More and more limericks

I am going to have to admit that I love writing these.  Today I think I shall write about terrible things that happen to good people.

I am going to have to admit that I love writing these.  Today I think I shall write about terrible things that happen to good people.


A woman that I work with a Saint

broke her spine when she slipped on some paint

She’s bed ridden and blue

Her hub said he’d be true

now he’s doing her mum, so he aint.

 

My friend had a wife quite divine

got addicted to cake, crack and wine

really let herself go

and her bottom did grow

only 30 but looks fifty nine

 

An arab chap born in Kuwait

stole the hub of a really good mate

it was all quite a mess

he looked good in a dress

now they’re married, he calls himself Kate

 

My sister got hammered one night

with her boyfriend got into a fight

so she stayed out real late

and then slept with his mate

now she’s single again, such delight

 


4.  I like doing 4.

Want something different?

Playground – Daily prompt

We unlikely few – An Armitage tangent

Probing – a cautionary tale – Daily prompt

 

 

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.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

Photo courtesy of Pexals @ pixabau

Even more limericks on sombre topics. Probably not for kids…

Proof that a limerick can make even the darkest of topics more pleasant…

Today, I pay tribute (or a homage if you will) to those that have suffered at the hands of this cruel cruel world.  Or, I just wanted a tenuous reason to post this on the daily prompt, you decide.

I believe that the limerick form can cheer up even the most horrid of subjects.  What do you reckon?


A fellow alas premature

in his loving, his wife quite demure

Said “I need you to last

and not be so damn fast

cos you’re done fore I start, that’s for sure

 

A woman got picked up and drugged

and a fellow got beaten and mugged

but I said to the wife

at least we’ve a good life

she said “you’re cold hearted”, I shrugged.

 

Chap in charge of the choir last spring

said he just loves to make the boys sing

“Do it harder and faster!”

said the old choir master

you really do have a nice ring

 

 

A fellow joined up and no doubt

true patriot so he shipped out

Lost his legs to a mine

had some made now he’s fine

and he always gets parked when hes out

 

 

A cheating wife knocked up oh dear

Told her hub she was faithful all year

But the couple are white

and the kid black as night

so he left her for chicks, meat and beer

 

 


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

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/homage/

 

 

 

 

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


Https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/casual/

Badger and Fox

Badger appeared slowly from his set.  Sniffing the fresh morning air he had a rather pleasant and leisurely scratch and considered the day ahead.

In response to the daily prompt word:Amble


Badger appeared slowly from his set.  Sniffing the fresh morning air he had a rather pleasant and leisurely scratch and considered the day ahead.

“Worms might be a good start to the day” he mumbled to himself  “or maybe some bugs” he continued “i do rather like bugs.”

As badger decided on whether it would be juicy worms or crunchy bugs there came a familiar voice from the nearby bushes.  “Are you taking to yourself again my old friend?”

Badger knew that voice only too well.   It was fox, and if fox was about this early it could only mean trouble.

“What do you want fox?” Badger asked impatiently, his black and white stripes bristling.  “I was just going to go and have some breakfast.”

“Oh my good badger, no need for such grumpiness” said fox grinning, “it is such a lovely day and that is no way to greet an old friend.”

Badger gave a low growl.  “You are no friend of mine Fox” he said rearign up to his full height “either speak your mind or hold your tongue for I am hungry and wish to have my breakfast.”

Badger had long claws and a short temper when he was hungry, and fox knew too well what happened when you crossed a hungry badger.

“i have a proposition for you” Fox said smiling, “and it is one that you surely will enjoy”

“And what exactly might that be” Badger asked.

“Well you see” Fox continued “I know a place where you will find the juiciest worms.”

“Hmm” said badger.  “i do rather like worms.”

Smiling, Fox continued “all I ask is that you do a little digging for me, and in return you will have the most plump and juicy worms.”

Badger thought for a while.  He did enjoy digging, and he especially enjoyed plump and juicy worms.  “is it far?” he asked.

“Oh no no” Fox replied.  “Not far at all. In fact it is just over the brow of the hill and beyond the large oak tree.”

“That is not far at all” Badger replied.  “And I am yet to have my breakfast.”

“Perfect, just perfect” exclaimed Fox his bushy red tail swishing.  “How about we set off now then?”

With tummy grumbling badger followed Fox up the hill through the long green grass and over the brow and further on past he old oak tree.

After a short while the pair reached a small mound between two great sycamore trees which was covered in meadow flowers.  “Now Badger” Fox said, his eyed wide, If you would just be so kind as to dig through this mound here you will not only be doing me a huge favour but I believe that you will find some of the most plump and juicy worms in the wood.”

“I will?” Badger asked warily “And how do I know you aren’t lying Fox?”

“Oh my good fellow” Fox replied “I have it on very good authority I assure you.”

Badger’s tummy rumbled. “And why exactly am I digging?” he asked.

“It’s a new den for my family” Fox replied “but I have an ache in my paw and find it very hard to dig you see.”

It sounded reasonable badger thought, and with his tummy rumbling he began to dig.

Now badgers are very good at digging, much better than foxes – especially foxes with achy paws and it was not long until Badger had managed to uncover rather a lot of juicy worms, just as fox had promised.  As he chewed a particularly fat and juicy worm he asked fox “is this deep enough?”

“Just a little more” Fox replied.

Badger ate a little more and then dug a little more.  “How about now?”

“Just a little more still ” Fox replied.

“This is rather deep for a fox den” badger remarked slurping up an especially long and wriggly worm.

“it will keep us warm in the winter” Fox replied, his tail swishing back and forth in the morning sun. “okay, stop!” he shouted excitedly “That is just perfect.”

Nibbling on more worms in the freshly dug soil Badger backed slowly out of the hole.

“Splendid job, quite splendid” Fox exclaimed.  “i could surely never have dug so deep.”

“Is that it then?” Badger asked.  “All finished?”

“Oh indeed yes” Fox replied smiling.  “I can do the last bit of digging myself”

Badger turned and began to wander off.  “Thanks for the worms Fox” he shouted back.

Fox didn’t reply, he had already headed down his freshly dug hole and Badger could hear him digging furiously.

Badger ambled slowly back in the direction of the old oak tree, the warm sun spilling through the canopy of the wood in warm pools.

“Good morning Rabbit” said Badger as rabbit raound the old gnarled tree.”

“Goood day Badger” she said hurriedly “Cant stop, can’t stop for I have left my babies alone in the between the two great sycamores!”

 


Fancy something else?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/amble/

 

Photo courtesy of tpsdave@pixabay

 

Stream of Conscious Saturday – Guess

The challenge was to write, unedited, on the subject of “Guess”

Apparently this is the challenge…

“1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing, (typos can be fixed) and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.”

There are other rules and stuff which you can find here:

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Aug. 12/17

I intend to give myself a minute to come up with an idea and then just type and see what comes out.  Starting…NOW!


Karl really did not like parties, he was awkward at the best of times and parties tended to make it worse, but Rachel had invited him, and Rachel made his heart beat faster and forget the most basic of words.

Kyle, who as wholly more suited to parties than he was due to his fabulous hair and skinny jeans had always advised him to play it cool with women and to try and make her laugh, though right now he wanted nothing more than to scurry off home and watch TV.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around.  It was Rachel.

“Hey you !” she smiled giving him a hug “I am so glad you came!”

She smelled like vanilla milkshake, and he loved vanilla milkshake.  Not as much as banana but it was right up there.

“Hey yourself” was the best he could muster, holding onto her for a little longer than he probably should have.

She brushed her hair from her eyes and handed him a red cup of what he assumed was beer.

“Oh Guess what” she said excitedly putting her hand on his arm.

This was his chance Karl thought, Kyle’s words ringing in his ears.  He needed to be funny.  Make her laugh, girls loved to laugh right.

“Guess you say” he replied smiling awkwardly “Okay, lets see.  You have me at a disadvantage but I’ll give it a go.”

Karl rubbed his chin feigning contemplation.  Rachel looked a little confused.

“You’re really an alien and you’re here to take over the planet!” he exclaimed grinning.  Oh god please laugh.

Rachel did’t laugh, mostly she looked even more confused”

“No I was going to say…” Karl interrupted before she got to finish.

“Oh no wait, I’m not ready to give up yet” Karl continued.  “I love a challenge.”

Rachel took a drink from her cup and looked past him towards the door.  Karl knew he needed to make her laugh now or he might blow his chance.

“You were going to say that you wanted to get out of here and go somewhere quiet” he said trying his best to be cool and funny and seductive at the same time.

“Er no” Rachel replied taking another drink.  She paused for a moment, and Karl could sense someone stood behind him.

“Hey babe” said a voice which he instantly recognised as Kyles.

Rachel smiled uncomfortably “I was going to say I’d started seeing your mate and he was also coming tonight.”

 


Hmmm

Not easy that lark, you don’t really know where you’re going…or I didn’t.  I knew I wanted him to crash and burn and it to be awkward and to actually guess when she said “Guess what ” but that was it.  That took about 20 minutes and a few more to correct the typos which I fixed afterwards.  I found myself typing a bit slower that normal though to give myself chance to think…


 

 

Musings

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

Weekend Away – Daily Two-Word Prompt #102 / Daily Prompt

Flo and Darren plan a dirty weekend away…

A couple I know, call them Darren and Flo

Decided some “them” time was needed

So they packed off the boys, with their books clothes and toys

to grand parents to whom they had pleaded

 

“Please just for tonight, they said they won’t fight

and we’ll set off back early to home

they’re really not bad, and we’d be oh so glad!”

half a weekend away – all alone!

 

To a hotel they drove, up the coast near the cove

lovely beach, seafood joint and big bed 😉

“This is just what we need!” Flo declared, he agreed

“Dirty weekend away!” Darren said.

 

Hand on thigh as they drive,  not too late they arrive

short trek, they retire to the bed

“in the mood?” he enquires,  but alas it transpires

Flo then asks for some pills for her head.

 

“Just unpack – in a while, I’ll be fine” Flo does smile

“Then I’m yours you can do as you will!

you can tie me and ravage, go to town get quite savage

but for now will you get me my pill?”

 

“Yes of course” he agrees… he would tremble her knees

just like when they first met way back when

and they’d make love all night – what a glorious sight

they’d skip breakfast and start it again.

 

But to his great despair, fast asleep in the chair

he awakes with a knock at the door

Knock, Knock, Knock  “it’s House keeping… you awake or you sleeping?””

The evening had promised much more!

.

Still a breakfast enjoyed as they talk of the boys

and how odd it is here all alone

“Do you think they’re okay?” Daz to Flo then does say

“Let me call them quick, pass me my phone”

 

It turns out they were fine, “slept from 8 through ’till 9

been no bother at all!” Gran does say

“Did you have a good night, was the hotel alright,

shall I tell them you’re now on you’re way?”

 

“So perhaps not quite bliss” Darren says with a kiss

and Flo smiles as he kisses her head

“at least we slept well, and were rested and hell

we woke up with no kids in the bed!”

 


Fancy something else?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/


https://teresacreationsblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/daily-two-word-prompt-102/


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/spicy/

Picture courtesy of espressoili @ pixabay

End of days #writephoto challenge

Of life and death

Maleban the Elder stands alone, the last of his kind, remnant of all that was but that is no more.  His people are all gone now, returned to dust, and the final fiery moments of this world are his alone to witness.

A slow ascent into a hungry sun is his fate, and as proud custodian of the memories of a once glorious people he stands and calls upon his ancestors, the long forgotten ways of his people and the gods of old.

Eyes closed and arms wide he embraces the end of all days as lifetimes past, present and future disappear and are lost to the universe forever.


Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent


Want something different?  THIS is different and THIS is way different.  This is …well you probably shound’t read THIS

What has gone before

The slow passage of time

My crack at a 75 word piece on the picture of that rock up there for Friday Fictioneers


Before you I watched and I waited.  Before trees and ice and flame I was alone and the world was silent and time passed without record.

I watched you crawl into existence with so much promise, and I witnessed fleetingly your true light and the beauty within.

But having everything was never enough for you, and you were consumed by your desires and the darkness that lurks in your hearts.

I do not miss you.


75 words!  Boom!

Photo courtest of , c.e. ayr

Partner – Daily prompt

No lies, it’s about precisely nothing

Upon seeing the daily prompt, ‘Partner’, I would imagine that I was not alone in thinking that this would be an ideal opportunity to write a piece on my relationship with my wife.  It would be insightful and honest and lay bare the ups and downs of a modern relationship.

I imagined that I would share wisdom and experience in a light hearted yet uplifting way and it would prove enlightening and encouraging for others as they would see their own relationship in ours.  I would talk about love and compromise and friendship and laughter and…

Okay…I’ll stop there.  I can’t type that with a straight face.

I was mostly going to write about the impact of going to the toilet in front of one’s partner.  I had also considered something humorous on how to be certain that the kids are asleep and not just pretending and instead hatching a plan to burst into the bedroom with a “Surprise!!!” at the most inopportune moment.

Both of those will not now see the light of day though as I mentioned the general ‘Partner’ subject to my wife and her reaction was “as long as you don’t write about me I don’t care what you write.”  There was no malice in it though she did, quite coincidentally, have a rather large knife in her hand at the time so I took her advice seriously.

Therefore, this is mostly a piece about what you will not be reading, so I posted it with a picture of a cat just because.


Want to read more of my stuff?

This is kinda funny

and this kind of sad

This was just fun


 

Https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/partner/

Photo courtesy of cocopasasienne @ Pixabay

Jeffrey and Cho – FFFAW Challenge

Just a poem about a couple of blokes on a tandem.

Jeffrey and Cho

Had a bike that was slow

Though two people it sure could convey

They would ride through the town

Knees go up knees go down

Every month every week every day

 

“I am sure out of breath!”

Said a quite knackered Jeff

As he pedalled from A to point B

“As am I ” said young Cho

“Not sure why we’re so slow?”

Because no one can pedal like thee

 

Now Jeff pondered the fact

He was thin, Cho was fat

And each day they would cycle non stop

They would eat quite the same

So that wasn’t to blame

He thought as they rode from the shop

 

It was only by chance

That Jeff caught a quick glance

Of how Cho chose to coast as they slowed

“My god!” he exclaimed

It was cho who’s to blame

For their leisurely pace on the road

 

And from that moment on

The Tandem was gone

And Jeff’s bought a bike of his own

Now cho spends his days

on the xbox he plays

And my, how his belly has grown


Photo courtesy of Dorothy


Want to read more of my stuff?

This is about kinda funny

and this kind of sad

This was just fun

More miserable and inappropriate limericks – Not for the kiddies

Limericks about the darker side of life….Today I think I shall perhaps write about sexual harassment in the work place.

Limericks about the darker side of life….Today I think I shall perhaps write about sexual harassment in the work place, prison abuse and the evils of drugs.  All of which I know absolutely nothing.     Remember, It’s not big and it’s not clever…any of this.


A lass at our work called Tallulah

Approached a young lad with a ruler

proclaimed “Three and a half”

He:”You’re having a laugh, 

and it’s cold so do not let that fool ya”!


 

 

A young lad caught fiddling the books 

got locked up with the rapists and crooks

spent his days filled with dread

frightful thoughts in his head 

pretty mouth, lovely hair, rugged looks


A woman I knew, Enid Black

smoked some weed for an ache in her back 

then she dabbled in coke 

which she got from “some bloke” 

Now spends all day selling boobies for crack


 

There was another here but I think it goes too far but I struggle with boundaries…so if you choose to read it you have to scroll and scroll and scroll. 


 

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

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Husband wants rape sex role play

“Bloody hell no!” says wifey “No way!”

“That the spirit!” he cries

all ‘Trumpesque’ grabs her thighs

Now hes single, in jail, wife turned gay


 

More tea vicar ? 

I should warn that should you read further you could find my post somewhat inappropriate, though that could also be down to you.  I am not one to judge.


I have written on the matter of tea twice already this week, and as a proud Englishman and Yorkshireman I believe that it is a subject worth revisiting.

Not that I am particularly fond of the stuff, I am not.  But seeing the daily prompt I was reminded of something of a running battle that has raged in our house for a number of years now.

I should warn that should you read further you could find my post a little inappropriate, though that could also be down to you.  I am not one to judge.

My wife insists on insisting, much to my frustration, that on a hot day a nice cup of tea will cool one down.  Now before you rush off to Google to see whether it has a voice on the matter I will confess that any answers it may provide could possibly be construed as confirming that fact.  There are posts on the science of heating one’s core to trigger the bodies natural cooling mechanisms.

I do not care one jot what Google says on the matter, if you are drinking a scalding cup of anything on a boiling hot day it will inevitably make you feel somewhat sweatier than a nice pinacolada will.

Despite pointing that out to her, the merest mention of sunshine and she is ready to trot out her well worn offering of a nice cup of tea knowing that I will both refuse her not at all kind offer but also rant and rage much to her pleasure.

I do however get to occasionally exercise my revenge, which is always best served cold, unlike tea.   It’s important to note at this point that my wife likes to leave the tea bag in the cup as she drinks her tea.

If we have visitors then I like to ask her, loudly and in front of as many of them as is possible (and if children are about even better), “Do you want ‘teabagin’ hun?”

The pleasure is amplified if I can get my 9 yeah old to shout it.  “Mum, dad wants to know if you want teabagin.”

At worse I will be the recipient of a withering look, and if I am lucky I will be on the sharp end of rolling eyes and a “god, what are you 13 years old!”

I may not win them all but when I do, the sweetness of battle is oh so delicious…

 


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/Tea/

 


More? You could see if you like any of this

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/24/screw-you-haiku/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tea/

Thanks!

I Just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone that has clicked, read, liked and followed me since I turned up on here just a couple of weeks ago.

I Just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone that has clicked, read, liked and followed me since I turned up on here just a couple of weeks ago.

I had no idea what I was going to write when I started, knowing only that I wanted to put pen to paper.  I thought perhaps I needed a message or a theme but I have simply just enjoyed writing whatever takes my fancy.

I won’t labour the point, but again just thanks for popping by and helping make this a hugely rewarding experience.

 

 

 

 

 

The hidden depths of men.  Thursday photo prompt – Mask #writephoto

“All I really wanted to do was spend a bit more time down the pub and read a bit, but you should see my foxtrot, I’m not bad you know”

“If you ask me” Gerald insisted, “feelings are wholly overrated!”  He took a long slug from his beer and stared into the flames. “Jane is always wanting me to share things and open up, but that’s just not me you know” he continued.

“I always try and explain that to my wife” Thomas answered, placing more wood on the fire, “I tell her that I am just not that deep but she seems desperate for me to share some inner most thoughts.  I don’t really have any though.”.

Gerald nodded in agreement.  “You know, once I actually made some stuff up about me having some hidden pain in my past that I didn’t want to talk about”

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“We were young, she was hot and I thought it might make me more interesting.”  He finished the beer and reached into the cool box for another.  “She always loved poetry and those arty films and stuff and I figured I might stand more of a chance if I pretended to have some inner demons.”

“Many things you are mate, but deep you are not.  Unless of course you count the love of beer and football and pies as something that makes you whimsical or brooding or whatever the hell it is she wants” Thomas laughed.

“I know, and now she’s forever wanting me to talk about stuff.  She even suggested I see somebody because she thinks I’m repressed.” Gerald said, scratching his head.  “Turns out I’m just not that interesting but 20 years into a marriage I’m not really sure what I can do.”

“So what’s set her off then, has she always been like this, you’ve not mentioned it before.”

Gerald waited before replying, he wasn’t really sure.  “Maybe with the kids being gone we have less things to distract us.  We had Elsie so quickly and the twins followed not long after.  I think she might be bored too.”

“Mate, that happened to us” Thomas said “I ended up taking dance classes with her and writing a travel blog because she thought we needed to enrich our lives more and enjoy the time we had together.”

“Did it work?”

“All I really wanted to do was spend a bit more time down the pub and read a bit, but you should see my foxtrot, I’m not bad you know”

The door to the house opened and Jane’s head popping through “Come on you two, I know you’re probably deep in conversation but dinner is ready.  You can come tell us what you’ve been talking about”

 


 

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

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 


https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/3193846/posts/1532690515

Thursday photo prompt – Mask #writephoto

A letter to my wife – Gate – Daily prompt

Today I walked past your old house and thought of you.  With it’s red brick wall and it’s grey slate roof it looked just as it did all those years ago when we first met

To my dearest Jane.

Today I walked past your old house and thought of you.  With it’s red brick wall and it’s grey slate roof it looked just as it did all those years ago when we first met…just older I guess.  I like to think that perhaps it would say the same of us and smile and remember us the way we were.

It would remember how I walked past every morning on the way to school hoping to see you, even though that was the long way round, and it would laugh to see how I walked ever so slightly slower as I passed by.

The tales it would tell of how you eventually noticed me and we would walk together each day and  I would watch that old metal gate swing closed each evening as you waved goodbye and you would head inside and be lost to me until morning.   It would tell the story of how I first kissed you there in the snow at the end of term and it would make you blush and look at me with that smile you always had for me.

The years flew by so very fast didn’t they, but if it could it would remind us of the life we lived, the love we shared and the laughter that filled every day,  It would tell us of the things we had forgotten and how happy we were when we moved in and made it ours, and the years that passed as we filled it with a family of our own.

It would recall quite clearly how you would wave the kids off each day as they headed to school, and then eventually work until they left and made homes of their own.

As time slipped by you would lean upon that old gate post when your legs became so very tired and It remembers so clearly too the day when you left in the ambulance but you never came back.

I like to think that it would smile and wink at me if it saw me, and it would forgive me for leaving, but I could not stay after you were gone.  There were children playing in the garden and they looked happy Jane.  I hope they are as happy as we were.

I will miss you always and you remain forever in my heart.

Your ever loving husband.

Charles

 

 


 

Want to read more of my stuff?  There’s a few links below you might like.  It’s not all like that I promise.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

 

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/Gate/

 

 

I took a 30 year break – Dormant – Daily Prompt

That Christmas I asked for a typewriter, thinking that I had found my calling, and I bashed out a few teen angst inspired poems about solitude and rainy days …

I have always wanted to write.  Or I thought I did.  When I was 17 I scribbled a story in a large black book my dad stole from work one summer.  I don’t remember what it was about, but I do know that Victor Visser borrowed it to read and never gave it back!

That Christmas I asked for a typewriter, thinking that I had found my calling, and I bashed out a few teen angst inspired poems about solitude and rainy days before succumbing to rage and frustration and a realisation that the I could not type and would be spending all of my time correcting what I had bashed out.

I did very little after that with the exception of a Tolkien inspired epic poem which I worked on when I was in the Army just after I left school.  I have no idea what happened to it but I still remember the opening even after 28 years:

“The swirling veils of morning mist

were swept aside as morning kissed 

the sleeping lands that lay below

and waking winds began to blow.”

I think the rest was about a quest and an evil force and a ring and some wizards and…well you get the idea.  Mostly thievery.

And that, as far as I recall was it.  For a short while I thought Journalism was for me but I never did anything about it, I mostly just had an itch which I left unscratched.

Fast forward three decades, a wife, 2 kids, mortgage, career and a load of stuff in between I found myself inspired by a friend to look at WordPress just over a fortnight ago.  Well, I will be honest, it has been rather fun and wholly addictive and after nearly 30 years I have managed to write some of the things I always wanted to but didn’t know I did.

I have no idea how one should write, I do not know whether full stops go before speech marks and the structure of a good story is beyond me.  I do know though that I am loving doing it, even if it is a shambles.

Perhaps it was how easy it was to set up, maybe the joy of writing, perhaps it was the thrill of someone actually liking something I wrote or maybe just the joy of finishing something I meant to do so long ago but never got round to.

Whatever it is, my wife hopes I put that shelf up in the kitchen sooner than it took me to do this because I also assured her, in a very similar way, that ensuring she has somewhere to put the pans is something I want to do very much, if only I could find my spirit level.

 


Want to read more of my stuff that’s not about me but about Aliens and zombies and people and rude poems and life and stuff?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

 

 

 

 

 

Https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/Dormant/

 

 

Is it really so bad ?

I, like most of you , am probably prone to over exaggeration.  If I were to say “I am going to kill the kids if they leave a towel on the bathroom floor again” then I think you probably know what I mean and where I am heading with this.  Unless of course I am prone to killing children for acts of untidiness  – which I am not. 

Just to be absolutely clear on that matter – I have not nor will I kill my children for leaving a bit of a mess in the upstairs bathroom.

Equally, as it turns out I did not actually nearly die when filling up my car recently despite me insisting to my wife to the contrary.  My life did not flash before my eyes, I was not filled with the urge to hold my sons one last time, and I did not re-evaluate my existence as a consequence of paying £1.20 a litre.

I also had to reconsider whether leaving a chicken in the oven for what was maybe 15 minutes too long last Sunday – resulting in the breasts being a little dry – was in fact the disaster I supposed.  Would I classify the lack of moistness as a serious disruption, occurring over a relatively short time, of a community or a society involving widespread human, material, economic or environmental loss and impacts, which exceeds the ability of the affected community or society to cope using its own resources?  

Probably not, I just made a little extra gravy. 

With the realisation that I am prone to such exaggerations I ask myself whether I will perhaps use more appropriate language in the future. 

No, obviously not and I am sure you feel the same.

I will still insist that I very nearly soil myself every time something surprises me and I will continue to insist that the neighbour, who drives so terribly, is indeed as blind as a bat and by that token navigates via sonar.  No one ever became excited or intrigued and leaned in with great interest upon being told that they are absolutely going to believe a tale I am about to tell. 

There is a joy in exaggeration, a freedom and a licence to share an excitement that is ours and which we simply want others to feel.  It helps us express, albeit lazily, the things we feel and lets us get straight to the somewhat more mundane details of the thing we are expressing.

 

 

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/disastrous/

Cold Stone – An FFfAW Chalenge

If the cold stone steps could speak they would tell a tale of generations past; of family; of love; of loss and of time that slips by in the blink of an eye.  Worn by so many feet, endless journeys up and down making their way through life one step at a time. 

Sometimes skipped, hastily ran and often laboured they endure season after season as the world grew, changed shape, died and was renewed.

Children become adults and pass into nothing and they remain as the sun comes and goes – even more slowly – marking the passing of time and warming their slowly worn surface as it passes across the sky until again the laughter of childhood returns.

Time is unkind and cruel, passing so quickly for man but for those things more permanent it brings a sadness of things long lost and the hope of joy still to come. 

Photo courtesy of J.S. Brand

 

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/07/17/fffaw-challenge-week-of-july-18-2017/

 

Armitage – Part 5

Koala Jackson was consumed by exactly none of the fear or trepidation that filled Armitage whenever he considered what lie before him.   In fact, she possessed mostly none of the attributes which made Armitage the opposite of whatever would likely pass as perfect for this mission.  Not to say he did not have admirable qualities, he did, but the ability to work with spreadsheets, support charities or put up a small shelf in the kitchen were highly unlikely to be required at any point in the near future.

With Close to two dozen rift missions under her belt, Koala was as close to a veteran of these things as you were going to find.   At 6 ft 2 she posed a striking figure, especially for a woman – which she quite obviously was.  Throw in piercing blue eyes, broad shoulders and a rather intimidating yet situationally perfect crew cut she was not to be trifled with.  Drop her into military fatigues and pop a couple of weapons in her surprisingly elegant hands and trifling was the furthest thing from Armitage’s mind.  This was most certainly a non trifling situation.

“Shanks!” she shouted over as Armitage stepped from the car, “Front and centre.  You too Goodwin!”

Goodwin scurried over, pulling on Armitage’s sleeve to hurry him along.  He’d seen enough television to know what she meant by ‘front and centre’ he just never quite imagined he’d need to be either front or centre and the confusion showed on his face as she barked again.

“Move it Shanks, we don’t have all day!”

“I really do think there has been a terrible misunderstanding ” he said gingerly, his feet shifting uncomfortably as he spoke.

“Did the receptionist send you?” she asked

Armitage confirmed with a nod and mumbled unintelligibly about clerical errors and voices in his head.

“Then there is no mistake.  The receptionist does not make mistakes!”

It was at this point, looking about, that he realised that a couple of slices of marmalade on toast and a cup of tea were not going to get him through the day.   He knew where he was, but it was very much changed from the last time he was here.  The Local football team ground had been commandeered by the Rift Police and the large car park to the front of the ground, where he now found himself, was now home to row upon row of military green tents.  Large stacks of crates were dotted about here and there and the place swarmed with gnarled looking , heavily armed, military types.

“Don’t look so worried shanks!” barked Jackson loudly, “What’s the worst that can happen eh?”

Armitage was pretty sure that she was making a joke, but the stony look on her face quite the opposite and he wondered for a moment whether this was a question.  Armitage had a good imagination, and right now he could picture plenty of things that would be considerably worse than that which he would have imagined were he asked the same question less than 24 hours earlier.

Jackson continued, addressing both Armitage and Goodwin jointly.  “Now I imagine you want to know why you’re here”.  She did not wait for him to respond.  “You have been  been chosen by the receptionist to accompany me and my team into the rift at 18 hundred hours. ”

Armitage felt suddenly rather unwell.  His brain insisted, quite elegantly and persuasively,  that it was simply a ludicrous idea to even consider such a thing, and who the devil did the council think it was to be asking perfectly unassuming members of the public to undertake what was quite obviously a military mission.  It was not on and he would like to speak to whomever was in charge because this simply would not do.

Unfortunately, all of this came out as a rather unconvincing “Mnneeegghh”.

“Excellent” she said, “well now that that is all squared away Goodwin will show you to your tent and get you settled” and with that she strode off purposely towards the tents and disappeared.

Armitage stood for a while then looked across at Goodwin.  “This way then Armitage” he said, almost cheerily, and set off in the same general direction as Jackson.

Entering the large green tent it was everything he had ever seen on television, back when there was any television to speak of.  Two rows of four beds lined each side of the tent and to the right of the head of each bed there was a small metal cupboard and at the foot of the bed a large green metal trunk.  Piled neatly on the end of the bed was a sheet, blanket, pillow and pillow case.

“Pick any one ” instructed Goodwin, waving a hand towards the beds “might be worth making up the bed too in case you want to grab some sleep before things get a bit crazy.”

“Why am I here?” Armitage asked emptily.

Goodwin chuckled and sat on the edge of one of the beds, his hands folded in his lap.  It was always the same routine.  The Receptionist picks them out, lands him with them and he has to explain why some poor regular run of the mill nobody is about to pop into a rift in time and space.

“Pretty simple really ” he answered, “Turns out you’re most probably genetically predisposed to rift travel.”

Goodwin paused for dramatic effect, his slightly too apart eyes not blinking to heighten the tension.  This was his favourite part.  “I say probably because it did go wrong once and …” He paused again.  “Well lets just say that should this not go well your wife will receive a rather nice bouquet of flowers and a card expressing the council’s sincerest condolences. ”

Armitage thought he was going to be sick again.  He seemed to be feeling this way a lot today and he was pretty sure that it was nothing to do with the marmalade.

“There are things to see and places to go in this universe Armitage,  well beyond that which you could ever comprehend” he continued, “and we need your unique genetic code unlock the rift to allow Jackson and her team to pass through.”

“Oh this is bloody stupid” he replied, the combination of nausea and confusion overwhelming him somewhat.  That was all he could muster other than “I really don’t feel well at all”.

“Lie down a while” replied Goodwin still smiling “It will be fine.” He paused again.  “Probably”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image :https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=e48dXtHN&id=A5ABBE65EF8506F45F1B27322227D48F9A7408A2&thid=OIP.e48dXtHNxGyT3KHbFDIFngEkEs&q=another+dimension&simid=608012592998056987&selectedIndex=77&ajaxhist=0

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bernard and Charles – Daily prompt

“Ill tell you what Charles” said Bernard, shuffling his newspaper and staring out of the large communal room window.  His eyes followed an older woman in a blue dress being walked by a small pack of dogs on the lawn outside. “Things are a lot better than they used to be you know”.

“Uh-huh, is that so?” replied Charles distantly, not looking up from his cross word and scratching his head through a thick mop of white hair.  He was having a real problem with three across.

“Oh yes, absolutely” Bernard insisted.  “Look at the world now.  It’s not like in our day Charles.  Kids don’t know how lucky they have it.”

Charles muttered loudly “20th century Canadian Liberal, four letters”?

Bernard wasn’t listening, intent only on voicing his opinions whilst continuing to watch the woman in the blue dress, who was now struggling to disentangle herself from the dog leashes which were now wrapped around her legs.

“They never had to deal with any of the things we had to deal with in our day you know!”

Charles lifted his head from his crossword.  “And what was it we had to deal with Bernard?” he asked.  Three across was really starting to frustrate him.

Bernard fell quiet, staring out of the window, his eyes fixed somewhere in the distance.

Charles knew it was mean of him to do that, he knew that Bernard wouldn’t remember.  He never did.

The woman in the blue dress had lost her battle with the dogs and was now attempting pick up a jack Russell in one hand and at the same time prevent the Chihuahua from attempting to mount a rather indifferent looking Rottweiler with the other.

Suddenly Bernard returned to the room, his face animated.  “Now that’s ambition Charles” he exclaimed, pointing towards the woman in the blue dress.

“Look at that, that little bugger doesn’t know it’s a Chihuahua!  It thinks it’s a Rottweiler Charles!”.

Charles looked over, smiling at his old friend.  “Indeed it does Bernard, indeed it does”

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/grit/

 

 

 

 

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

I do not have a dog, and his name is not Caper.  That is to say If I did have a trusted canine companion, then I am sure that Caper would be his name.  Not Brian, nor Carl.

 

 

I do not have a dog, and his name is not Caper.  That is to say If I did have a trusted canine companion, then I am sure that Caper would be his name.  Not Brian, nor Carl.

We do not go for long walks, and I do not have a special stick that I throw for him which he retrieves with such pleasure, dropping it at my feed for a treat and great praise.  If though , as I have supposed,  I did have a dog – named Caper (not Brian nor Carl)  – then we would most definitely enjoy the outdoors more than I do now and he would always be there for me through thick and thin as only a dog called caper could be.

I do not have a dog named Caper and Caper and I do not sit on the couch on a Saturday night and watch television and eat pizza together, but if we did it would definitely be pepperoni because that would be his favourite I am sure and Caper would almost certainly eat the crusts that I leave.

Because I do not have a dog named Caper, each morning I am not awakened by him, and he is not happy to see me as much today as yesterday but not quite as much as he will be tomorrow.

I do not have a dog, and his name is not Caper and he did not run out into the road in front of a car.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/caper/

via Daily Prompt: Caper

 

Welcome to Afterwards

You won’t leave feeling affirmed or inspired but you might just crack a smile at something you shouldn’t, and that is okay because I wont tell anybody. Someone even laughed out loud once but then had to pretend it was something funny they read elsewhere because it was wholly inappropriate and they were a bit ashamed but mostly amused.

You won’t leave feeling affirmed or inspired but you might just crack a smile at something you shouldn’t, and that is okay because I wont tell anybody.  Someone even laughed out loud once but then had to pretend it was something funny they read elsewhere because it was wholly inappropriate and they were a bit ashamed but mostly amused.