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I heard toenails slipping on linoleum in the kitchenette off my office. Only Dogs create that sound; and sure enough, upon inspection, I discovered the “Baw Brothers,” Beezer and Barkevious, teaming to raid the refrigerator. I am guilty of leaving the fridge door ajar, so this situation happens almost constantly.
Continue reading “The Adventures of Beezer and Barkevious by Leila Allison”
Kindle is one of the greatest inventions since the pop-top beer can. Anyone who has had to pack and move hundreds of books from one place to another should be grateful for it. I look at my tablet, amazed that I have thousands upon thousands of pages stored in it; enough volumes to make my place look like that of a hoarder. I now own maybe three hundred paper books–down from the high of about fifteen hundred I had on hand in the 90’s.
Continue reading “Week 476: Xtra, Xtra Read All About It; Five, Make That Six Good Reads; Inked Jocularity”
Whether it Be Curbing or Kerbing, Nothing Vomits Sweeter Than Stolen Beer
Society has been going to hell since the invention of the Good Old Days. Funny thing there–because it’s true and yet there are new Good Old Days rolling out of the Good Old Days Factory constantly. A Paradox, until you remember that New People are being produced at even a greater frequency.
Continue reading “Week 472: Where Have You Gone Darby Crash? Punk Bed Fiasco and Not All That Irritates Makes a Pearl”
Snow happens quietly in many places, often overnight, without drama. Pull back the curtains before sunrise and under the streetlamps a sulphur tinted fondant drapes over everything – the rows of Victorian terraced houses on either side of the street, the pavement, cars, wheelie bins, everything. Garden hedges and shrubs sit undisturbed, revealing dots of evergreen just visible through layers of cotton. Higher up, tree branches, recently bare and springy, now sag wearily as bits of fine powder dust off intermittently in the breeze.
Continue reading “Snow Happens by Eileen Emmanuel”
Tastes
I find that I have a narrow spectrum when it comes to reading material. Along with fiction I like non-fiction written by good writers– biographies by David McCollough are a fine example. I never read “celebrity autobiography” and consider the purchase of such a capital offense. The good thing about books is that you can get a feel for them by reading the first couple of pages (forget the blurbs on the cover). Hardly can ask to watch the first five minutes of a film before deciding to buy a ticket or not.
Continue reading “Week 468: Personal Preference; A Week of Preferred Works and the Fictional Pet Department”
Ian was a stereotype.
I didn’t really know him but I knew his wife.
The reason I say ‘stereotype’ is that he was a raging alcoholic but unbelievably functional. The usual story here, he worked in the entertainment industry as a lighting man for a theatre and that was a life that had alcohol not just at the end of the day, also throughout. As long as he could shine a spotlight and in these more technical days, programme a system, no one gave a shit.
Continue reading “Ian by Hugh Cron”
“I need to speak to Peter.”
Ann looked at him and worried straight away.
“What’s wrong love, why has he got you so riled – I mean, for fuck sake, he’s Peter, the most inoffensive wee guy that we’ve ever known.”
Colin gave her a hug, “I don’t want to say anything until I hear his side.”
Continue reading “Peter by Hugh Cron (Strong Adult Content)”
Well here we are, Christmas. Today I choose to remember it well. My family used to include a Dachshund-Chihuahua mix named “Fang” who joined the team when I was in sixth grade (named after Phyllis Diller’s fictional husband). Fang was a fairly peaceful little guy but he hated Christmas trees. Every year he would attack the damn thing late at night at least once. His partner in crime “Rags,” a tiny Rat Terrier, would encourage Fang with little barks, but feign innocence when the light came on.
Continue reading “Week 460: Terminating The Tree With Extreme Prejudice and Welcome to the Holiday Rerun Fest”
Personality
Hypocrisy and altruism stop at roughly the same point in a person. Although finally copping to your own rottenness and experiencing exhaustion at the highest level of do-goodishness you are capable of are not the same thing, both terminate close enough to the center of a person to form a picture.
Continue reading “458: Personality Issues; Beautiful Losers and Winners”
The sixtieth anniversary of The Kennedy Assassination is rapidly approaching. It also marks the sixtieth anniversary of my memory because 22 November 1963 is the first certain date I remember (although I hold what are most likely older visions). It is also the sixtieth anniversary of the conspiracy theories that have dogged the event since.
Continue reading “Week 452: It’s All a Conspiracy; The Real Things and X Marks the File”
literally stories 