a slightly under inflation pay rise. Why is he staring…oh I suppose he wants me to speak…

“No problem Malcolm. I’m sure you’re busy as well.” Busy doing fuck all of any actual value.

“I’ve always got time for my staff Mark…”

Thank you O benevolent leader. I will lay gifts at your feet.

“…my door is always open…”

Except when it’s shut so you can do your fuck-all-of-value safe from the prying eyes and searching ears of us proles eh Malcolm? What’s underneath that jacket you permanently keep on the hook on the back of the door? Is your soul under there Malcolm? Does it mewl softly at you as you create another spreadsheet? Does it slide its soft, lost tendrils into your skull begging you to remember that once upon a time so very long ago you were…oh bollocks I need to speak again. Continue reading