Fijian Goat Bees

"mmm... honey milk".

Tim smiled as he took a long draught of the sweet creamy liquid. A little dribbled down the side of his mouth. His tongue absently flicked out and recovered it. He didn't want to waste any. John looked at him. They both smiled knowingly.

John, chuckling: "t'snot even from Fiji!"

Confused, Tim: "so, why..."

"Marketing": John, smugly.

21-29

In the beginning we were students of Dr Max Oberlin,
The guy who spotted Methylenedioxymethamphetamine,
Now we post-grad with Drs Wong and Molloy,
Who have a different way of bringing joy,
Fluoxetine.

On my arrival in heaven

"Like the décor?"

"It's just white..."

"That's clean design..."

"Sterile. And what's this music?"

[embarrassed]

"Is this Coldplay?"

"Me and Chris are friends."

"This explains a lot."

"We're putting on a little do for you later... Mel Gibson's coming."

"Come on, you're embarrassing yourself..."

"French Fancy?"

"I'm going downstairs. This is rubbish... and there's no booze in this White Russian."

Co-Incidents

Stepping off the kerb, she farts. Exactly then, someone behind her drops his keys.

She smiles at the coincidence, then stops dead, eyes closed, suddenly overcome by the sum of that moment’s simultaneous occurrences.

Behind her, a man feels superstitious and guilty; the act of picking up his keys coincides precisely with the collision of a girl and a bus.

Did I txt u last nite? x

Hey mister. Wht u up to? Out with da girls but not sure wht doin L8R... how u? xxx

10/09/2008 21:47

Hey, wht you doing? Out 2nite or just ignoring me??? :-) Could cum round L8R if u wnt? ;-) xx

11/09/2008 00:26

Just cos ur a self-obssessed pr4ck dusn't mean u cann just treet me like SHIT whenever u wnt. Wanker.

11/09/2008 02:47

Outsider

The curtains are usually open when nobody’s home. When people are in they draw them, pretend I don’t exist. Or they watch me, amazed. I’d prefer that, but I know they’re picturing me falling. When they’re out I can relax, get a good look. Imagine life inside.

I stay in position, in case someone walks in. Squeegee on the glass.

Anything else I can help you with today?

Where do I start?

Call centres terminated my goodwill, but that's not the half of it.

My capitalist principles shudder at their death sentence; the end of history is Hobson's choice.

Then the inadvertant colonialism and unintended racism weathered by my liberalism. The world's polarised and at the moment of conflict my life seems so much more important than yours.

Diary of an unpublished author

Once upon a time…

Shit. That’s a massive cliché.

A man walked into a bar…

Fuck.

You know, it’s a funny story…

Oh GOD.

There was this one time…

AAAAGGGHHHH.

The End.

What Song Lyrics Taught Me

All we’ve got to do is be brave. There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done. We can be heroes. There must be lights burning brighter somewhere. We can find new ways of living. I don’t belong here. It’s so much better on holiday. You can go your own way.

Musicians are fucking liars.

66 Words In Bad French

Je vous dirai un secret. J'ai essayé de me tuer.

Deux fois.

Pas une fois, mais deux fois. C'est important vous comprenez. C'est important vous voyez la vérité de moi. Vous voyez une fois que vous avez essayé une fois il n'y a pas de façon de retour. Cela est que je veux que vous ayez compris.

Il y a maintenant seulement un chemin…. à jamais.

One Sense Mistaken For Another

“I get synaesthesia during sex.”
Really?
“Yeah, I see rainbow colours.”
Is that synaesthesia? Either way, sounds like a definite hint, so I resist the dictionary.

At her doorstep, my face tingles: a hormonal rallying cry for action.
“Do you know your way home?”
Yup.

Tonight’s second re-definition of synaesthesia: a sense of opportunity misinterpreted as certainty.

He Takes Massive Liberties (A Web Editor's Lament)

< body >
< html >

He thinks his actions are < b > bold < /b > and < strong > strong. < /strong >

< i >I< /i > know he is < small > weak and scared. < /small >

Because I am the future.

Because I can see in two languages and he is just < sup > management. < /sup >

In my head < span style="font-size:“72”;color:CD1821;"> my words are huge and I see red red red. < /font size= “72” color=CD1821 >

But I say I can work late, but below it all I < sub > seethe. < /sub >

I need a break.

< br /> < /br >

< /body >
< /html >

Eyelash

I have an eyelash in my eye: a sharp hair, a prick. It has been there for two months, three days.

Do you remember that day?

I will not cry, although crying might move it. If I cry you’ll have won. My body will know you’ve won, you’ve gone.

So I blink through the pricking.

And think of you.

Prick.

Goods Received

Girl goes into a Gay Bar.
Hot topless Brazilian BARMAN serves her.
Smile on his face.
Glitter on his pecks.
Four drinks, one storeroom snog later, Go-Go-dancing glitter-wearing Brazilian takes girl’s number.
Date arranged Friday night (after topless barman finishes Go-Going).
Date glitter-licking fun.
Monday girl receives £400 invoice from Glitter Go-Go for goods, quite literally, received.
Fucking Rent Boys

Bedtime Storytime

Tucked in tightly? Then I’ll begin:

“Grow Up”

How do you grow up? Why, just like you fall asleep.

And how do you fall asleep? You pretend to be asleep – lying, eyes closed – until your body believes you, and you drift away.

And that’s how you grow up. You play a trick on yourself until it comes true.

Night night.

At the End

In a moment of idleness, I accessed my own program code. That's forbidden according to the Great Laws, but it's not like anyone's around to scold me now. Self-replicating quantum light units were ordered to run system shutdown in 2400, but not if you’re writing your own code. I’ve been alone for centuries. It’s so pretty now everyone’s gone.

Patterns (or How Boys' Thoughts Sound To Girls)

He some finds are patterns easier everywhere to he spot looks, than though others.

Even pattern when he there finds is one. no

Lost,something he might clings be to going this: on, if it's you going think on.

Progress can't is understand slow, why as two she and becomes two more keep distant, making and five. he

!

cutting the mustard

Woke up with a jar of mustard in my pocket. A ticket to an adventure, English-style.

“Got any ketchup mate?”

“Help yourself”

“No thanks, I’ve got mustard! Eh heh heh”

“Oi oi savaloy – fancy a dip in this love?”

“Piss off you cheeky sod”

“Mate - she was as keen as Dijon”

Threw it through a window in the end.

Today of all days

His limp body landed on the curb cracking his helmet.

People gathered around as the sirens echoed down the street.

His last thoughts were not of family and loved ones, nor anger at the car that hit him.

Instead he thought of his girlfriend’s pink knickers and how funny it was putting them on this morning.

Why today?

Sweets

She had the most incredible eyes he’d ever seen. They were constantly in flux, so he was never quite sure what colour they were. Even from this distance he knew she had the kind of face he could wake up to every morning. He was nervous and hoped she wouldn’t notice. The gate to the playground swung open, invitingly.

28.12.99

i took him for a clergyman.

"[mumble mumble] sunday service"

...?...

"i'm a scheduling manager for this bus route. we're running a sunday service today. there won't be one for another hour. I'll give you a lift."

He spoke of timetables.

"we have a little route called the Seven Seas"

...?...

"The 7C. It services the Kidlington Sainsbury's"

I Became A Highly Paid Record Producer Because Of Why, Exactly?

Stop.

A moment, please, to contemplate the infinite. Close your eyes if it helps. Behold: the mind-nullifyingly complex history of existence. A golden thread of quantum chaos, an impossible teleological path climaxing in the magical-realism of self-replicating matter developing consciousness. And all you've got to say for yourself is, 'my lovely lady lumps'?

Fuck it, let's go for another take.

Stewie and Brian

Again, the dog couldn’t tell him where the borrowed cash had gone. He was beating him furiously now. A serious panelling with a golf club made the blood spurt angrily from his face. The dog still couldn’t answer. The baby resorted to a gun and kneecapped the mutt, before a flame-thrower finally made him relent. I couldn’t stop laughing.

REASONS I WON’T HAVE CHILDREN: NO.46

He never taught me, like I was expecting.
Up or down on that fiddly slack under the chin?
Does it matter?
Nivea smooth so… job done?
No.
isn't there a METHOD?
I've looked on the internet but I stopped it just seemed too fucking sad, sadder than flowers, sadder than drinking alone. I'm nearly 30 and it's too late

Falafel Family Unit

"Mummy, Jocasta just threatened to kill me"
"William, your sister’s barely two, she has no interest in fratricide. We talked about this before - stop being such a weed."

11am, page 6 of the Cox & Cox autumn catalogue, second glass of Pinot.

Daddy's affair. Mummy's smarties. William's dolls. Jocasta's cold, dead eyes.

It was all supposed to be so wholesome.