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Here’s the story of a literal edible sheep dog, honesty and a buttock. Time was the code of chivalry allowed two young be-duelled dandies to scrap to the death in all their pompous finery for the hand of a fair young maiden, disgraceful in her wanton ways yet rather adept at blocking people who challenged …

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The Insatiable Age of the Instagrammarian

Here’s the story of dragon sneezes, self-preservation, and the inaccurate strut. Lacking the inherent benefits of hands, dolphins screech with glee or terror, their inability to speak also a deficiency yet more than matched by their insatiable appetite for human flesh, all upon the sight of the infamous dot. Marked as a child of daemonic …

My Stupid Valentine

Here’s the story of wheezing hippies, a mélange of sticky love, and hot pant Narnia. Saint Valentine was the patron saint of pudding. And epilepsy. And, often, epileptic pudding. He was also the patron saint of beekeepers, plague and ‘against’ fainting, which one suspects is preferable to being ‘pro’ fainting. One beekeeper inflicted with all …

The Despicable Harmony of Universal Melodies

Here’s the story of buttery egotism, the cosmic dance, and Doug. The tribulations of cosmic dogoodery were cast asunder from the might of the origin of all, a vast white space to which many have imprinted their own origin story, from God to chemicals to that sentient gorilla named Doug whose sneeze catapulted all life …

Why It’s Best to Always Look Back in Anger

Here’s the story of lusty M&M’s, rage, and Dr Miles’ fantabulous adventure. Tempestuous fury aside, the camouflage of invisibility a superpower not entirely super and more infuriating watching on with impatience as one’s black visage of fate vanishes into the bus stop of eternity. Anger rises as the geyser from the chair erupting with the …

The Hypothetical Date Hypothesis

Here’s the story of straightener burns, hypothetical dating, and penis shopping. The gams that never quit were never quite enough for the ramshackle philosophies of the deranged balloon salesman, peering beyond the glass of hope in the bar of dive misgivings. How ‘legs’ became ‘gams’ and gained never mind lost the ability to start and …

The Bore Identity

Here’s the story of the attack of snake toast, boredom, and cosmic khazis. Aghast with tempestuous angst as the darling baby of Christmas left upon the wrong doorstep finding before her eyes nary a sight of the supposed nuns but a cult of Satan worshippers barely footsteps from their Pokémon coma. Be gone, foulest of …

A Pleasurable Slice of Festooned Clownery

Here’s the story of Mel Gibson, lockdown joy, and a 1356 syrup and magic show. The recalcitrant fellow of unsoulful lethargy wandered with fluffy derring-do as the cloud, floating on high o’er the hallowed halls where all at once, no crowd to be found. Such freedoms of solitude belie the dank musings of the human …

The Outrageous Kiss of 2020’s Sweet Behind

Here's the story of severe weight gain, a wonderful 2020 and a vengeful farmer's ex-wife. The natter of the teeth broken by the bombastic booms of the fireworks, the human race gathered in the dark, effervescent cold to wait for a new year to begin. Tick, tock, the clock stumbles over the midnight line as …

How the Lonely Was Won

Here’s the story of lily pad pummelling, delicious loneliness, and appalling puns. The abandoned fool drifting as the lily pad in the murky swamp of tattered dreams and ever more ragged old haggard trolleys dumped with gay abandon. This the unwanted jester, the festering lily pad. Helpless in goal as the last option in physical …