Music to my ears

If music were a woman then I think perhaps she would be my dirty secret rather than my soul mate.

Mel, who you can and should read, posted a piece earlier today which you can read here.  Mel has a load of posts, and I would recommend reading all about Charlie in particular.   Most enjoyable indeed.

Anyway, it got me to thinking about my own relationship with music.  I say relationship, but to be honest it is more a series of dirty one night stands than something more meaningful and long term.  I doubt very much that music and I will be slipping off for a romantic weekend to a little cabin somewhere to celebrate a lifetime of loyal partnership though there may well be the chance of a dirty romp in the back of the car.

Ask me who I love and I will tell you that I adore Prince and would happily let him touch me inappropriately (were he not dead – something that still upsets me terribly).  I would also insist that I love all things eighties, that I have a thing for rather loud and nasty metal and own most of Bob Dylan’s early works on Vinyl.  I also had an awkward jazz phase (and have the Dave Brubeck red vinyls to prove it), a pop stage and a particularly filthy long weekend where I was into rap music but that just made me a bit sweary and it turns out that there is no appropriate time for a fat middle aged programmer to be using the ‘N’ word.  No matter how fly or dope his tunes.

There isn’t much I haven’t tried but mostly I seem to resort back to the music I loved when I was in my teens in the eighties.  And Volbeat.  I heard Volbeat for the first time about 5 years ago and since then have fallen very much in love with their rockabilly metal.  I’ve even seen them in concert a couple of times and took my kids to see them.  Our Tom loves them especially, and he is only 9.

I then realised that technology has played a big part in my on off romance with music, particularly in recent years.  The music varies slightly but how and when I listen to it has been hugely influenced by the way I access it.  For many years I had the same old stack of CD’s and cassettes and things did not vary much at all.  Perhaps that was to do with having a young family and trying to work on my career.  Probably.  But as the years have progressed and I have found more time I have dipped in and out of music and most often as I have discovered new technology.

I dabbled with peer-to-peer sharing for a while and found myself stealing all manner of music I had never really listened to but that did not last long as I also stole some pirated films and a particular copy of the Lord of the Rings ended up being a virus so I packed that in pretty quickly.

iTunes then made me super horny for all the music I had forgotten from the eighties and nineties (and sometimes later), and for a long time I amassed a ton of stuff that I hadn’t really appreciated at the time and enjoyed it a lot more as I got older.  I ended up with everything Hootie and the Blowfish had done which when I look back was just a bit weird.  They were okay but I’m not sure I needed their entire collection.

Spotify and Deezer followed and that was quite fabulous and I had a nifty little speaker I would plug my phone into as I browsed endlessly but I would always end up coming back to the things from my youth.  I will admit to having a real thing  for Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Band which I picked up from my dad.

Sonos speakers followed and I put them through out the house and again these gave me a new lease of life and it was not long before I was treating my neighbours to hours and hours of Erasure and the Pet ship boys.

Recently my listening time has increased again on the back of picking up a couple of Amazon Alexas which I have hooked into my Sonos speakers and Spotify and Amazon music accounts and between me and the boys there is often sometime playing in multiple rooms throughout the house.

Funny how it goes though because the kids are mostly into eighties music and volbeat…I do wonder what will be next.

Some more limericks

100 word Wednesday – The Chase









How very curious

Just a thought or two

So, I wrote here about the busy week I had culminating in events of the weekend, and following that I found myself rather weary for a few days and catching up on things so had no opportunity to write.

The majority of the stuff I published in the last week and a half were written before last week commenced so I found myself having done little or no writing for over a week when I sat down to write this morning.

Curious it was that I really struggled.  I’ve been able to churn out up to 3 or 4 pieces a day for months effortlessly but when I sat there everything seemed very foreign to me.  I looked at my previous posts and they seemed wholly unfamiliar and whilst I have tried to keep up with comments I had to keep going back to look at what  I had written.  Lots of the ideas I had seemed rather empty and it struck me that my brain has been in a wholly different non creative place.

Browsing through my reader I wondered how much I had missed.  I have read a few things recently but so very little as I slipped back into the routines I had before I took up writing a few months ago and it struck me how very easy it would be for me to simply put down my pen and to not write again.

I had a few pointless conference calls at work today so I managed to scribble down a few limericks and haiku, and slowly things started to feel familiar again.  Tonight I have managed to plonk myself in front of the keyboard and I can just about feel the ideas starting to come back and thoughts forming.

I haven’t done this for long, so perhaps I do not have the muscle memory quite formed yet but I am now more aware of the need to keep feeding my brain and to try and maintain the creative processes because I didn’t much like the idea of not doing this again though it would be quite easy to let something else take its place because life can just get in the way sometimes.



Fragile whispers

I tried, I really did.

Right, so I sit down intent on writing something deep and moving in response to Michelle’s prompt and all I can think about is George Michael and careless whisper.

The song is not simply simply tugging at the edges of my thinking as I write, but rather it in my face, freshly waxed wearing only tight leather pants, gyrating suggestively and occasionally thrusting it’s bulge at me quite provocatively shouting “Look at me! Look at Me!”

I’ve tried a few lines of touching prose but each time I think I am getting somewhere it then sneaks up behind me, wraps its hands tenderly around my waist, grinds against me whispering into my ear “Never gonna dance again…”

Given how intent it was on being heard I thought perhaps listening to it might vanquish it from my thinking.  Get it over and done with as it was but alas that did not quite work out as I had hoped.  Sitting at the desk where I write in the spare room in only my boxers, illuminated by the light of my small screen screen listening to careless whisper, my wife noticed me and passed commented that perhaps I should light a few candles or was there maybe something I needed to tell her.

I attempted to explain my predicament but I had started a playlist and suddenly “I want your sex” started to play and the moment for explanations was lost.

Oh well, maybe next time eh.

Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge

Your lunchtime limerick 27/9/17

Your lunchtime limerick 26/9/17

Photo courtesy of Comfreak@pixabay

Post number 200

Such a non event that it doesn’t even get a picture.

There I was about to write a post on the subject of “Even more tales of alien probing” when I realised that this was going to be my 200th post.  95 days have passed since I published Armitage and wow has it flown.

My first instincts were that this should be something special, perhaps reflecting on my experience but I have done that a few times already and can’t be bothered to do it again.  I considered writing about all the fabulous folk who’s work I have liked or the WordPress community I feel a part of but decided against that also.

I think I would prefer to simply pass the event by, as I do my birthdays as I get older, and not put any expectation on myself.  I write much better when I am simply making up nonsense and waffling on with abandon.

Maybe when I hit 500 posts I might do something special but for now, nothing to read here, a total non event on every level.

Move along…


p.s.  Okay, maybe just a limerick because you’ve taken time to give it a read.


A woman from work, Laura Nook

turned to whoring to make a quick buck

On her back making cash

till she got quite a rash

and then syphillis and aids, what bad luck



Dear Earthlings

I am not best pleased.

It’s me, the Universe.  Call me what you will, Jesus, Allah, Buddah, The Great Nothing, Merlin, Aslan…I do not mind particularly.  My closest friends call me Darren.

Not been here for a while, so just popped in to check up on you and I will admit, you never cease to disappoint me.  You really cannot be nice to each other for five minutes can you.  I turn my back to enjoy a rather lovely supernova sun and when I come back you’re at one another like you always are.

I was going to list the wars you’re waging against each other but you know what, I really cannot be bothered.  Please, slaughter away – the sooner you’re all dead the better.  I plan to bring the dinosaurs back – they were far cooler than you lot.  Oh, I may keep the Japanese – they’re cool too and I think a world populated by dinosaurs and the Japanese would be freaking awesome.

I was going to suggest that it’s about time the Americans took a good hard look at themselves and stopped shooting each other for no good reason but, well, for one they won’t listen because they seem rather fond of such beastly things and secondly, the NRA have sorted me out with a sweet holiday home so I should probably hold my tongue.

Oh, and do not go blaming me for those storms you’re having.  Act of god my big fat celestial bottom.   If you insist on ejaculating inside one another willy nilly and living wherever you choose with no consideration for common sense and then building homes on coastal swamps and places known as ‘Tornado Alley’ what do you bloody well expect.  I didn’t send the storms and I didn’t give your kids cancer either (despite what a lot of the christians reckon) .  Bad things just happen okay.  It’s part of the circle of Life.  You should listen to Elton John more.

I noticed what you’ve done to the polar ice caps too.  Great job you dicks.  I always liked them, lovely and tranquil they are.  Do you not realise what a lovely planet you live on?  Perhaps not – given the quite awful manner in which you treat it. I noticed a turtle with a plastic straw lodged in its nose.  It’s not funny, stop laughing.  You’ve dumped so much plastic in the seas that it will certainly outlast you lot.  Good bloody riddance I reckon.

Oh, and special mention to the Americans.  Bravo on Donald.  As if being disliked by the majority of the planet wasn’t enough you choose that to be in charge.    It has actually made my list of top 3 of monumental humanity cock ups.  It is easily on par with the fact that the Greeks can’t seem to install decent plumbing – despite their creative genius, and the small matter of JarJar Binks.  George..Serious?

I’m going now, I hope you finish each other off some time soon because I can’t wait to see a Ninja riding a stegosaurus, it is going to be frigging fantastic.

Screw you Haiku

100 word Wednesday – The Chase

99 Word Challenge – Sound


Photo courtesy of  Werner22brigitte @ Pixabay

Driving made me super gay

And it could happen to you too!

Okay it didn’t, but the headline sprang to mid whilst I have been reading about how Saudi women may well be able too drive for the first time in 2018.

This is obviously a great thing for them and hopefully a small step in the battle for their emancipation because they really are treated quite woefully.  I was going to try something serious on the matter but if you have read my blog for any length of time you will know that it is unlikely for that to happen.

Instead I did a little reading on the buffoon clerics who have such an influence in the Kingdom and there really is some rather funny stuff they have said.  It would be funnier if it were not so scarily sad but it did make me chuckle nonetheless.

A couple of years back one chap insisted that driving would could lead to homosexuality.  I would suggest that a husband with a big itchy beard was more than likely to do a much better job than driving a little Nissan Micra to the shops to pick up a bit of shopping.

It could also lead to men and women having inappropriate relations at traffic lights, petrol stations and car washes apparently.  Just how horny must these people be to stop at a red light on the way home from work and before you know it you’re getting a hand-job from the woman in the Toyota Prius pulled up next to you?  All I want on the way home from work is a Kentucky Fried Chicken family bucket and some stretchy trousers.

It does perplex me how most of the things these Clerics suppose will happen if a woman drives a car tend to end up in Sex.  They feel a bit rapey to me you know.  I’d probably not want them looking after my kids so me and the missus could pop to the pub for a drink and a bite to eat.

Oh wait, there’s also a fellow who believes that giving them the right to drive will mean the beginning of a slippery slope to depravity until there are no more female Virgins left in the Kingdom.  I do wonder whether he knows what driving actually is.  Maybe he’s getting it confused with an Orgy?  Could happen I guess.

You’re going to love this one.

Apparently driving causes women to assume a certain position and it damages their ovaries and can make them barren.  I have no comment on that, not needed really is it.

There are so many more ludicrous assertions these savages have espoused, and the more I read the angrier I get and whilst I don’t intentionally like to offend people I would give anything to be able to offend them.  But alas all I can do is mock.  Makes you think that we really haven’t come that far as a species doesn’t it.

Anyway, think that’s enough of that, I need to pop to the shops for some bread and milk and who knows, I might end up in a transgender threesome if I’m lucky…

Kangaroo – OWPC Challenge

A Donald inspired tale of madness

Mouse and Cat







The great plan of the gods

Apparently, all terrible things happen for a reason.

A few weeks ago my family and I were invited to dinner at a rather fabulous Indian Restaurant in Leeds by one of the chaps who works for me to say thanks for the support I gave him whilst he was fighting thyroid cancer.

During the course of the meal, I think just after the quite delicious lamb main course had arrived,  his friend remarked that Allah most certainly had a plan for him and whilst he had given him the cancer in the first place he had also taken it away.

How very kind I thought, and it struck me that this Allah fellow sounds a whole lot like Jesus’ dad don’t you think.  He’s often attributed with giving children leukaemia and such to prove that all things happen for a reason and then turning up with jazz hands and a big old “Taadaa” when things are all cleared up to take the credit for a job well done and to check in on what lesson you’ve learned whilst watching your child suffer excruciating pain.

“He sounds like a bit of a dick” I said to my wife afterwards.  She suggested I be a little more respectful of other people’s beliefs, and because of how rude I can be she would be taking back the kidney she given me a few years ago to teach me a lesson.

I am happy though to say that my friend is now fit and well, regardless of who fixed him up.  I do hope the doctors send some sort of thank you card to a god of one description or another because it really was quite good of whoever stepped in to take this potentially life ending disease back.

Perhaps though him and the other gods would be so kind as to stop giving people awful diseases, because the doctors would have considerably less to do and they could maybe get a little more golf in.

Oh, and she never gave me a kidney – but you knew that right 😉








Photo courtesy of Geralt at Pixabay.

Kangaroo – OWPC Challenge

I wonder if I could take one in a fight? Doubt it.

The challenge – write something using the work prompt: Kangaroo.  The prompt comes from Jennifer Nichole Wells fabulous site.  

Try as I might I have been completely incapable of coming up with an idea of interest on the matter of the Kangaroo.  For three months I have churned out all manner of things on a ludicrous breadth of subjects but the Kangaroo has me flummoxed.

I think perhaps I find them rather underwhelming, despite their large feet and ability to box grown men in the circus which should be more impressive than it actually is.  I look at them and I feel nothing inspiring despite the wonder I am sure some would say they are.

I know that probably makes me beastly, but I think it might just be the vacant look on their faces that I find so very dull, and I am sorry but it makes me want to punch them.   Right in the face.

Now as cruel as that might seem, given their ability in the ring I am pretty sure I would be able to claim self defence if I was found wrestling one to the ground in the street.

If I was going to dispose of any large amount of them, and obviously this is just hypothetically speaking – I think that a tornado would be my weapon of choice.  Let us assume that they went a little crazy and started stealing babies as animals in Australia are, I believe, quite prone to do.  Dingo’s stole Azaria Chamberlain if her mother is to believed so I don’t think it is too far a stretch of the imagination.

It’s not like I’m proposing a koala stole a chubby toddler, that would be ludicrous. Koala’s are far too weak for that.

Anyway, back to my kangaroo filled tornado.

The thought of a couple of thousand of them whisked into the air and spinning uncontrollably looking all perplexed and bewildered has me chuckling far more than it should.  Sorry.

Right, as I was saying – nothing to see here and fingers crossed next week’s prompt has me more inspired.

Sorry Jennifer.

More stuff to read perhaps?

Glorious – Daily Prompt

Motivational Monday

Get well soon limericks 

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Like at your own risk…

I will admit, pressing the like button on things quite often causes me some consternation

I will admit, pressing the like button on things quite often causes me some consternation, especially if it is something sad.  I want to support and encourage, please do not get me wrong, but it often leaves me feeling rather uneasy.

I am quite sure that it would not be taken this way, but I recall feeling most conflicted recently when a Facebook acquaintance posted that he had cancer but was determined to fight it.  I wanted to applaud his resolve but would not want to give a big thumbs to his loss of a testicle in the same way I would if someone had posted a video of a  puppy falling over in a particularly cute way.  How can I like just part of it?

But beware, the risk runs deeper and you never quite know how your like might be interpreted.  My wife recently liked an article entitled “Child molesters face internet crack down”, and when I first saw it fleetingly it was somewhat truncated and all I saw was “Mrs Michael likes Childmolesters…”

What if the article had been “Big cock fighting ring smashed wide open” or “Many men now using public transport”.  How would I have felt then?

What if I was to like a news article which spoke of the injustice of being unfairly accused of a crime you did not commit entitled “Being fingered by a snitch ruined my life”.  I think it is most sad that this reservation that consumes me recently prevented me from expressing my thanks for the great work the police in America after reading an online article entitled  “Rape and murder incidents on the decline in New York”.

Perhaps I should just leave a nice comment or send a card…


More things from my brain?

Gift and Song – Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge

After Dark Haiku – 24/9/2017

Screw you, one and all.

Motivational Monday

In England they were chopping off peoples heads for not liking the right type of Jesus…

Turn on the television and you might think it was the end of the world.  I don’t care for religion but know plenty for whom it is most fulfilling and some of them seem rather excited by the prospect of it being the end of days and disappearing into the clouds.

Theres that orange American maniac picking a scrap with that quite ludicrous Korean buffoon, we have terrorists running amok with a new story of some sort of attack in London every few weeks and there are storms with rather unusual names bearing down on one place or another whenever I choose to pay attention to the news.

So, this got me to thinking – is it now really worse than it ever was or have things always been this way?  I figured the best way to answer this was some research and a considered response, and then I changed my mind almost immediately and decided to base this whole piece on conjecture and supposition.

So – what conclusion did I come to I don’t hear you ask.  Well, I think mostly no, it isn’t worse that it ever was  – in fact I think the world’s a better place, or at least no worse that it has been for many a year.

Terrorists?  Oh please, we have always had terrorists and people happy to chop off  other people’s heads for one god or another.  Remember the Crusades?  Only difference is that we can live stream if via Facebook now so more people are aware of it.

War?  I am certain that anyone who might whip u graph of conflict across the ages would prove my assertion that it’s probably no worse now in terms of one lot of people who want to do something beastly to another lot of people for mostly no reason at all.

Terrible things that happen to children?  You think the awful things that have happened to kids only started in the 50’s and 60’s?  How do you think your chimneys used to get cleaned?  Small hands make light work indeed.  Paedophilia isn’t a recent phenomenon I am certain, it’s just out in the open and no longer swept under the carpet.

Global warming?  Okay I might give you that one – though if the Donald is to be believed you’re wrong on that point too.

I quite like the world I live in, though I am a white middle aged male living in suburban England.  I am not a pot bellied starving African with a face full of flies so I may have to give you that one too though I bet if I wasn’t so lazy I could find evidence that says it’s been pretty horrid in parts of Africa and other places for as long as we can remember.  At least now we try and help out and we write catchy Christmas songs to raise money to feed the starving.

People may well be fleeing Africa for the promised land of Europe but it is not that long ago that we were fleeing Europe for America because all of our potatoes had gone a bit manky and in England they were chopping off peoples heads for not liking the right type of Jesus…

And do not get me started on how great smart phones are or the ability to stream Netflix in the depths of inner Mongolia whilst or just how brilliant all the different types of Oreo cookies are.

The world really isn’t all that bad I reckon, and I am pretty sure that if I did some real research I would prove that it used to be pretty rubbish for most people in the last 2000 years.  Maybe its now just not as rubbish for more people that it used to be.

I might be wrong but I am too ignorant to ever find out…


More stuff?  I have a lot of stuff if you fancy it…

I don’t have a dog called Caper – Daily prompt

Bernard and Charles – Daily prompt

Partner – Daily prompt


photo courtesy of photoshopper24 @ pixabay

Screw you, one and all.

Its probably wholly inappropriate and in rather poor taste. I’d not read it really.

To Everybody

I write this letter with some regret, though not much if I am to be honest.

I, Kris Kringle, hereby tender my resignation and would notify all concerned that I will be ceasing all and any Christmas related activities henceforth and with immediate effect.

Though there are many reasons for this decision, and it is not one that I take lightly, I have for the most part simply had enough and fancy a bit of a change.

The magic of Christmas seems now lost on so many and I no longer feel the support of the people I have for so long served, and I believe they would be best served by Amazon or Ebay or maybe just sending a really nice card or a letter saying something nice you don’t really mean.

The main reason though is the recent controversy my actions have attracted.  As I have repeated publicly on a number of occasions, and I would again insist right now, Elves are not children –  despite their stature.  The incident of March the 3rd this year so widely reported in the media was consensual and under the supervision of Mrs Kringle herself who is rather fond of that sort of thing.

I still contend strongly that there should be no bias against human elf relations.  I do not recall such an outcry when Aragorn and Arwen declared their love for one another, and they most certainly did not have to contend with people prying into their homes with long range telescopic lenses.  With hindsight perhaps we should have closed the curtains, but I am old fashioned and still believe in respecting the privacy of others – despite my day job.

Due to this hypocrisy, I must now work under the scrutiny of child services until they are satisfied that the welfare of my elves is no longer a matter for concern, and this is not a something that I am willing to tolerate for one day longer.

Whilst I accept that I am a public figure, what happens between consenting men and elves should be their business alone.  Despite the disapproval of so many sections of society it comforts me that I have found acceptance in some of the more niche communities on the dark web and my wife and I are proud of the fact that we are now widely attributed with being the creators of the “Upside Down Elvish Spit Roast” and the “Pixie Pile Driver”.

I know the children will be disappointed, but their demands have become most unreasonable in recent years and where once there was joy in building toys for them and seeing their little faces light up on Christmas morning these days we are mostly subcontracting to shoddy far east electrical suppliers who use child labour.  Whilst it is true that small hands make light work,  on balance I am probably doing children a favour.

I hope that you are able to secure a replacement for my position, perhaps the Chines might fancy it – they have the manpower and distribution channels I am sure.  For me, I am going to take a few weeks off and catch up on Game of Thrones and then my intention is to open a vape shop in California.  If you ever fancy a new bong or an electric cigarette pop by, I’ll do you a great deal.

Best Regards




Photo courtesy of free-photos @ pixabay

A quite accidental beard.

A piece on beard growing and there is also a reference to a 3 way with the Clintons.

it seems that I have, quite by accident, grown a beard.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe it miraculously sprung up overnight, that would be silly, but I think it might have been sneaking up on me slowly over the last week or two whilst I have languished and enjoyed a fortnight’s holiday.

Alas though it is not a bear of much note.  It is not a magnificent shag of a thing – full and glistening and well oiled.  It is not styled or quaffed to accentuate my jawline nor is it the type that one might wear accompanied by the type of shirt a lumberjack may prefer.

No, it is none of these things and it does not in any way make me look trendy, sophisticated, well travelled or likely to be found sipping a rather pleasant coffee somewhere with free wi-fi.

It is instead a scratch homeless person affair which serves only to make me look like an ageing alcoholic with an aversion to bathing.

Year round, I am smooth cheeked and shaven headed for the most part and in fact I am usually rather thuggish looking in my appearance given the combination of the skin head and my tattoos.  If I was to characterise my looks as a political party, then I would most certainly be Donald Trump’s right leaning Republicans.

It worsens though, because in addition to the accidental beard I also seem to have somehow acquired a ludicrous unintentional mop of hair curly hair to accompany it.  So much of a surprise is it that I do not recall how I styled my hair when I was last in possession of any.

If my previous self was to be imagined as a statue-protecting-bed-sheet-wearing Republican then my current self is more likely to be caught in a very dirty pot fuelled three way with Bill and Hilary Clinton.

So what to do?  I think I shall ponder my accidental beard and the accompanying unintentional hair and let you know what i decide to do, because the wife says she rather likes it.

Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

Photo courtesy of Pexals @ pixabau

Just one more post…

I have wanted to use the words “throbbing” and “Angela Merkel” in the same piece for some time. To be honest I would probably not bother reading this…

I can’t always muster anything too long when typing on my phone as its far too tricky but Im still awake and seems sleep is some way off.

 It is half past midnight and I am in the Premier Inn in Scarborough with the wife and kids and the cocophony of the blissful sleep of others means that you get one more post.  Pretty place Scarbrough.  I wrote a post or two back why I am awake.

Anyway…my point was that I think I will just wrote one more piece.  Perhaps something dirty about Donald trump and Angela Merkel.


Why? Since when did why matter? 

How electric was her touch 

proud Donald thought on meeting 

He felt a stirring down below 

As the Fraulein he was greeting 


His mind it raced, perfume he smelled 

So buxom quite devine 

Strong back big hands delicious chins 

He craved her “she’ll be mine!”


His mind it wandered, pulse it raced 

He hungered for her touch 

His little hands they craved to feel 

Her German curves so much 


Unable to control his needs

 he turns Away from twitter 

And sneaks away to please himself 

Whilst hiding in the shitter.


“Oh Angela” he cries aloud 

and dwells upon a kiss 

Trousers round his ankles

Face contorted in pure bliss 

OK I think I am going to bed this is just getting weird now. 

Photo courtesy of 3dman_eu@pixabay

A post a day for August

August was my first full month of blogging, so I thought I would set myself a target of posting every day, and yesterday I completed it.  So what did I learn?

August was my first full month of blogging, so I thought I would set myself a target of posting every day, and yesterday I completed it.  So what did I learn?

Here’s a quick list, because I know you’re busy…

  • Do not do it when you are taking a week’s holiday somewhere that has no wifi.  It will make you a horrible person and your wife and children will go for ice creams without you.
  • It is important to read lots of other peoples work.  You see some wonderful stuff and it will perhaps provide you with inspiration.
  • There are things that I don’t understand or enjoy, but I will give them a go.  I read every post on the ‘Magnetic’ daily prompt one day and learned tons about why people are hot for one another and how fortunate we are that ‘Lust’ and ‘Thrust’ rhyme.
  • There will be things you read that make you think “how the devil did they get so many likes?”  You have no idea what people will enjoy, trust me.   Google “hucow”.  But not at work, or where your partner or kids might see it.  Then delete your browser history.
  • At times it was like using a really dirty toilet.  The urge to produce something quickly was often more pressing than the need to produce something I enjoyed.
  • Engaging with the people behind the likes and the comments is hugely rewarding. There are a core of people who comment regularly who I truly appreciate because I know they are reading and enjoying it.
  • I have a suspicion that there are people who just like things to be polite or to get you to follow them.  One reader liked 79 posts in about 5 minutes.  I had to turn alerts off at that point.  I will follow you if I like what you write, not because you liked my copyright page.

Anyway, I’m sure there are more things but I wanted to keep this relatively brief.


Here’s some other stuff you might like

Sombre limericks 6

My 100th Post

Fatties in space – not one for the kiddies


Photo courtesy of pixabay

My 100th Post

I started my blog about 7 or so weeks ago, and as it turns out this is my 100th post.

I started my blog about 7 or so weeks ago, and as it turns out this is my 100th post.  I had envisaged that it would be something special but mostly it is a reflection of my experience to date trying my hand at writing.  With the exception of the last week, being on holiday as I was and deciding not to write, I have had an absolute blast churning out whatever springs to mind.

I have not given any of it too much thought really, and seldom have I edited anything preferring instead to enjoy the pleasure of getting ideas out there and finding out what I enjoyed doing most.  Along the way it seems some people have enjoyed some of what I have done which I will admit has been hugely encouraging.  I am still unsure of what I really prefer writing so will continue to dabble until I decide what to focus on next.

Finding time to write has on occasion proven difficult but generally I manage to grab an hour or two at night and will type through my lunch at work if I am feeling really excited about an idea.  I am looking at trying to establish a better writing routine as my desire to write ludicrous haiku is now to blame for the amount of time it has taken to paint the hall.

When I started I would simply sit down and type, but of late I’ve started keeping a little leather bound book with me to jot down ideas and explore thoughts which has proven particularly useful.

On occasion my phone will beep away as people read and comment on my posts.  I haven’t paid too much attention to the numbers, but checking today I can see that I have generated more than 3200 views from 1040 visitors and 1330 likes.   Readers from 68 countries have taken a peek at what I have been doing which I thought was pretty cool.   I seem to have about 150 followers too but that includes about 10 from twitter where I publish things to but I don’t really understand twitter very well so really must take a look at that at some point.

WordPress has certainly lead me to reading a lot more too, with so many people to follow I’ve never been short of ways to pass the time and there are some fabulous writers out there which have given me inspiration.  I have also loved participating in a load of the challenges out there, and in July I did the Daily Prompt every single day which I find a real catalyst.  Each day I also try and respond to one of a number of challenges by other writers as they have given me great ideas too.  Ill be listing those out in a future post!

So what will be the next 100 be on I ask myself?  I’ve no idea though have a few ideas that I want to flesh out to try and do something more substantial whilst also continuing with the silly things like my limericks and haiku which I do so enjoy.

So, whether you’ve been part of my inspiration as a write or a reader, thanks so very much, I’m looking forward to seeing where this journey takes me next!






The joy of saying stupid things 1.

Picture if you will a small village in Africa, and in a small mud hut in this village lives a man.

You know how people just say things?  e all do it and today I think I shall mount my high horse and discuss one of those things people say quite casually that more than likely has its roots in some vague truth but is actually absolute drivel.

Now insist as much as you like, but I do not for one minute believe that laughter is the best medicine.

I am a firm believer that in fact, medicine is the best medicine.

Last year I had kidney stones, and as I lay there wishing for death to take me I can assure you that the last thing I wanted was to be regaled with humorous tales.  What I wanted was drugs, and lots of them.  Ideally I wanted them administered intravenously but I was quite open to the options of those taken orally or as suppositories.

In a near state of collapse as I was I would happily have allowed passing strangers to ram as many fist fulls of whatever took their fancy up my bottom if it came with the promise of even a modicum of relief.

Now I appreciate that there is an argument here on the effects of dopamine on the body, but my counter argument is that were I a syphilis infected crack fuelled man whore on death’s door then I would surely seek respite of an opiate nature in lieu of watching box sets of Black Adder.

Not yet convinced?

Picture if you will a small village in Africa, and in a small mud hut in this village lives a man.  Let’s call this man Ebeneezer.  Now Ebeneezer has a son who, due to a most awful set of circumstances, is riddled with aids and malaria.  Sadly he also suffers from malnutrition, his little belly so terribly swollen and his face crawling with flies.  His son is in a rather terrible way and Ebeneezer calls for a doctor, and as it transpires the red cross are in the area and send one over straight away.

“Oh thank you doctor” says Ebeneezer gratefully, “please can you give my beautiful boy medicine to help with the pain?”

Now obviously what Ebeneezer is seeking is something to make his son comfortable, so you can imagine his consternation when he is instead presented with a DVD of the complete works of Monty Python.

“Watch this twice a day” says the doctor “and he will be right as rain in a jiffy.”

I imagine that Ebeneezer was not best pleased, especially given that Ebeneezer does not have a television, let alone a DVD player.


Want to read more of my stuff?

This is kinda funny

and this kind of sad

This was just fun



I  have lit scented candles and enjoyed long relaxing baths to the haunting calls of the blue whale…

I’ve not been on here long, but heavens there are a lot of musings going on.

Everywhere I look somebody is musing on something.  You will find many a musing for each day of the week, and months are well covered too.  The myriad of musable matters is rather mind boggling and there is no lack of quality musings out there.

New as I am to this blogging lark I have felt a pressure to muse myself at times.  Often I sit in the dark thinking that a good hard musing right now would be just the thing.   Perhaps I feel that I am missing out being relatively muse free as It seems I may well be.

Not only does it seem that I am not much of a muser but I may also be neither contemplative nor particularly deep, both qualities which it seems help in terms of ones quality musing ability .

I will admit that I have done my level best to find my inner muser, I am not lazy.  I  have lit scented candles and enjoyed long relaxing baths to the haunting calls of the blue whale and alas mostly I just end up  fancying getting into bed with a nice cup of tea and a couple of biscuits and having an early night.

I have pondered the deeper things in life,  the woes of society and the darkness that lies in the hearts of men and mostly the best i can manage is a haiku about Donald trump wanting to make love to that pudgy faced chap in charge of North Korea.

I think I once got close to an angst filled poem but it turned into a dirty limerick at the last minute.

Anyway, it’s quite late and I really shoulg be in bed.

Does that count as a muse I wonder?


Photo Courtesy of JSTARJ @ Pixabay

Rehash Saturday

I’ve been doing this for about a month now, and there are some posts from the first few days which have not really been seen by anyone.  Now and again I think I shall share a few.

I’ve been doing this for about a month now, and there are some posts from the first few days which have not really been seen by anyone.  Now and again I think I shall share a few.

This one was one of the first ones I did in response to the daily prompt.

I loved writing this one – it was pointless and headed nowhere but I really enjoyed not having to have an ending or a beginning.   Just a middle…


More?  Try this or this

Photo courtesy of pixabay