Somewhat starvin’ Marvin

I have no idea why.

Now a chap I knew could not contain the things he daily ate

no matter what he had and piled so high upon his plate

He’d gorge and feed his hungry face, sweet scollops, cakes and trout

then suddenly without fair warning it would come back out


He’d dine on steaks and fries and eat a pizza with meat on it

then forcefully with gusto great came forth projectile vomit

A meagre mouthful would result in gagging and some retching

one time he even soiled his trousers, brown on cream – quite fetching


Okay so I will stop there.  I recognise that sometimes I go a little far but this is just a bit weird.  I think it was funnier in my head than I can actually do on paper.  I then also got to thinking just what might make him so very unwell and think maybe he might just have a nervous disposition rather than it being an eating disorder.  At that point I now find myself thinking that he would probably then just have stayed home which is pretty sad and the likelihood of him having a wife or girlfriend is pretty slim so it’s really just descending into a pretty sorry tale and all a bit depressing.

Seemed a shame to waste a good title and picture so I guess I will just leave it there.  Feel free to finish it if you like.

Plus, there isn’t really a word that rhymes with hungry and even puke and barf are pretty limited so it was never going to end well.




Hairy Teddy Tucker

I have no idea why.

Now it seems Ted has a passion for the trendy and for fashion

And the feel of fabric tight against his skin

Now he’s a manly man don’t doubt it but sometimes he cannot fight it

And into a little red dress he’ll slip in


Loves the way it makes him look just like a model from a book

Or so he tells himself so as to not feel weird

How it accentuates his form and no it might not be the norm

But he also thinks it goes well with his beard


He feels quite confident and hot and his wife doesn’t mind one jot

In fact she likes the way it makes his bottom look

Though as it’s rather sheer some things do stand out, oh dear

She suggest perhaps he might just try a tuck


So with his package put away and sexily his hips do sway

And he feels gorgeous and quite special, rather girly

Lips full they taste of cherry glass of wine he’s feeling merry

And to the bedroom leads the way his tuck unfurling


Sweet sweet dumpster lovin’ – AUDIO

An exercise in wrongness.

There are things that I think and write that I know I should be ashamed of and that I ought to not mutter but I do, and I don’t feel a great deal of shame at all, which in turns makes me again think that I ought to be ashamed of myself and then I’m  not and then…well you get the idea.  This one is about having relations with homeless people and that’s disgusting I know.  Thinking it that is, not homeless people.  Or homeless people having sex.  They’re quite entitled to do whatever they want.  Just because you sleep in a box in an underpass does not mean that you cant enjoy a Dutch reverse wheelbarrow with someone you just shared a bottle of floor cleaner with.


I’m sorry.  I will go make a donation to a homeless charity once I press send.  Feel free to read or listen to it or maybe just give it a miss.



There’s a bloke called Marcel Has a story to tell

As he has a quite dark fascination

See for tramps he gets hot and he’s ready to trot

With the down and out down at the station


Loves the way that they smell Oh dear twisted Marcel

He just can’t get enough all the while

Kindly gives a few bucks when theyre down on their luck

Sits and hangs out with them with a smile


He enjoys carnal sins round the back of the bins

Hobo loving he can’t get his fill

He’s the local wild funster getting hot in a dumpster

Black toothed cavernous mouth – oh the thrill


Dirty fingers hair matted they’re the cure for his flacid

Manhood he’s so proud and excited

A homeless three way really did make his day

and he heads home satisfied and excited.




Moonstruck Repercussions – In the Dark 6

By the light of the silvery mooooooon

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


Scratch howl and bark

lend ear and hark

Soul tortured by the moon

danger most stark

turned at the lark

Dark hunger sated soon


Feel burning mark

And so embark

to love and hope immune

journey most dark

new patriarch

And dance to hunger’s tune

Silly n Sexy – In the Dark 5

Imagine the scene if you will…

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.  These pieces tend to be excerpts and flashes of something that could be.

You can see the prompts here.

The scene: A bench between A cherry blossom, petals falling gently on the late summer breeze as the sun sets and night Descends.  Our couple find themselves alone and high on the intoxicating thrill of the first flushes of romance.


He: Go on, squeeze it.  It’s okay.

She: Oh you are bad.

(Jumps as it honks.  Giggling pushes hair behind her ear)

She: It really is rather big isn’t it.

He: If you think that’s big then wrap your eyes around this!

She: (gasps) Oh my.  That’s so huge.  What size is it?  Is everything so big.  (winks and giggles)

He: Oh yes, and this will make your eyes water I am sure. (raises one eyebrow)

She: (More gasps and slight squeal)

He: Oh my dear indeed, I am glad you approve.

She: May I touch it?

(Lights dim, stars come out.  Awkward pause ensues)

She:  Shrieks as it empties all over her face

He: Gotcha (loud laughter.  Slaps thigh)

She: (Smiling) Oh you are terrible.

He:  You’re all wet, here let me dry you.  I should have warned you it has a hair trigger and goes off at the slightest touch.

She: Oh I love it, once it starts it just never stops coming.

He: (Blushing) I am indeed a man of many talents.

She:  Any many handkerchiefs it seems.  (Gasps and claps as he pulls handkerchiefs from his sleeve)


Scene closes as our the camera pans away, the circus tent in the background and fades to black.

Blushing Authenticity – In the Dark 4

What darkness lies in the hearts of men?

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead. I did them all in December but was less successful in January. Let’s see how we do in February shall we. These pieces tend to be excerpts and flashes of something that could be. The exploration of an idea…I htink I will allow myself 500 words for this one.

You can see the prompts here.

Simon punched snooze on his alarm and settled back onto his pillow.

“Just 5 minutes more” he mumbled to himself and closed his eyes. But as quickly as he had closed them they were suddenly wide open and he sat upright in bed. Today was the day that it would arrive.

He slipped from his bed, dragged on his clothes and headed downstairs to fired up his Laptop. He opened his Browser and logged onto the tracking company website.

Estimated time of Delivery 9am-11am

He grinned with excitement, grabbed the sales brochure and settled into his chair to wait. He flicked almost instinctively to the page for his model.

“Built of the finest cutting edge materials the M7 is designed to provide the most realistic and sensuous experience in synthetic partnerships. With 18 points of pivot and flex and a full range of customisation features this is industry leading technology at a price as certain to please in the pocket as it is in the bedroom”

He had saved every penny he could scrape together, working double shifts and picking up extra work on weekends. Even once he had the money finding a supplier that could produce everything that he wanted wasn’t easy but through an online group he had eventually found someone who could give him just what he needed.

He flicked through the brochure again. He’d been alone for so long now, this was was going to take some adjustment.

“Created to cater for both your physical and emotional needs your synthetic partner will be fine tuned to your personality and desires and our 100 point real time compatibility matrix ensures that even when you don’t know what you need your SP does.”

A sudden knock at the door caused him to jump and he sprang to his feet. It was 9:25. He opened the heavy metal door and a tall man handed him a small electronic tablet. “Sign please” he said without looking up. Simon really didn’t care how rude he was and ran his thumb over the screen and a light pinged green. The courier mumbled a thanks and turned away leaving a large plainly wrapped box behind.

Simon hurriedly carried it inside and placed it on the table in the small kitchenette. His pulse was racing. He took a small knife and carefully cut along the seam down the middle of the box and then peeled the halves open. Nestled in the packaging was a card which he took out.

On behalf of SP Industries we thank you for your customer and we are certain that you will be 100% happy with your purchase. All you need to do to initiate your SP is to place your thumb on the reader plate on the bottom of the left foot. We would though ask that you verify that you are in receipt of the model you ordered, detailed on the back of this card, before initiation as refunds cannot be accepted once initiated.

Simon flicked the card over and smiled.

MODEL/M7 Synthetic Partner/Red Hair/Green Eyes/Age 7

Daily Prompt – Confess

In a not too distant future perhaps…

Gemma lay her head on James’ chest and he smiled.  Two months they’d been together now and James still couldn’t believe how lucky he was.  The world had changed a lot in the last decade and to find someone as amazing as her really was something special.

She pressed herself into him sighing and he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“You’re amazing” he said and closed his eyes.  “There’s something I need to tell you though“he continued.

He felt her tense slightly.  “Okay” she said slowly.  She could hear his heart racing furiously in his chest.

“It’s about my dad” he said, “there’s a reason you’ve never met him.”

“Uh-huh” she said listening “you said he left in 2020, when the wall went up and the Emperor was crowned.”

James paused.

“It wasn’t just his politics” he continued, eyes still closed.

“What was it?” Gemma asked.  “It’s okay babe, you can trust me.”

James breathed deep.

“My dad was one quarter African American.  That makes me one sixteenth.”

Gemma said nothing and time seemed to stand still.

“Babe?” he said opening his eyes.

“Shit James” she said sitting upright.

“What?” he asked, face now ashen.  “What is it…”

She turned slowly to look at him, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m MAGA James.  I have to report this.”

Beads of Sweat – Room 101

 He ran his tongue slowly across her stomach, bead of sweat pooling on her soft pale skin. 

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

He ran his tongue slowly across her stomach, caressing her as beads of sweat pooled on her soft pale skin.  He breathed deep, her perfume filling his senses and his heart racing.

“I’ve wanted this for so long” he said tasting her on his lips, “I knew we were meant to be.”

Running his coarse hands the length of her outstretched body he pulled himself on top of her.

“I love the taste of your sweat” he whispered in her ear.

He paused.

“God, what was I thinking” he said licking his lips and laughing “let’s start again.  Dead flesh can’t sweat”

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Incessant Dreaming – Room 101

Each night since he moved in the woman from the picture filled his dreams.  Her red hair, cherry lips and alabaster skin consuming him.  

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt



Each night since he moved in the woman from the picture filled his dreams.  Her red hair, cherry lips and alabaster skin consuming him.

“Stay with me” she would ask, and he would swear he would remain but with mornings advent they were parted.

“Why do you forsake me” she asked,  “don’t you love me?”

“I do” he insisted, “with everything”.

“Then you know what to do.”

As his limp hand dropped the bottle of sleeping tablets, his life ebbing away, she appeared one final time – her face now a mask of death.

“Sleep” she said smiling, “welcome to my home.”


Photo courtesy of pixabay

Scalloped edges – Room 101

Edmund slammed his fist on the table in frustration.  The edges were always so difficult to get right, and now it was ruined.

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

Edmund slammed his fist on the table in frustration.  The edges were always so difficult to get right, and now it was ruined.

“One more go” he said to himself angrily holding it up so Melanie could see it from where she sat shackled to the bed.

“Look what you made me do with your crying ” he shouted, eyes bulging.

He picked up the knife from the table, walked across and cut open her shirt, exposing the tattoos that covered her shoulders, back and arms.

His eyes narrowed, nostrils flared.

“How am I supposed to make anything with that” he roared.


Photo courtesy of pixabay

A Chance Meeting – Room 101

Waiting for the lights to turn Ichabod felt something pressed into the palm of his hand. 

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt


Waiting for the lights to turn Ichabod felt something pressed into the palm of his hand.

“What the…” he mumbled spinning round to see a tall pale man in a long dark coat walk away through rush hour crush.

‘For what you have done, today you will die at 8am’ the note read.

Glancing down at his watch he laughed to himself as he stepped out into the road, and in that moment three things went through his mind.

The first was “It’s already 8:59 you dumb fu…”, closely followed by “Oh bugger, daylight savings”, and the third was the number 34 bus.

Photo courtesy of pixabay

Musical Undertones – Room 101

Caleb cradled the pistol in his lap, face contorted in pain, unable to to block out the sound of the piano.

Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

Caleb cradled the pistol in his lap, face contorted in pain, unable to block out the sound of the piano. It was Rachmaninoff’s no.2, her favourite piece. He’d watched her perform it the evening they first met.

Every morning he awoke and he could hear it and it never stopped until he closed his eyes to sleep. It’s emptiness, soaring heights, consuming passions and raging emotions all reminders of what he had done and that which he had hidden for so many years.

Enough. He put the pistol in his mouth.

Rebecca smiled, closed the piano lid, and drifted into nothing.

Photo courtesy of lailajuliana @ pixabay

Prolonged Agony – Room 101

From the corner of the room Gary looked down at his cold and lifeless body spread-eagled, face down, on the bed. 


Thanks to Michelle for the prompt

From the corner of the room Gary looked down at his cold and lifeless body spread-eagled, face down, on the bed.

“Oh shit” he thought as a crime scene officer took photographs of the 12 inch black ‘thundercock’ hanging out of the back of his quite obviously deceased self.  “What’s Karen going to think?”

The CSO pulled out her phone, snapped a photo, and quickly put it away again.

“I know him you know” she said to the police officer stood at the door.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“Yes” she answered smiling broadly, “ex-fiance, he cheated on me with his current wife.”


Photo courtesy of pixabay



Cradled and Cocooned – Room 101

He kicked out angrily, desperate to hurt her, wanting her to scream.

This morning I was looking for some inspiration to start doing a themed daily piece.  I was listening to the Eurhythmics album 1984 (The one for the film adaptation of the George Orwell Book) and it got me to thinking about doing a Room 101 kind of thing in 101 words and on a dark and twisted theme.

Not quite there yet I then took another look at Michelle’s prompts over at Her Writing Haven.  They are a great set of prompts and you should take a look at them, so I decided to use those as my daily prompts to be combined with my Room 101 idea.  I may also combine them with the WordPress daily prompt if possible.  Anyway, here is the first Room 101.  The “Cradled and cocooned” prompt comes from Michelle and the “Dancing” prompt from WordPress daily prompt..


He kicked out angrily, desperate to hurt her, wanting her to scream.

“Oh look he likes it” he heard her say, that sickeningly elated tone in her voice.   “He’s dancing.”

“He has your terrible taste in music” the man joked laughing loudly.

“Hey you, watch it” she replied happily.  He could feel her slowly rubbing her stomach.

As if having to listen to her life coursing through her body wasn’t enough, he now had to listen to the awful music she played incessantly.

He really could not wait to be born and one day be old enough to kill them both.

The army of dead babies

Not really sure where this came from. Not sure if the idea is cute or just creepy as hell.

If you cant sleep at all tonight

And you sense that something’s wrong

And the wind that whispers through the trees

Seems to sing a mothers song


Then close your eyes ignore the sound

Of gurlgles, howls and cries

Upon the wind as it blows through

The late October skies


Stay ‘neath your blanket warm and snug

Don’t open windows wide

For the army of dead babies

Will be marching by outside


Reminders of the choices made

The lives we took for granted

They seek once more a mothers kiss

On this night that’s most enchanted


From those we lost in pointless wars

To others cruelly taken

Not loved, not wanted, never held

And many more forsaken


With Ghoulish faces sunken eyes

A mother’s heart they seek

To take her back to realms of dark

To care for souls most meek


Into your homes they crawl inside

Mouths gaping and dead eyes

Foot of your bed they sit and wait

Soft gurgles tender cries


And should you wake and heed their call

Heart tender, cries to stem

Your soul they take and leave you dead

And drag you back with them


And from that day ‘til ages pass

And they again return to light

You tend the dead lost babies souls

That wander through the night


picture courtesy of pixabay