Saturday 2nd January 2021
Here we are at Week 305.
Before I start you will see the date at the top of this page – That’s for me. I’m working from the 1st – Don’t know about the second, have been on the next four from when I’m writing this, which gives me two days off in between.
Continue reading “Week 305 – No Idea, No Coal And No Difference.”
Well, we are now at Week 304.
I hope everyone had as good a Christmas as possible.
I do think that today, not the day that I am writing this, but the day that you are reading it, unless it is any other day than the day that it was posted, is the most depressing day of the year. It feels like those depressing Sunday nights where Monday mornings loomed.
Maybe it’s just me and I don’t know why I feel that way. Maybe something happened to me in a past life.
Continue reading “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeelll, (I checked Phonetically) Chic Young Is A Legend And Who Wants A Pasty When You Can Fuck A Sophia Loren?”
And it is now Week 303.
Before I forget I need to let you all know that we are not stopping for Christmas. We will be posting stories all through.
The reason is quite simple, we are around ten weeks in advance and if we had stopped publishing that would have taken us over a three month waiting time which we don’t want. We would like to stay between eight and ten weeks if possible.
The only thing to be aware of is we may not be about as much as normal but if you submit or comment, then we will get around to answering and authorising.
Continue reading “Week 303 – The Leader Of The Rat-Pack, Three Barrels Is Minging And Popeye’s Obvious Love For Power Ballads.”
Well here we are at Week 302.
I find it interesting not just the state of mind that someone is in when they write but actually when they write.
Continue reading “Week 302 – Showaddywaddy, Yes Jesus Loves Me And Everyone Needs Some Bowakawa Pousse, Pousse.”
Thanks to everyone who took part in last weeks celebratory post!!
It was a lot of fun to do and to see the response.
Onwards and upwards to posting number 301!
Continue reading “Week 301 – Questionable Bargains, Aneurisms And Remembering Petunia’s Tongue.”
Jimmy’s knees were indented where his elbows dug into them.
He gently moved to and fro on the swing. He could hear his father singing some old song that he’d heard too many times. He looked across the road and saw Charlie The Paedo staring at him. Jimmy knew if he told his dad, he’d end up in jail again.
He heard the pub door open, “Here you go son. Is your mum not back from the bogs?”
The boy shook his head. He accepted the crisps and can of Coke.
Continue reading “Karaoke At The Pincher’s Arms by Hugh Cron – Warning Adult Content”
Here we are at week 299.
Our sixth year anniversary was on Tuesday but we will deal with that next week on our 300th posting.
We are still not publishing plague stories and do as much as we can not to mention it, you may have noticed.. But we do have something to thank it for and that is the removal of Peter Sutcliffe from this planet. I’m hoping that it has a job in hell repeatedly killing Thatcher only for it to make it redundant.
Continue reading “Week 299 – Hell Getting Fuller, Plunging A Prick In A Prancer Pullover And Crocogaters Living On Tropical Islands.”
Three thousand days in and America is still counting.
Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but it feels that way.
You wouldn’t see that happening in Britain. Our powers that be are a lot more organised than that. Well maybe not so much organised, but for every day not being in power is expenses that they are missing out on and children that they aren’t molesting.
Continue reading “Week 298 – Perfect Poaching, A Gorgeous Glare And A Respectful End.”
Here we are at Week 297.
There were some comments between us this week that made me think on meaning of story.
We are all three people.
Continue reading “Week 297 – A Trio Of Being, Being Shit With Charcoal And Worry For The Silent.”
I’ve always liked Gin.
Straight gin that is.
I know exactly where it started…My love for the gin.
I used to go to my mum’s boss’s house with my parents and I was allowed the odd can of beer. One night that we were there, his old aunties were visiting.
Weird they were.
literally stories 