A Kvetch
We have now officially opened the twelfth year of Literally Stories UK. And as it goes in life we have faced a recent challenge after we were listed (unbeknownst to us) by one of those publications that do such things. I do not know why such services still exist in the era of Google, nor do I grasp why people rely on such services, but the situation exists.
Continue reading “Week 560: A New Year Begins”
This year’s competition, held in Zurich, will see strong challenges from the Eastern European bloc, hoping to break the Scandinavian dominance of recent years. However, three time champion, Roine Svensson, remains the bookies’ firm favourite to retain his title. Dimitri Zitesev, head of the Bulgarian delegation, was adamant however, “Our men have been training all year for this event. We are very confident.” Despite the dark cloud that hangs over their participation, Zitesev insists, “the doping allegations have not distracted us from our goal.”
Continue reading “European Dishwasher Stacking Championship by Michael Smith”
I have decided to cut down on my use of the exclamation mark. I have often used it as a shortcut to fake a sense of goodwill that I do not usually feel–or at not least up to the degree implied by an exclamation mark. There’s a stink on an exclamation mark, for me it reeks of perkiness and whatever potion lurks in Kathy Lee Gifford’s coffee cup. (You’ll probably have to be an American of a certain age to get that last bit. If not, lucky day: something to google.)
Continue reading “Week 555: Controlling Enthusiasm”
1880, Charleston Settlement, Oregon Territory
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Hope was getting old. The thrill was gone, and her wiccan skills were diminishing due to her lack of enthusiasm. Oh, she could still raise a demon, but they were low rent, stereotypical evil and talked too much; most tended to live in the past with little thought given the future. And she could still impress the hell out of the feeble-minded, but public schooling was cutting into the ignorance she had so long depended on. Educated people tend to ask questions. They see a three-headed frog and attribute it to science instead of witchcraft. Bastards.
Continue reading “My Fair Wiccan by Leila Allison”
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Enter the Adverb Queen
Daisy trotted into my office then up the small critter ramp that runs from the floor to my desktop (Cats ignore it, they’d rather leap up and give me a heart attack). She began speaking without a preamble.
Continue reading “And a Geep Shall Lead Them by Leila Allison”
Samuel Waggoner never used his own products. People admired that about him; Waggoner’s Wigs were so good, had he used them, no one would ever have known. An Australian, he fought in Vietnam and emerged from the jungles with a secret ingredient that turned dried-out hair from barbers’ floors into manes which shone like honey and lasted and lasted. He built a wig empire, became a rich man, he married a stage actress, Harriet, for love, he bought a big house outside Darwin. He was totally bald.
Continue reading “Heir by Sam Graveney”
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Obnoxious is What Obnoxious Does appears to be the student motto at The Lamb School of Saragun Springs. A superior percentage of the juvenile Ewes and Rams at Lamb School are spoiled, mouthy brats who show no appreciation for their homeland. You can tell them that if they were born anywhere else but Saragun Springs, they would neither talk nor think beyond the undemanding standards nature has set for Sheep, and they will laugh at you. And dare toss the prospect of New Zealand at them, they merely fake a yawn and launch into a new groundless complaint to counter your empty threat.
Continue reading “Rock and Roll Lamb School 666 by Leila Allison”
Drummossie, Aberdeenshire – January, 1976.
Because I couldn’t afford the necessary welding repairs to my Morris van til the end of the month, I was getting a daily lift into Aberdeen, with my friend and neighbour, Stewart. Aberdeenshire is the cold shoulder of Scotland and it was a hard winter. Normally, if you’re getting a lift into work, it would be churlish to object to push-starting your friend’s car. But, in a week of snow and ice, push-starting a VW beetle first thing in the morning involves a major (nay, crippling) effort. So, come Friday, I was pleading with Stewart: we would have to replace his starter motor that weekend. Stewart readily agreed, little knowing the pain and humiliation that would ensue.
Continue reading “The VW Starter Motor Catastrophe by Michael Bloor”
Our cast
Re-education Story Lady………Dame Daisy Kloverleaf
Truant Officer Aye………………Beezer Baw
Truant Officer Nae…………… Barkevious Baw
The Lamb Sextuplets…………..Themselves
Principal …………………………Penrose the Flying Weasel
The Bogey-Sheep……………..Juan Gee
Superintendent Renfield………Herself (actually drunk, a method actress)
Continue reading “The Insolence of the Lambs: A Feckless Fable by Leila Allison”
Act One: What Goes Up Eventually Leaves a Crater
Nowadays, the amazing comeback of the boy band, the billigits, is all the rage in Saragun Springs. The cycle of fame travels extremely fast in fantasy realms. For six weeks the boys (natives of the Springs) were flying high, superstars in the Springs’ sister realm called Other Earth; launched by the spectacular success of their debut album, meet the billigits (billigits do not use capital letters). Yet six weeks later, the band imploded, and the billigits were just another pockmark in the town of hasbeenville.
Continue reading “Anita Knows by Leila Allison”
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