20 Little Excerpts from the Humorous Side of My Blog
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It was a dull claustrophobic December day and flakes of grey-white snow were settling on the terrace behind King’s Antiquarian Booksellers. Maggie Swann, matriarch of Swann’s Rare Books, crossed it to enter an annex. Inside, in eerie silence, anonymous leather-bound volumes filled dusty bookcases. – A Merry Dance(1000 words) –
Deeply absorbed in my lunch at Olive’s, I heard my smartphone buzz with a message. ‘Please bring October figures to the Saudi meeting. Vernon.’
Damn! I’d forgotten it’d been rescheduled; I had just ten minutes! I ran outside to a nearby taxi rank, ominously vacant. – A Night on the Clown (200 words) –
Vulgarity is the poor man’s religion!” said Sheldrake, battling against the loud chatter and raucous laughter of the Crown and Anchor’s early evening trade.
“Who said that?”
“No he didn’t!”
Sheldrake banged the table. “Well he should’ve done!” – Chivvers’ Foibles (200 words) –
After the office I’d address my lascivious thoughts of the women there. I had my little ‘collection’ – hair shirts, a lightweight five-tailed ‘discipline’, and others. Dissatisfied with Hail Mary’s and the like, I’d mop up the blood with an old towel. Perhaps I was a little…odd? – Cilice Sod (200 words) –
‘Parker’, that’s what they calls me, on account of I’m a nosy sod, know what I mean. Anyways, I’m a pot-man at the Universe club and the guvnor tells me to ‘keep an eye out for anything untoward’, know what I mean? – Cocksure (200 words) –
“Police state, that’s what this bloody place is becoming!” Arthur complained, looking up at the mandible poking incongruously from beneath a peaked cap.
“World domination’s never actually been my bag dear boy,” said Charles, striding across his study in a purple dressing gown and paisley cravat. “And there’s my bad back and dicky heart to think of, you know.” – Double Trouble (200 words) –
I took a short cut through the adjoining park, passing along a walkway, bounded by burgeoning shrubs, to a fountain, sparkling amongst pink rosebushes. A statue of Pan stood nearby.
I enjoyed the gentle sound of water. Then, something black loomed, I looked up and saw two nuns. Their countenances were grim and masculine. –Get in the Habit! (500 words) –
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation.” A lady in a long red dress stood at our table. “Only, my husband and I have a disagreement.” She gestured to a corner of the crowded restaurant, to a man with coiffured white hair. “And we’d like you to decide who’s right.” – Hopes and Arrows (200 words) – –
Through Lincs’ fair wolds, did roam at large the evil Sprogge, oh loathsome beast! Half plant, half man, half monstrous thing on teeny tods did feast.
Past Tetford Church the Sprogge did lurch,
its eyes did mulder and burn.
It munched upon a teeny tod
then tavern-wards did journ. – – Legend of the Sprogge (poem) –
Hating the idea, I am nevertheless obliged to cooperate with Mellors’ latest ‘prank’, another outrageous practical joke for his YouTube channel.
I hide behind a tree with my video camera focused on him. He sits, smirking, on a camping stool at the side of a path. In front of him lies Frank, especially selected on account of his prosthetic leg. – Legless in the Park(200 words)
‘Pulpit John’ was the title of a colourful biography, published by St. Patrick’s Church, about Father John McCormick. Garlic on his breath now wafted through the confessional screen there.
“Wigan’s the place for podiums!” said Sue, waving her baton at an imaginary orchestra.
“What about Amazon?” her sister Shirley replied.
“I want to go to the podium shop!” The baton flew across the room hitting the cat, Dr. Evil, on the head. – Peer’s of Wigan (200 words)
The audience hushed and the curtain opened. A woman sat at a table drinking Blossom Hill chardonnay and reading a letter. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, standing up and bursting into tears.
A door opened and a teenage girl dressed in torn jeans entered. “Mum, I need twenty quid!” – Play with Emotions (200 words)
Goddamit! The president recalled the previous evening when he and the First Lady had hunkered after a chicken curry. An aide had been sent out for a native Indian dish, returning with something aromatic and fiery. Very fiery.
“OK, …I need the rest room…” – Rest Room (200 words)
In the bar were about a dozen people seated on wooden benches at old oak tables – the furniture looked like it had been there since the pub was built. At the back of the room a small fire burned in a large fireplace, surrounded by bottles, horse brasses, unrecognizable farm implements and other dust-covered relics of the rural past. – The Black Swan (590 words)
From a speck of jelly-like substance, the organism had doubled its size every hour. Now just twelve hours later, it was pushing up the laboratory ceiling, a huge white blob of viscous cellular material. – The Blob from Outer Space(200 words)
Holmes took out a magnifying glass and looked carefully at the marks.
“One and five eights between the studs Watson. Don’t you see – the Bridlington quartz mine!”
She looked at herself in the mirror. Long brown hair, good skin. Not much wrong there. Maybe it was her breath? She cupped her hand over her mouth and nose, inhaling the odour of garlic – but who didn’t like garlic?! – The Neighbour (200 words)
She thought of her little village, Saltby St. Mary’s, recalling balmy summer evenings at the cricket pitch, sipping champagne by the walls of the ancient church, only the occasional ‘thwack’ of willow on leather breaking the peaceful silence. – The Saltby St. Mary’s Murders (200 words)