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A POEM

A beautiful woman with green skin

And a tall, flat-topped head

Is grabbing me by the arms

And shouting in my face.

As I tend to have trouble concentrating

I start thinking about a video

I saw on YouTube the previous day.

The video was of a cat.

For some reason I laugh out loud

And then I suddenly snap back into

The here and now

And the woman bursts into tears.

She runs off down the corridor

And leaps out of the burning

Zeppelin, leaving me to my fate.

I haven't had an interesting life.

And Then

And then I found myself at the top of a bus, driving into the classroom. Funny, I thought, it seems a lot bigger than it was. A lot murkier too. And then as we drove around we came along some young people. These were the kind leading a revolt against the machines of the corporations. And then they started to throw pens and other objects around in a hope to blind someone. One girl cackled, I've got these pens. But I realised it wouldn't make much difference, she would just sneer at me for being a geek. And then as I walked off the bus, which quickly melted into vapour and the room shrunk to its normal, more comforting size, more people came in and a pen hit my head. I turned to see a gibbering girl gibbering gibbering girl gibbering I did it! I Am DARK! And then I picked up a boomerang and threw it at her in anger, of course it twisted around in air before it hit the idiot and it started coming back to me. I ducked out of the way and it flew out of the room. I twisted my body around just in time to see it stun a teacher outside in the corridor. And then another teacher walked in, along with a whole other bunch of people. And then she walked in, and though outwardly I didn't show any emotion apart from a Hi, how are you, I was so, so thrilled at seeing her again, I wanted to throw my arms around her, but I didn't know how she would react.

And then the lesson began.

And then she said, Hiya, and smiled at me. And she began to whiten her face with makeups. I noticed she seemed to be somewhat younger than she looked last time I saw her. The teacher pointed out that this lesson we would be doing a Flash presentation for Christ Excellent. I already had ideas of little green flashing boxes. And then I turned to see her again, and saw that she had sucessfully whitened her face, and had done some oriental make up. I also noticed that she seemed to be acting much more demurely then to how she was acting to just a few minutes ago. And then she turned to me and gave me a look by rolling her eyes in my direction. She whispered, That oaf there, I'm just humouring him, he's going to get a shock soon, I promise. She winked. I smiled and inwardly gave a sigh of relief.

And then the girl who had thrown a pen at me began to adjust her huge hoop earrings. I gave a suprised hoot of laughter as she smashed through the ceiling, and flew upwards into the sky above us. And then suddenly the oaf hurtled upwards and smashed through the ceiling. The girl I loved had attached him to a skyhook.

And then before I knew it the lesson was over, and I had to pack up. She began the task of returning to western ideals. And then I thought, shall I tell her? ...Nah. Better not. The teacher laughed and was dragged upwards and through the ceiling via a skyhook. And then she put her shirt back on.

And then the universe kind of disintegrated, leaving the two of us in a sea of black nothing except for a floor and a spotlight, and we both danced a strange, stop-start dance as music played. The music then ebbed away, and she kissed me and smiled, and walked off into the darkness, leaving me on my own. And then

Everybody's Doing It Nowadays

The other night I attended Alan's big birthday party at his house. I was talking with Alan at the about the subject of cars when I noticed a thick, semiclear liquid was oozing from his trousers onto the floor, forming a large sticky puddle. I asked Alan what was going on. He said, "Oh, it's nothing, I'm just spawning." I did not understand, and he sensed this, so he explained more clearly. "Human spawning. It's a little bit like what fish do, only in reverse. I'm just laying my seed down on the floor, so a passing female can fertilize her eggs. It's all right. Everybody's doing it nowadays." A girl then threw herself onto the puddle and started rolling around in it. "You a daddy!" said the girl. "You a mummy!" said Alan. I left for some nuts. After consuming the nuts, I needed to urinate. I walked upstairs and into the bathroom. The sight I saw upon opening the door was of Alan and the girl lying dead on the floor with their throats torn out. I wondered what had happened. Then a baby with razor-sharp teeth flew towards me. It sunk its teeth in my lower left arm, and I shook a lot to try and get rid of it. Eventually I fell out the window and onto the patio below. The baby broke some of the fall, but my left arm and both legs were damaged. When the ambulance men loaded me into the ambulance, I asked what had happened to the baby, but they didn't understand and said they hadn't seen a baby. The last thing I saw before they closed the doors was Alan standing outside, pointing and laughing. I haven't been allowed out of hospital yet.

Teenagers don't have depths to their faces, they look like guppies

I've been growing and harvesting teenagers for 34 years now - it's a very satisfying and interesting job. People ask me how teenager harvesting began. The story goes like this - one day in 1957, Mister Bowyersbobo, who ran the business then and founded it after he was shot, heard about a new type of people on the wireless. It wasn't a proper wireless, actually, it was a box with a psychic midget in. The midget was going crazy over this new thing - teenagers. He thought to himself, "People aged between 13 to 19? It's a crazy idea, but it might just work." That was his genius, he knew you could make money out of something like that. This is how we do it - we grow the teenagers in a high protein flask, where they start from eggs to become cubs. When they get to cub stage we let them run around and test their limbs in the pod. It's green. On Sundays we like to drive go-karts around it. Then after that we place them in a large tank full of salt water. There they grow extra fins which will help them in dangerous situations in the future. The final age they become varies from teenager to teenager, some end up about 14, others 18. I always love going to the tank to feed them - the look in their eyes, you think they've got some kind of human intelligence. They love it when you stroke them - there's a girl over there, I call her Sandra, who always smacks her legs when you tickle her belly! Ha ha ha ha ha ha. As well as growing teenagers we also grow things like A-levels. There's a very good crop coming up for next year, I have to say - they're only in jelly form at the moment but it's turning out just smashing! When they're fully developed we sell them to passing tourists or tense businessmen. They make lovely pets. They need a lot of care, though, a lot of chips are needed every day to make sure they maintain that glossy coat. It's always sad parting from them, they almost become like children to me. But you must always part, for there is always more work to be done on the next generation.

Kimmy Terylene

You know that music video channel, The Box? They carried out this secret experiment a while ago, where they locked up this bloke in a room with a TV showing just The Box. They kept him in there for four days. When they opened the door at the end of the experiment, they found just a pile of clothes on the floor. Inside the pile of clothes was a small, smooth ball of flesh with a mouth that just kept moaning. I was at home, watching telly. I was flicking though the channels, and the second I came to The Box, the doorbell rang. I got out of my chair and stumbled over to the front door. I opened it and found Britney Spears standing there, naked and covered with blood, with an axe in her hand. There was a terrible, frightened look in her eyes. She shivered and her face gave a huge twitch. "Help me, help me. I've killed and I'll kill again. Kimmy Terylene told me to do it. She'll tell me to do it again.. until there is nothing but darkness and all is silenced.. I've already killed my dancers and my back up singers and my producer.." I freaked and closed the door. I heard some grunting. I waited a bit then carefully opened the door again. She had gone. Ten minutes later, I was flicking though the channels again. The second I came to The Box, the doorbell rang. I got out of my chair and stumbled over to the front door. I opened it and found H (ex of Steps) standing there, naked and covered with blood, with an axe in his hand. There was a terrible, frightened look in his eyes. He shivered and his face gave a huge twitch. "Help me, help me. I've killed and I'll kill again. Kimmy Terylene told me to do it. She'll tell me to do it again.. until there is nothing but darkness and all is silenced.. I've already killed my dancers and my back up singers and my producer.." I freaked and closed the door. I heard some grunting. I waited a bit then carefully opened the door again. He had gone. Ten minutes later, I was flicking though the channels again. The second I came to The Box, the doorbell rang. I got out of my chair and stumbled over to the front door. I opened it and found Cat Deeley standing there, naked and covered with blood, with an axe in her hand. There was a terrible, frightened look in her eyes. She shivered and her face gave a huge twitch. "Help me, help me. I've killed and I'll kill again. Kimmy Terylene told me to do it. She'll tell me to do it again.. until there is nothing but darkness and all is silenced.. I've already killed my PR and my camera crew and my producer.." I freaked and closed the door. I heard some grunting. I waited a bit then carefully opened the door again. She had gone. Ten minutes later, I was flicking though the channels again. The second I came to The Box, the doorbell rang. I got out of my chair and stumbled over to the front door. I opened it and found Andi Peters standing there, naked and covered with blood, with an axe in his hand. There was a terrible, frightened look in his eyes. He shivered and his face gave a huge twitch. "Help me, help me. I've killed and I'll kill again. Kimmy Terylene told me to do it. She'll tell me to do it again.. until there is nothing but darkness and all is silenced.. I've already killed the governing board of directors at Channel 4 and Graham Norton.." I freaked and closed the door. I heard some grunting. I waited a bit then carefully opened the door again. He had gone. Later that night, I saw an item on the local news that was about Britney, H, Cat and Andi. Apparently they had gone on a killing spree in the Sutton branch of Boots and had a group sex session afterwards, when they were arrested by police. Apparently they'll have to spend the rest of their life in a mental hospital. This just goes to show something, although I'm sure I don't know what.

I saw a horse once and it was eating and crapping at the same time. BARBEQUE! BARBEQUE! BARBEQUE! The Government hates our sexuality. BARBEQUE! BARBEQUE! BARBEQUE! Why don't they make cartoons like they used to? Dora The Explorer needs to get her fucking head punched.

Your Pretty Self

I used to work as a waiter in Chazpenk, the hip post-post-post modern restaraunt in Milano, Italy. The food was overpriced and unremarkable and the clientele jug eared and hooting, but there was one interesting thing about the place that I'll tell you about now.

The top chef had four very long nerve endings that, as part of the restaruant's gimmick and to add to the general ambience, were trailed out of the kitchen and into the main dining room, gaffer taped to the floor. The first nerve ending controlled the chef's right arm. The second, his left arm. The third and fourth, his right and left leg respectively. After a good meal, the customers were encouraged to stamp on the nerve endings, and watch what happened through through the large kitchen window. Often you could get groups of four coked up fuckpieces madly stomping away, making the chef goosestep around the kitchen, Nazi saluting and madly swatting away invisible men. Some people were better at manipulating the chef's limbs than others, and one party of young female secetaries from the offices of the nu media firm Blap First managed to get the chef to reproduce Micheal Jackson's entire dance routine from the "Billie Jean" video. For this they were awarded a special spoon. It was special as it had been painted with glitterglue to make it magic. Opposite the restaruant was an art shop. It sold robot arses in painted boxes for 10€ each (or 5€ if you were a student).

I may or may not be me, or I may be only one version of me at a different stage of my life. I may be something like a cube of energy flickering between different points of the strangest time on earth, or it may be that I have never existed an i'm just a hologram tightening up the blue sense. Or perhaps there is a real me, but it's no-one you have ever met, and if he and me ever met he would never stop screaming.

#Sartre

drawings I would like to draw, if I was good at drawing, which i am not

1. Jennifer Aniston with a hand protruding from her torso, which is clutching a sign that says "GET OUT"

2. The birth of a god

3. A really big duck (3 metres wide)

Alice

I knew a girl once, name was Alice, she had no eyes, mouth or nose, just a blank exapanse of skin for a face upon which the only features of any kind were 13 huge pulsing veins. The veins were arranged in such a way that they spelt out a message. The message was "Bumarse". As she had no eyes of her own, she saw through the eyes of Peter Frampton. Quite disentoriating - she had ears, so she could hear someone talking to her, but she would see a thousand rock fans going Frampton crazy in a stadium in Phillidelphia. In addition to this, Frampton himself would not see through his own eyes, but see through the eyes of General Pinochet. Apparently he said in an interview to Rolling Stone in 1992 that all the ex-dictator with a dicky back ever did was throw up on a bouncy castle with a bevy of busty beauties barbequing a benny. In turn, Pinochet did not see through his own eyes either, but instead saw through the eye of a potato. No one knows where the potato is, but Pinochet claims he saw a crow in a chef's hat make threatening gestures to it. I heard that Alice had a baby recently, it had eyes and a nose and a mouth and everything, but it had a birthmark on its back, which spelt out a message. The message was "Is that really the best you can do?"

There Is Nothing In My Heart But Gravy

I am Alex James. I live in the hot, hot, sewers. I fight the terrorists.

I fight them with my fists. I fight them with my feet.

I fight them with my pipe and bass guitar and cigarette hanging out of the side of my mouth. They try to drive me out of the sewers with gas and poking sticks, but I bite their sticks in two and breathe in all their gas and LAUGH! Because I am invincible!

I slither on my belly through the poo and wee and defuse their bombs. With my motherfucking cock!

Another cappuccino, please.

Brett Anderson, Master Architect

Chessington World Of Adventures has a secret ride which was designed by Brett Anderson of Suede. It's called "Shooty-Moon", a big cannon which fires people up to the moon. The ride can only be operated for ten minutes after midnight, and is hidden in a girl. He also made a statue of Mr T to be erected in Leatherhead High Street, but Greenpeace made him take it down because they thought it could have someone's eye out.

I had been thrown out of my flat by my partner. She said in between sobbing that she couldn't cope with my mood swings anymore, and that my legs were being discussed in dark tones in pubs across the city. As a result I spent several nights out in the snow.

One day I was walking along a busy road licking the most I could out of an orange peel when I found noticed a ten pound note hanging in mid air over the pavement. I grabbed the note, delighted that it would serve me with more orange peels, when I felt a tug and I was hauled upwards by some eerie force. Looking more closely at the note I saw a hook which was attached to a piece of strong wire that led upwards to some kind of structure between two skyscrapers. I decided to hold on and see what was at the other end of the wire.

When I reached the other end, I saw I had been caught by a man with a fishing rod. He was sitting on a long wooden plank, 10 meters wide, and had a nice selection of baits - money, cars, dolls. The man grabbed me and took me off the hook. He turned his nose up and said, "4F". Then he threw me over his body and I landed with a painful crump next to a huge pile of people. They had their arms bound behind them with rope, and they all looked rather cross.

At this point a police helicopter descended from the sky and a man with a loud voice or possibly a megaphone said, "Richard Shardy, put your hands over your head and turn around." Richard Shardy didn't do that. Instead he jumped into the pile of people and tried stuffing their limbs in his mouth. The man with the megaphone said, "He's trying to eat the livestock! Get him!" There was gun fire and suddenly Richard Shardy was clutching his chest, no longer interested in limbs. He fell off the plank and presumably met a death below.

Afterwards on the ground I talked to a policeman about the events. "He had been doing that for years, " he said, "stealing people from the streets and selling them to restaurants and building societies. Well, a lucky escape for you, eh? Toddle off back to your flat, now." I explained I had no flat, that I was between homes. In response he led me back to my old flat - somehow he knew the address - and my partner welcomed me with open arms. I don't know why, but she has a scar on her forehead now.

#flash fiction #surrealism #4f #fiction #journey

HYPNOTIST: Look deep into my eyes, deep into my eyes. 1, 2, 3, and you’re asleep. When you wake up, you will HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHAHDAIHDIHDIHAIDAIHHAH H AH HAH HAI HIAI HAH IHA AHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHGGHGHIUFIAHOF When you wake up 1, 2, 3, bright and alert now. Do you still feel like smoking?

PATIENT: BLEEDING EVERYWHERE

a description of an imaginary hollywood cartoon from the 1940s

The 20th Century Fox logo appears, and mixes into the opening credits of the cartoon. We see still pictures of Little Lulu getting into various scrapes as the names of the key personnel who worked on the cartoon are shown. The titlecard then appears, and the title of the cartoon is “A Sticky Situation”. Then this all fades out and we iris in to Little Lulu sitting in a chair, smiling blankly. She grabs her lips and pulls them, stretching them like elastic. Then she lets go. They dangle loosely from her face. Then she grabs her left leg and pulls it, again stretching it like elastic. Then she lets go. It flops down and the end lies on the ground all curled up. Then she does the same with her other leg. Then she does the same with her right arm. Then she does the same with her left arm. Then she hisses like a snake and we hear women screaming from somewhere distant on the soundtrack. She twists her head around and around and around, as if it were a wheel on a bicycle. Then she stops twisting her head and her eyes roll back into their sockets. A forked tongue slithers out from her mouth. The screaming gets louder. She slowly slides off the chair and falls onto the floor, and her limbs move like worms as she writhes. Her long lips curl up and cover her chin and nose. There is a closeup of her teeth, with the gums fully exposed. Black fluid seeps between the gaps in the teeth. Cut to a man seemingly frozen in the middle of demented laughter. His mouth is wide open and his eyes are looking around, the only mobile part of his body. The screaming gets louder. Close up of the man’s eyes looking over to the left. Cut to the frozen man with Little Audrey slithering up to him slowly, her head juddering wildly and her limbs flailing. Close up of the man’s eyes again. He starts to sweat and his eyes look worried. Then we see Little Audrey’s forked tongue move into view, and it licks his eyeball repeatedly. The pupil of the man’s eye shrinks to a pinprick. The screaming gets even louder. Cut to a crowd scene of thousands of dead men and women outside Little Audrey’s house, face down in flood water. Cut back to inside the house. The man is now a skeleton, in the same position he was in when we last saw him. Little Audrey quivers on the floor, steam hissing from her mouth, which makes her lips flap. The music on the soundtrack goes “wab wab wab waaa-aaah”. Iris out. The 20ts Century Fox logo fades back in, with “A 20th Century Fox CARTOON IN TECHNICOLOR” written over it. The music on the soundtrack reaches a jaunty end and the logo fades out. The screaming on the soundtrack continues for another minute over a black screen, until it is cut off and there is a brief flash of leader.

The First TV Ident

“Idents”, or “identification symbols”, are the things that appear just before television programmes that tell you what channel you’re watching. They have evolved over the years, from being an animated version of the channel’s logo to the more sophisticated style of today where the logo only appears for three seconds and for the rest of its just people wandering about or some buildings or something and you don’t even get a proper jingle or anything and it is rubbish and not as good. But what was the first TV ident?

The first TV ident was for Britain’s first television channel, Tits Ahoy, in 1937. It consisted of a photo of a dying swan which constantly zoomed in and out, with a sound track supplied by a gramophone recording of Oswald Mosely suffering severe dysentry. This controversial ident only lasted 3 weeks, until Tits Ahoy was taken over by the BBC, the nation’s only radio broadcaster. The channel hence became known as the BBC Television Service, and 27 years later became BBC1 following the launch of BBC2. Tits Ahoy and its notorious ident has since been written out of the history books - indeed, ask any BBC employee about it, and they are legally entitled to punch you in your stupid fucking fat face.

#fiction #history #ident #surrealism #swan #tv #bbc #television

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