My Army

 

 The Red Indians crouched in the shadowy canyon, tomahawks at the ready. A vulture circled overhead.
The sound of hooves. A pale-skin on horseback.
“Damn,” cursed an Indian.
“What?!” asked the other.
“Well, he’s got RinTinTin with him,” the first complained, “Screw it.”
And both went off to the pub.

Crop Circle

 

The farmer scowled, casting his eyes around that morning as he exited the house. Another damn crop circle.
Grudgingly he climbed up the hill to see what it looked like. His eyes narrowed as he read the note that stretched across a couple of his wheath-fields.
 

“Mum’s cheating on you.”
 

Recipe

 

Aperitif: marriage, on the rocks

Ingredients

1 husband (aloof)
1 wife (bored)
1 co-worker (horny)

optional: 1-2 children

Separate husband and wife. Chill.
Knead wife and co-worker until affair becomes messy.

Introduce husband.
Mixture should bleed.

Add children to heighten misery.
 

Capricorns

 

 “Let’s go to New York!” she said excitedly in the gloomy gloaming, that night under Ursa Major’s spangled diagonal.
“We’ll be new people, we’ll run away. I’ll pay for everything...”
He smiled and seemed to think about it then shook his head.
Damn Capricorns and their infernal sense of duty.

Cadbury

 

I was eating a Cadbury on a bus.
A thin and batty homeless guy was eying me, hungrily.
He sat up suddenly and went “nggh nggh”  unintelligibly at me and pointed at the chocolate.
“Oh, do you want some?” I asked politely.
It turned out he just wanted the wrapper.

Gargoyles

 

 “So” said a cathedral gargoyle to his neighbouring friend, fresh from the labs.
“What’s your favourite thing about being a gargoyle?”
 “Certainly not restoration.” The other replied bitterly, nursing his fresh wounds. Then he added, mischievously “But there’s some fun to be had showering unsuspecting tourists on a rainy day…”

Japanese Boy

 

“Mister can you tell me where my love has gone? He’s a Japanese boy,” I asked.
The train-station master looked at me rather curiously then asked,
“Isn’t that a bit politically incorrect?”
I nodded sadly. He was right, of course. But I’d never thought to ask his name, you see.
 

The Postie

The Poet

 

Poets I’d met in my life had either been utter misery-guts, coating everything in gloominess – or condescending egotists. By great misfortune, he happened to be both. And worst still, he had a nasty temper and picked fights constantly. But I DID love the way he insulted everyone in iambic pentameter.

I am 16 going on 17

 

Someone knocked. I was hesitant, as it was 2am. I got up, went to my window and peered through my curtains. There below, looking sheepish in the street-light, was Rolfe from The Sound of Music.
Well I can’t say I was surprised. All my erotic dreams started the same way.
 

Space Traffic

 

"You're late!" she cried, running across the spaceport waiting-room floor.
"Traffic round Betelgeuse" I sighed, undoing my helmet.
Then she made a little pout and I felt the frustration of my drive simply dissolve. It was worth crossing the bloody galaxy during rush-hour – if just to see her pretty face.
 

Star

 

"Where do we come from?" he asked.
He asked her this question every single night. He’d climb the staircase up to his observatory and spy on her through his long brass telescope as she bathes in the new moon.
And then she’d laugh - as she always did – the star.

My Spaceboy love

 

It was with rancour that she climbed up the ladder.
“So you’re leaving after all?” she asked, feigning nonchalance.
“You know it,” he said with pretended indifference.
“Well then,” she said.
“’Twas good while it lasted,” he said, turning his rocket on.

Because spaceboys are very bad at expressing themselves.
 

Boa

 

"Little odd for a Christmas present, a boa," the petshop keeper said as he heaved the large snake-containing box over the counter.

"It's for my wife," the man explained, somewhat nervously, "She wanted a feathered one. But I'm allergic to feathers so I thought this would do just as well."

Being a dog

 

Being a dog sucks so badly. The salivating, the dependency - the constant absurd desire to go for walks. I sure preferred it back when I was a couch-potato. Next time I find a magic lamp, I have to remember to ask for something more orthodox. Like a million dog biscuits.