Blog Archives

Guess What Happened At Work Today?

26/4/2014

So this woman comes into my office to claim benefits for the first time. Claims she’s a redundant “hitperson”! Honestly!

Turns out I’ve a job for her – involving a cat somehow – but she throws a tantrum. “I have standards,” she announces. So I say, "No benefits for you, sweetheart." Off she strops.

In no time she’s back. “I claim religious discimination,” she announces. She’s a Quaker, a pacifist hitperson. Seriously. No can kill.

I mention Grace Kelly in “High Noon” but she replies Grace only killed baddies. Then she draws a gun out saying, “Like you.”

She gets her benefits.

The Third World War

26/4/2014

In the middle of my frustration at the way my laptop was operating, I was suddenly reminded how overly dependent I was on it. Earlier in the week, some research had shown that the average person writes fewer than 50 words per week by hand. I manage nothing like that.

It was a master-stroke by the Russians.

While the west was mobilising its nuclear forces, and its biological and chemical weapons, the grand Russian plan swung into action.

They simultaneously bought down all LinkedIn, Facebook, Twitter and every other social network, whereupon everyone in the West realised that without mobile phones and iPads, they had forgotten how to communicate. The US President had even forgotten how to issue battle orders.

It wasn’t really war as such, actually. And it ended when some nice Russians arrived – in peace – to repair everything.

Of course, we all had to learn to speak Russian.

The Flash Fiction Vampire

19/4/2014

The Flash-Fiction-Vampire sat hunched over a computer screen, working on his latest client’s website. Behind, a group crept noiselessly towards him, armed with stakes and hammers.

“We can’t see him in his screen, so he can’t see us,” whispered one. “Remember, aim for his heart at the stroke of midnight on Thursday.”

“I don’t like this,” whispered another.

“It’s for his own good.”

But they’d forgotten something: Flash-Fiction-Vampires’ reflections can’t be seen in mirrors, including computer screens. Suddenly, he swung round, leaped, and bit them, turning them all into Flash-Fiction-Vampires themselves.

Now they too were doomed to write stories every Friday.

Summary Justice

18/4/2014

"No!” Chelsea yelled. “Put me down! Let me go! Stop!”

She felt herself being hoisted into the air, and with no great care either.

“It isn’t fair, it’s not my fault! Why me?” she moaned. “I’m not even two years old yet – ”

She was cut off in mid-sentence.

It made no difference, because no-one could understand what Chelsea the Range Rover was saying as she was lowered into the crusher, her owner having repeatedly been caught speeding on the school run. Some observers even applauded.

It’s not fair on the car. It’s the owner who belongs in the crusher.

Wrong Turning To The Moon

13/4/2014

It was only as she looked out of the cockpit window that Rawgug realised her terrible error.

“@@$$%%%!!£%(*&**” she cried. “?^&&^&&^&”

Her co-pilot Malwog did as directed, adding, “˚¬^ø•¶!”

Realising they would now be stranded on the Moon instead of Earth for ever, Rawgug’s military training kicked in. First, they had to colonise the Moon by breeding, which meant some loving words for Malwog.

“&*&*$$$^^≥≥≥÷÷√√√∂ƒß†® ¨¥ ¥¥¨ø¥•¶∞¢#€ åß∂´ƒ˙¬^!!!”

Martian sex works quickly, and in no time there were forty-five of them. Step two required a Martian joke.

“)(%*¥√¨ˆ ÏÊÁˆˆÎÓÔ˜˚˚√ç¨∆!” said Rawgug, loudly.

Malwog died laughing, literally; colonisation was complete.

Patience Is A Virtue

11/4/2014

Source: Superstock

The fisherman cast his rod once more. Despite his patience, it had been a long day, and nothing had come along. After hours standing in knee-high water, he was getting tired and cold. He doubted if he could stand the all-nighter that beckoned, but pride made him continue.

The bathroom door remained locked, but not because he was stark naked. The real reason was that he was determined that no-one must ever know that only by pretending to fish with a toy rod in a filled bath could he dream up a Friday Flash Fiction story.

Then an idea came...

In A Rush

4/4/2014

Come on come on! Where’s all this traffic coming from! Why now? Why in the rush hour, why not in the middle of the night?

ROAD WORKS!! Why do they have road works in the rush hour? Repair the roads at night!

TRAFFIC LIGHTS!!! Change change change! Come on, change to green! At last.

F*****G TRAMS!!!!!!*

Just get out of the way, hurry up please!

Thank God, made it at last...

What now? NOW? You mean it? REALLY? I’ve only been here five minutes...

Wait a minute!!!

Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Noises off.)

“Congratulations, Mrs. Smith, you have a beautiful baby daughter...”

Russian Left Boot Day

1/4/2014

You’re probably aware that today is “Russian Left Boot Day”, a long-running celebration of a wartime episode when the Soviet central planning system went disastrously wrong.

During WW2, boots for Soviet soldiers were in such short supply that Stalin ordered one million pairs to be made immediately. Unfortunately, he wasn’t specific enough, and instead of one million pairs, two million left boots were made.

Everyone was too scared while he was alive, but since Stalin’s death, self-deprecating Russians have celebrated this day every year by wearing left shoes on both feet all day.

Watch out for iPhone “selfies” being posted...

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