Wood and Frog

The Count of North Clifton

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B&W Tuesday: Malvern

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FIT

I wonder if my friend woke up this morning feeling peculiar, I wonder if he felt something wasn’t right, a notional suspicion in his gut. Headache, a stiffness in his hips, an aching jaw, who knows, after a bowl of granola and a cup of green tea any doubts were erased and didn’t seem there was anything to bother about. We’ve got very little money in the company depending on who you ask. If you…

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GLAD"II"ATOR...

Twice last week I was given coffee by clients whilst out and about doing what I do (its top secret, cant talk about it) On each of those both twice occasions (Its my blog, hence my grammar rules) the coffee came with the caveat that “Its only instant, sorry about that” It is from these two twice suggested situations that I find myself feeling slightly superior to the folks who drink instant…

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Track Day

I picked up my mother on Friday and woke up with a bad back on Saturday, had to go to a racetrack on Saturday morning waking up at 5:55am for the priviledge, the sat nav took us to a shopping centre in Banbury, which obviously wasn’t a racetrack and so we tried again, postcode, and address, then both together and finally it took us to the racetrack, 20 minutes away with 22 minutes to spare. Had…

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Share the Day

For those interested, last week was my birthday, my daughter’s birthday and her boyfriend’s birthday, all on the same day. I’m a different age but they are the same, we just happen to share the same Day; 9th November, so happy birthday to us, we’re forming a cult. The staff in the restaurant couldn’t believe we shared the same day, I can’t believe i’m now 53, the fact we have the same birthday is…

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Friday Fictioneers: Dashing Damsels

Rochelle it really doesn’t seem like a week has passed since last time Friday Fictioneers came round. The space time continuum is speeding up at a rapid pace and my fingers are aching with the newly cold mornings. That’s aging, sadly, and I fully understand theres not much I can do aside form immersing my self in Turmeric and cod liver oil. So this weeks picture prompt is from Sandra Crook and I…

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Simply Six Minutes... first time

Simply Six Minutes; first time I’ve visited this prompt at Stine Writing, the aim is to write a 6 minute piece about the picture above, in this case a pet crocodile. Who would have one of those who isn’t insane?  So here goes… it’ll be some sort of stream of consciousness I should imagine. I’m getting a beer, setting up, and then I’ll get cracking… “Poor bloke didn’t stand a fucking chance, who…

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Friday Fictioneers: Drain the Swamp

Rochelle , terrible news in the pay rise situation this week, there is none, the government agency has run out of dosh and so we have to work harder, and for less… Seems fair. Anyway, enough of that, lets get down to business, this weeks photograph is by Dale Rogerson, the legend and all around Good Egg from America; there are some… despite this weeks result. But everyone has their opinion I’m…

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A Storm May Be Coming

I’m watching the late night TV coverage of the USA election; that twat Boris Johnson is on, keeps dropping the name of his soon to be bargain bin book, which I won’t mention and don’t look it up, you’re meant to be concentrating. He’s a desperate charlatan, a bin bag full of shit and its a real throwback to the bad old days of Covid and politics under his tenure, and however much I like Channel 4…

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Just Fucking Treats

There will, of course, be  princesses with blood on their faces and blood on their dresses, some sort of hideous accident or more commonly murder; a wretched  rake  condemning them to this world; the world of the undead, uncomfortable  and unsettled, compelled to tramp the streets of Clifton begging for alms, in the darkness, always in the darkness. I fear the dark, and the princesses and the…

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From Midnight

Just went to an awesome, and my first Poetry gig tonight; Mike Garry and John Cooper Clark. My son is at another party, getting an Uber halfway across the county with 3 other lads, potential for vomit in the back of the cab, I’m sat in my comfy chair, listening to Mike Garry and The Cassia String Quartet, sipping cold wine while my daughter is drinking green tea in Manchester; keeping her…

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Friday Fictioneers: Nowhere land

Rochelle since we last touched base, I’ve hosted a very successful dinner party, a whole load off fun, my son had a party for 40 people mostly 17 year olds and we failed atrociously at the pub quiz. And sadly I’ve made several false starts at the FF, head wasn’t in it maybe… Anyway maybe today will be different. Thanks to Lisa Fox for the atmospheric photograph, lets get the thinking cap on. On…

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Party, Party, Annnd Relax.

Its been a busy weekend: A dinner party of which the menu is above, then my 16 year old was having a party, and as the Saturday drew slowly closer my shoulders visibly hunched in an upper torso stress knuckle as I kept repeating the mantra “What the fuck were we thinking?” The dinner party was a smash, all foodstuffs of whatever colour were consumed with joyful abandon, with no recourse to any…

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A Bastard Behind the Eyes

Its been a while, been overwhelmed with work pointlessness and the son’s party happening this saturday. Wouldn’t be so bad; 38 teenagers coming round, but the day after we host a dinner party for 8, so with sore heads and a lack of a quiet place to go, we’ve got to go elsewhere, which may mean pub or friends or both, probably both. Theres no doubt been other stuff going on but nothing important…

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The Internet is out to get me

I’ve just spent a good hour trying to sort out an activity track day given to my son in the form of a voucher. Driving a fast car on a fast racetrack without a licence seems like a specious package. The voucher came in at £44, which allowed for a certain amount off I would have thought, but after squinting at the receipt for the voucher number, having to take a photo of the voucher and then…

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The Only Gay in the Village.

Business was slow for the “only gay in the village”, as he was not so imaginatively called. That joke had worn thin some time ago, not long after the awful TV show was taken off air. Times had changed for sure. The strep outbreak had seen to that, no more was one off the wrist a regular Saturday afternoon activity out by the bins to the back of the pub. A few flyers lay fading and piss stained…

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Club; what was that Club?

Last night I was sat up for an age trying to remember the 90’s, I was there although how does the old adage go? If you can remember then you weren’t there. This is all very well but it’s not true for one and for two, It’s bloody irritating trying to piece back together the 90’s when I’m pretty sure I was a part of a small corner of debauched behaviour in the back streets of early 90’s and mid…

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