Mr Sourside

Here’s the story of pudding emotions, jealousy, and trapped cake. ‘Mate guarding’ is ancient and somewhat antiquated solution to protecting one’s fondest love… from infidelity. After copulation, the male would prevent the partner from wandering off for additional mating, said to be a common problem that resulted in jealousy, the feeling of being inadequate and …

Stress-Head

Here’s the story of simmering dandies, the horrors of pressure, and flaming monkeys. The incessant fury of the game of brain train variety is nowhere near the levels of fun as the implication of the not-so-fun rhyme: ‘brain train’. The inherent assumption here is that the human brain is incapable of reaching its zenith without …

After You’re Gone… You’re Stuffed

Here’s the story of Moon Sudoku, mortality, and milk float shenanigans. Death may appear to be the end but there is the distinct possibility one’s mortician placed the toe tag on the toe too early, or indeed not early enough, or that one’s mortician simply wants others to believe one is dead but in fact …

Smelling Like a Finely Aged Cheese

Here’s the story of balaclava entrepreneurs, aging, and angry badgers. They say age is just a number but this is not true: it is two. Even when you are 01-years-old. Even then, it’s more of a word, and even then, it is more of an arbitrary way of measuring the passage of time, which itself …

Friendless

Here’s the story of angry social bees, loneliness, and chimp diamonds. Randy Newman once professed that we all have a friend in him, even when the road ahead appears rough, although unless one’s friend is some kind of road expert one hardly sees how such a friendship could be conducive to positive road repair. Friends …

If the World Runs Out of Lovers… Oh, Bugger

Here’s the story of a misplaced credenza, the dating game, and lipstick madness. The mother of all Daddy Long Legs. Ironically. The sweat dripped from the forehead like a naughty schoolboy caught smoking, the breathless palpitations as a carnival in a bathroom, the dizzying battle royale against a death beast from the gates of Lucifer’s …

Why Stevie Wonder was Wrong

Here’s the story of evil lettuce, Friday the **th, and snaky woohoo. November, 1896. Curious young men desperate to court the fairest maidens of all believed that placing a snake’s tongue upon the palm of the hand, beneath the inevitable glove, will result in any girl losing her inhibitions, regardless of previous indifference, to leap …

Why I Could Not Hair Less

Here’s the story of sweaty shoes, the ‘curse’ of confidence, and naked in Iceland. They say butterflies in the stomach are a product of straying too far from one’s comfort zone, ‘they’ negating the fact that comfort zones exist to provide comfort, which of itself is not a bad thing, and that stomachs are no …

How I Learnt to Stop Worrying and Love the Dog

Here’s the story of tattered shoes, the truth of hounds, and spoon clippings. They say dogs are a man’s best friend, women presumably content with parrots. Dogs were domesticated several thousand years ago when a few insanely stupid individuals thought wolves would make for the ideal pet. This is as similarly a brilliant idea as …

A Guide to Shy Birthday Delight

Here’s the story of a duckling meeting a chimp, shy celebration, and a nifty goatee. A fumble of enthusiasm spills out with as much gusto as the mumble of greetings from the mouth of a bus driver too early in the morn. One’s attempt to smile is as the robot asked to surmise love in …