Blog Posts

Flyover Frank

12/4/2024

With money no object, Frank heard there was to be a total eclipse of the sun in Nova Scotia. After all, Carly had written a song about him (he kept telling everyone), and he had a reputation to live up to. It rained all day.

No worries. He could watch the Aurora Borealis while up there, but there was no solar activity. Nothing.

Never mind, Frank thought, he could head for the Masters instead, then the Monaco Grand Prix. Just make sure to fly clear of Ukraine, Yemen or Gaza, and well over any poor people in the Third World.

The Manipulator

1/4/2024

The physiotherapist flexed her muscles.

“You’ve allowed your body to get totally out of shape, Mr Smith. This will hurt, I’m afraid.”

The patient nodded apprehensively. “Do what you must.”

She began working gently on his arms and legs, but soon, as she moved on to apply vigorous power to his torso, he began to yell with pain.

An hour later, it was over. Smith’s head and rear were now reversed, although his mouth remained in the latter as it protruded from his shirt collar.

“That’s more like it, Mr Smith,” the physiotherapist said. “You’re like a proper politician again.”

Job Interview

1/3/2024

The interview panel members look stern. Facing them is the latest job candidate.

They start to ask the usual questions.

“You have children, Mr Smith?”

“Some. Not sure how many.”

“You use prostitutes?”

“Naturally.”

“Have you ever swindled anyone out of everything they possess?”

He chuckles. “Of course!”

“Do you pay taxes?”

“No. I’m no fool.”

“Mr Smith, have you ever killed anyone?”

“Not personally, but I’ve arranged it occasionally.”

The panellists nod their heads approvingly. “Mr Smith, we have several vacancies to which you seem ideally suited: heads of state in the US, the UK, Russia, China, India, Brazil…”

Not Rocket Science

9/2/2024

Somewhere in Dayton, Ohio, a telephone rings.

A receptionist answers, “USAF National Museum, how can I help?”

“I’m phoning from Bellevue. I wondered... would your museum be interested in a nuclear missile that I have in my garage?”

“Sorry, did you say ‘a nuclear missile’?”

“It’s OK, it’s inert. I only really collect live ones.”

The Museum has a simple protocol for such moments. Lights flash everywhere and panic ensues. But our receptionist remains calm.

“Em… sir… where did you obtain this missile?”

“From my friend Don. Lives near Cincinnati. He didn’t want it, though. He only collects Russian ones.”

Weather Warning

2/2/2024

Candlemas is on the 2nd February each year.

“Great weather,” the old man says to me in the café.

I assume he’s being sarcastic – the rain’s lashing down outside. But no, he means it.

“It’s 2nd February, Candlemas,” he says. “If Candlemas brings cloud and rain, winter won’t come again. It’s an old saying.”

I tell him that I don’t believe in old sayings.

Next day, the weather’s even worse. When I visit the café again for my morning espresso, the old man’s there again.

“What happened to your Candlemas theory?” I ask him.

“I told you,” he insists, “this is the start of a typically bad summer.”

A Traditional Scottish Wake

12/1/2024

On the day before the funeral, the old man’s coffin to the family home in accordance with ancient Scottish tradition. There, as the deceased lay on the dining room table, the family paid their respects by drinking his whisky and squabbling over how their inheritances should be spent.

Eventually, they all left and locked the door behind them.

Then it was the old man’s turn.

Rising from the coffin, he poured himself a generous measure of his beloved MacAllan, then left the drained glass on its side.

They think they’re rid of me, he chuckled, but the fun’s just beginning…

Circling Crows

5/1/2024

Crows circle above me; a couple have landed to inspect me more closely. Their time may yet come.

Lying here at the side of the road, I’m rotting from the inside; I’m helpless to prevent it. I’m know what’s happening, but two lead bullets inside my brain ended my ability to communicate.

I can only wait to be found.

No one has done so yet; it’s already been 36 hours.

The police will catch the killer.

Until then, I just become more toxic.

Wait, there are flashing blue lights in the distance. The police are here after all. Sorry, crows.

New Year Resolution

5/1/2024

The cleaning lady tapped the table impatiently. “Come on, I’ve got work to do, so have you.”

The old man sat there, looking stumped. The sheet of paper before him lay blank.

“Come on,” she repeated, “write down something.”

Grumbling, the old man picked up his pencil and scribbled some words.

“Let’s hear them, then!”

The old man read slowly.

“One: Don’t overfeed the animals. They’re not pets.

“Two: Buy a new coat.

“Three: Deal with the Christmas presents before Christmas Eve.”

The cleaning lady shook her head.

“Not again, Santa. You make those same resolutions every year. You’re hopeless…”

How Santa Adapted to Climate Change

24/12/2023

Santa’s nine reindeer were an unreliable, grumbling bunch, generally exaccerbating Santa’s hypertension. Worse still, because they were an odd number, they only ever pulled the sleigh in circles.

Then, following COP28, Santa realised that climate change required a re-think of sleigh power – reindeer methane emissions were unacceptably high. It was time for renewable energy: windmills on the sleigh. Deer days were numbered.

“But we’ll be redundant!” Rudolph wailed. “How will we live?? Who’ll look after the poor starving children who depend on us for presents?”

Santa had the answer. On Christmas Day, the world’s poorest children were fed venison stew.

I Miss You

12/9/2023

Just a couple of evenings ago, we sat together in the window sharing a bottle of wine. Now, your chair is empty. For some, an earthquake, flood, or enemy fire deprives the departed and their loved ones of a last chance to say goodbye. Perhaps an aeroplane or traffic accident.

How I wish yours had even been like that.

You didn’t know him. It was a random attack from behind by a madman. All I can hope is that you didn’t suffer, my love, but I can’t even be sure of that.

All I know is that I miss you.

Gary's New Book

19/6/2023

I typeset books for other authors. Today, my friend Gary texts asking if I’ll fix his new manuscript. I’ve done his before; they’re a nightmare.

“How much would you charge, Chuck?” He always calls me ‘Chuck’ for some reason. “It’s a mystery thriller.”

“Sorry, can you give me more info?” I say.

“80k words starting…”

He’s a mathematician, I’m not; it’s gobbledegook. I ask if it’s all like this.

“Naturally,” Gary says, “that’s the mystery. Impressed?”

“Thrilled,” I say, absently.

“There you go, then, a mystery thriller.”

I quote him £1.00 per word, £80,000. Gary says he’ll shop around, thanks.

Darkness at the Break of Noon

19/5/2023

Disturbingly, this is based on a real case.

Mummy asked me to collect you from school at lunchtime for your dentist appointment. She didn’t tell you about it? It’s all right, you don’t know me, but I live nearby and I’ll look after you until Mummy comes. Make yourself comfortable in the back of the car and fasten your seatbelt. Happy? We’re off.

OK, so this is my house. Your house isn’t very far away, you’re quite safe. Here’s a cheese sandwich and a drink. It tastes funny? It’s OK, drink up.

You thought I was a woman? Yes, I was wearing my wig then, but it’s OK…

Morals

12/5/2023

Once upon a time there were morals.

Morals were conventions where people tried to be honest, treat one other nicely, and respect diverse opinions. When your neighbour needed assistance, you tried to help.

Then everything changed. People were told that if your neighbour was down, it was a sign of strength to stamp on their throat and finish them off. The worst were businessmen and politicians, but some claimed to be “religious”. You called those with whom you disagreed “liars spreading fake news.” Some became rich; most became poorer.

Morals ended. Nowadays you can’t even find the word in dictionaries.

Ghost Writer

5/5/2023

Once, I had a “writing buddy” – she and I traded advice about books we were writing. No subject was off limits, and I valued her advice. Perhaps you know her: she’s a well-known writer of ghost stories.

Then one day it ended. Out of nowhere, she announced that she wouldn’t be contacting me again. I’ve no idea why, she never said, and these days you can’t ask too persistently, for fear of being accused of harassment.

So she and I became mere ghosts to each other. The other day, I think I caught a glimpse of her shadow, online. Maybe.

Ghost Trams

28/4/2023

Occasionally, a Ghost Tram could be seen running through the Edinburgh streets. The tram's passengers gazed vacantly from the carriage windows, seemingly unaware of the world outside. For the most part, the passengers seemed to be alone.

Although these Ghost Trams stopped at every station, no one ever seemed to get on or off; everyone waiting took the next tram instead.

One day, as I was standing on a platform, a ticket inspector explained the mystery.

“Ghost Trams take the souls of the departed to the terminus,” he explained. “You only make one journey.”

Then he added, “Here’s your ticket.”

David and Goliath – the Rematch!

21/4/2023

(Image: Banks mural, Ukrainian postcard)

Vladimir Goliathyevich Putin squinted down at the tiny figure facing him just five metres away across the judo mat. He’d been waiting for this opportunity for well over 2,000 years.

“Revenge at last, Davidenko. You’re a cheat,” he roared.

“I won fair and square last time. You’re just a sore loser.”

“Nonsense, you used tactical battlefield missiles. Wasn’t in the rules.”

Davidenko shrugged. “If you like. OK, no missiles this time. I’ll win anyway.”

“We’ll see, let’s fight!” said the giant bully, grabbing the smaller man’s judogi. Within seconds, he was flat on his back, exactly as the previous time.

Light Candles and Carry On

10/3/2023

Sheltering in the hoped-for safety of the subway, the young woman and her sister huddled together as sirens sounded and bombs exploded in the distance. There was little point in worrying about a direct hit; what would be would be. Instead, they worked on their laptops, putting such dark thoughts away. Better to concentrate on their latest contract, to earn some money, and to pay taxes with pride towards the war effort.

Suddenly, the lights went out. Yet another strike had knocked out the local power station. As usual, everyone simply lit candles and carried on. That way lay victory.

Vermin

10/3/2023

Despite the best efforts of coastguards, thousands of desperate migrants arrived across the English Channel on the shores of South-East England. Far from being sympathetic, the Conservative UK Government was prepared to turn them back, send them to Rwanda, and genrally treat them like sub-humans. All the time, egged on ny the right-wing red-top press.

The rats kept arriving. Each morning, thousands could be found in the coastline’s towns and villages. Overrun, the authorities took the drastic step of rounding them up, gassing them, then dumping the remains out at sea.

Then, as in most countries, loads of refugees began arriving, fleeing from warzones, drought-stricken areas and persecution. They kept coming. Each morning, more could be found on the coastline.

“Ah,” the authorities said. “We know what to do. It worked last time.”

There were protests. “But these… are people!”

The protesters’ names were taken. They, too, were last seen leaving on the refugee boats.

Harry and Me

11/11/2022

Harry died at the Somme on the 1st July, 1916. I wasn’t with him; I was too young.

A fine footballer, his entire team volunteered together. Harry didn’t return. The team lost out on the championship as a result.

Harry also died in the Battle of Britain. I was too young then as well.

I wasn’t with Harry when he died in the Falklands, Northern Ireland and Afghanistan. I wasn’t too young this time.

Harry did my dirty work. Our democratically elected politicians asked Harry to risk his life so that I didn’t have to.

It’s just a pity that…

Encounter With a Spider

16/9/2022

My wife discovered a spider in the bathroom today. We are arachnophiles, and my wife is fluent in Spider, so a conversation ensued.

“Hello, spider,” she said. The spider grunted.

My wife cut to the chase. “You eat aphids on my houseplants. Why don’t you eat up the clothes moths as well? My woolly hat is full of holes.”

“Too hairy.” A spider of few words.

My wife was incensed. “You’ll eat any moth you’re given.”

“I don’t like your attitude,” said the spider.

“It wasn’t your hat it chewed,” my wife said, tossing the spider out of the window..

Ariadne

2/9/2022

Each Friday, Ariadne flitted elegantly from bar to bar, nursing mojitos until some man took the bait.

Dave bought her champagne that night. He had one thing on his mind only, she on something faintly similar: predictably, they ended up in bed. He couldn’t resist her, she simply needed him.

Things began as you’d imagine, but changed when he entered her. Immediately, he found himself trapped, consumed by her, until she had devoured him totally. Dave’s screams went unheard.

For the next few days she stayed indoors to conceal her swollen belly, but by Friday, it was time for more.

Funeral for a Friend

19/8/2022

Jim sighed.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to say farewell to our friend..."

The small group of family and friends present chuckled: they knew that 'the departing friend' could be difficult. Jim's teenage son, who could hardly be called a mourner, was curious to see if excrement could burn effectively.

"...dust to dust, ashes to ashes, in sure and certain hope..."

Nobody actually wanted a resurrection. Instead, they celebrated as the flames consumed Jim's manuscript, consigning his dreadful first novel to the past for ever. As the pages slowly became charred flakes of history, everyone danced for joy.

Einstein's Breakfast-Time Thoughts

9/8/2022

Einstein closed his eyes and thought: he worked best on a full breakfast.

Suddenly, he understood! Newton insisted that everything must have an equal and opposite reaction. There must therefore be an inverse relativity, where if (e=mc2 divided by k1) and (-e=mc2 divided by k2), 0≤k1≤1, 0≤k2≤1 and k1+k2=1. This would allow selective time travel, so all cancers, say, could be treated by rolling back to their beginnings.

Now… how to explain that to lesser beings?

He began in the usual way: he climbed off his owner’s lap and onto the keyboard.

In the Fields

5/8/2022

I recall our holidays together, not so many years ago.

Wandering through the fields, I pointed out barley, maize, sunflowers, maize and, especially, wheat. We both agreed that our flag looked just like a cloudless blue sky above never-ending wheat fields. We saw wild flowers, cornflowers and dandelions – more blue and yellow – and there were poppies everywhere. You loved those red poppy patches then; you wouldn’t like them any more.

I’d visit, but I don’t know where to find you in those same fields now. Perhaps I never will.

What parent wouldn’t give their life in exchange for their son’s?

The Verandah Incident

22/7/2022

They sat on the verandah in the baking sun, hats pulled down over their eyes.

‘Sure is hot,’ Jim said.

‘I’m trying to ignore it,’ Mike said. ‘Pretend it’s not hot.’

‘But sure is hot.’

‘Don’t keep saying that.’

‘What? Sure is hot?’

‘Yes. Be quiet.’

‘But sure is hot. What else is there to say?’

‘Nothing.’

‘But sure is hot.’

‘I’m warning you. My patience is wearing thin.’

‘See – that’s cos it sure is hot.’

‘Quiet.’

‘Sure is – ’

Just then, Mike drew a gun and shot Jim dead. As the blood trickled past his feet, he felt cooler already.

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