I’ve mentioned a few times that we go through the same process as anyone else when we submit our work. To be fair though, I think we’ve all changed from the early days when we first started doing this.
Continue reading “Week 369 – Statistics, (What a cracking word – It’s up there with ‘crocodile’ – A nod to the Kemp Brothers!) Opinions And Worth The Watch.”
Before we start we would all like to say that our hearts bleed for the state this world is in and our thoughts are with all those poor souls who are suffering, being murdered and needing help.
I have mentioned a few times what my shortcomings are when I write.
I am shit at titles, description, imagination, technical terms, character names, to name but a few. There is another hands on discipline that I can’t do for the life of me. I can’t fill a fountain pen without covering myself in ink. I need a roll of kitchen towel, a ream of blotting paper and some industrial hand cleaner. I have splash marks up my wall from a re-filling attempt. My cat loves to ridicule me as he sits on the headrest of the chair and stares at the splodges.
I’ve stared at them myself to see what I can see, I don’t think there are ten, I can only make out five. They are :
1. Greta Thunberg with sunburn and wrapped in plastic.
2. Yosemite Sam’s nose and half of his moustache eating a kumquat.
3. A seahorse derby that is won by the 7-4 second favourite named Gerald.
4. A raspberry blancmange toasted sandwich.
5. A Rainbow fighting a packet of M&Ms and losing an eye only for one of the M&M’s to take pity and stand in. (And for all you Romance Writers – It wasn’t the bloody green one!)
I’m not sure if these are disturbing. I do know that one is a wish!
There are two weird things about these interpretations.
1. I hate toasties.
2. The ink blots are only in black.
We all know a few things about James Bond. He wore Oxfords, drank a Vodka Martini, carried a Walther PPK and used a Ronson Lighter. I wonder if he used a Dupont Fountain Pen?? (He’d need to win a few hands of Blackjack – Those bastards are expensive!)
If he did my admiration has went up ten fold. Okay, he could get away with the tuxedo but he’d look a right tit saving the world with ink blots on his shirt.
Talking about ink blots on clothes. Our anniversary was on the tenth and Gwen had a problem with a fountain pen long before me. When she was signing the marriage certificate, the pen leaked and she spilled some of the ink onto her dress. Now a lot of Bride Divas would have had a tantrum but she was a bit more philosophical about things and had a fag. She said that she’d always have the ink from the very first time she had signed her name Cron.
I read somewhere that this was the week in history when Alexander Graham Bell patented the telephone. (7th March 1876).
A few things came to mind.
– ‘Alexander Graham Bell’ is a terrible but brilliant song by the Glam Rock band ‘The Sweet.’
– I wonder if Mr Bell ever considered that his invention would be used more for pouting arseholes taking pictures of their ridiculous eyebrows rather than actually used for speaking to people.
– I really do wish that ‘Ahoy’ had been taken up as the greeting when a call was answered. I don’t suppose this wouldn’t really have changed anything:
…Ahoy…Is it me you’re looking for. (Poor Lionel! Nothing could save that song!)
…I just called to say Ahoy.* (Poor Stevie! Nothing could save that song either!)
…Ahoy! Are you wearing any knickers? (Let’s be honest a perv is a perv!!)
…Ahoy. Have you been sold PPI in the last five years. (No change there, The answer to that is still ‘Fuck off!!’)
…’You had me at Ahoy’ (Nope! No difference. Rene would still overact and Cruise still has a face you’d want to slap into next week!)
Okay, onto this week’s stories.
We had no first timers this week but what we did have were five writers who have two hundred and twenty two stories between them.
But to be fair, anytime Mr Sheehan is published, the average soars.
As always our initial comments follow.
The man himself was first up with ‘What’s In My Wallet‘.
This is story number 160 for Tom Sheehan.
That amount of stories makes my head hurt!!
And unbelievably, there are a lot more to come.
‘These stories regarding Korea are always excellent.’
‘This is up to Tom’s brilliant standard.’
‘Tom’s output continues to be beyond belief!’
It was great to see L’Erin Ogle back with another story.
Her sixteenth was called ‘Cherries‘ and it was published on Tuesday.
‘L’Erin is as dark as ever.’
‘Gripping.’
‘Shocking and excellent.’
Tony Osgood broke the back of the week with his fourth outing entitled, ‘Here Come Grandfather’s Goats’
‘So bloody hard hitting and brutal it moves you if you have any soul at all.’
‘The situations that cause this sort of desperation have never eased at anytime in history.’
‘The more times you read the story, the more you appreciate the writing.’
On Thursday we had our lovely fellow editor Diane.
‘Snow‘ was her thirty second story for the site.
‘Perfect word count.’
‘Unlike so many short shorts, this has a beginning, a middle and an end.
‘Even though it is so short, it takes time to unfold.’
We finished off with Alex Sinclaire who has now reached a milestone. This is Alex’s tenth story for us and that means he is in only the 3% of writers who have ever managed this.
Many congratulations Alex!!
‘Dengue Fever‘ completed the week.
‘A Narrative was accomplished within the rolling madness.’
‘Very dark.’
‘The ambiguity was done to great effect.
Usual prodding or poking or whatever.
Please comment, it makes the Great God Timatuma very happy.
I see that Steven French has joined our band of frequent commentators – Thanks so much for that!!
And someone please have a go at the Sunday Re-Run. I don’t know how to tempt you. Maybe by suggesting you get some medication for shyness. (Buckfast works in Scotland) Or telling you if you are a writer and want to get your voice out there, why not do a spiel and throw in a few questions for an author of a story that you’ve enjoyed. We’ll publish exactly what you send us. And that feature is looked at by around three hundred people every Sunday.
And just to finish off. I see that another attempt at replacing bearskins with synthetic furs has been refused for those regiments who protect the Paedo’s Mother. It is argued that the synthetic caps loose their shape. Here’s a mad idea, why not change the design of the stupid looking hat?
But I think I have a cracking idea. Why not have a reality TV show where members of the royal family are sent out into the Canadian Wilderness armed with a penknife and they have to find and fight a Black Bear for its fur.
If they are successful, then there is a new hat for a Guardsman. But if they lose, they’d need to abdicate or live in exile or more than likely, be shovelled up.
Fuck your Love Island – I’d watch that!
Hugh
(At time of writing I can’t confirm if the harry one has accepted the job as host.)
* I know that is the wrong lyrics but every now and then I like to re-iterate how bad that song is!!!
I read that one of my old gaffers had died a few weeks back and something that happened to me last week tied the two in.
Continue reading “Week 365 – Mr Popularity Getting Over It, Mr And Mrs Hilarity Sharing It And No Sweat For Mr Windsor Paying It.”
Here we go again, another week has been and gone. I’ll be delighted to see this posting on the site as that means that I’ll be off for a week after finishing this morning.
These days off were one of those holidays that were more of a use-up than something that was planned and what is so good about them was I thought I wasn’t off for another week.
Continue reading “Week 363 – Personnel Empathy, Twenty Five For Dave Henson And Fifty For Mr Jackson.”
It seems ages since I typed one of these.
Leila has done a sterling job!!
I would like to mention Christmas and New Year, not for any particular reason except to say that I heard one of the best come-backs ever. One of the most cutting observations from a comedienne. And a one liner from another comedienne about being a vegan.
Continue reading “Week 359 – Listening, Questioning And I Was Sad To Have Missed Seeing Jane Leeves But I Was Always Happy To Have Brought The Coal In For My Old Gran Instead!!”
Well, it’s Christmas. Well, not really. Actually, as I write this, it is the twentieth. But since Christmas can be prevented only by the end of the world, the odds favor it coming round with this little missive floating down like a snowflake (or a grain of volcanic ash, depending on how you look at things).
I hope you gave people the things you wanted to give them. That of course is a terribly open wide, bend over kind of statement, but how others stuff stockings is none of my business.
Lots of people self medicate their way through the season. If alcohol was invented on a specific day, then I see none more appropriate than 25 December 0000. I imagine that back when the Lord walked, a constant intake of mead made living in an era where forty was extremely old, the Romans and their three-hundred gods were bossy thugs, and sanitary facilities were likely stone and thatch rat sanctuaries (which no doubt gave a different meaning to “Jingle Hop” and “Jingle Rock”) tolerable. I do not necessarily advocate drinking as the sole means of surviving the company of noismome persons you’d not seek to be around on any other winter day, for there are other drugs which can put a smile on your face and dull the edge of your tongue for as long as such abilities need to be available.
Anyway, whether you celebrate all twelve days or only go as far as watching the first ten minutes of Scrooged, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you.
This is the site’s last week of free range publishing in 2021. Until we resume regular posting the first week of 2022, the reader will be treated to a landslide of dubious material created by this dubious person as well as a classy western themed day by our own Tom Sheehan. Sanity will be restored on Monday, 3 January 2022. That happens to be my birthday. It is one of the worst locations possible for a child’s birthday because nine times in ten it is the dark and gloomy morning that students go back to school after Christmas break. Even children are weary of “special” events by 3 January. One kid tried to trump my 3 January with his 5 July. I pointed out that his birthday didn’t mean squat anywhere else in the world and that it was held in July, during summer vacation. I believe that darker observations on matters of character were also shared, but I really don’t remember.
But five things I will happily remember are the stories featured during this last normal week of 2021. We have one debut author plus four masters who have over 250 appearances between them–one has set a stunning year record that will be difficult to top.
Marco Etheridge opened Monday with Quiet Longed For, and You. This is Marco’s fifteenth and there are more to come. This piece is one where the title says what it is about, but with every unfolding emotion and displaced thought, it grows into another example of the personal style that Marco excels at.
We ran out of year before Yashar Seyedbagheri ran out of quality stories. On Tuesday Yash clocked in with Step. That made 41 this year. Although there have been some big numbers in the past, none rate higher than the one Yash put up. He writes with great economic flow and I doubt that there are many more than fifty combined words in his list of titles. It’s difficult to imagine Yash getting by people who visit the site, but if that is the case with you, please check him out.
Another inescapable LS writer is Tom Sheehan. On Wednesday his latest, Too Lonely For Dying showed that after all his successes he still has something new to show the reader. Tom’s 150th will open next year, and I can think of no finer birthday present to open.
James Hanna’s Biff Malibu strutted onsite, Thursday. It contains the wry humor so often displayed by James in his eighteen site stories. And it is also a fine tribute to a marriage in which there is still humor and playfulness after so many years.
Lone newcomer Mark Scofield closed the week and year with Horseshoes and Hand Grenades on Friday, Christmas Eve. It is fitting that his entertaining tale of “closeness” should mark the end of one year and open a link to the next. We are all about our old friends, but we also head into the future looking forward to meeting new ones, such as Mark.
Although some of what I’ve just written will appear again in one form or another below, I sincerely wish Diane, Hugh, Nik, Mike, James, Tom, Yash, Marco and all our authors, submitters, readers and Imaginary Friends who live in bottle a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Leila
We are thrilled and excited to bring the news that our long term friend and now editor Leila Allison has reached the dizzying record of 100 stories on the site.
This is incredible and in honour of this amazing feat we are giving Leila a week of her own to publish whatever she chooses with no need to have the works pass through the acceptance stage. They have been automatically accepted and we are absolutely convinced that whatever we have to read in the next week will be the same amazing, thought provoking, amusing, touching stuff as she has presented us with over the last 100 submissions.
Continue reading “Week 356: Merry Christmas and some exciting news. 100 for Leila.”
Here we are at Week 355.
This is my last posting of the year. We have a couple more specialised ones and one I think from Leila next week.
Continue reading “Week 355 – Jesus Speak, Teribble Speling, And Withdrawal Isn’t Just Inconsiderate Birth Control.”
I write a lot of pish in these postings but and it’s a big BUT, I try and give some guidance and an idea on our thinking and reasoning.
Continue reading “Week 353 – No Fucking About With The Title, Just A Hope For A Wee Dog!”
What can we say?
Do we have a skin complaint?
Do we feel lucky?
Are we a colour of the rainbow?
Which of the dwarves would we be?
And could we consider ourselves a continent?
Continue reading “Happy Birthday to Us – 7 Years.”
I need to thank Leila for the last two postings. She stepped in when I was a bit preoccupied.
But you have no such luck today folks as it’s me again.
Continue reading “Week 349 – Feet Coverings, A Wish On Mr Coopers Sexual Technique And A Recipe For A Burn Worse Than Thrush.”
literally stories 