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03/01 Direct Link
My leather belt had always been too long. I would tuck the excess length into my left pocket and in doing so, would picture myself as one of those cool, hip dudes of the day. Someone like Matt Goss, Jason Donovan, or Rick Astley. The kind of guy that was forever leaning against something vertical and inanimate, smouldering intensely at something off camera.

After twenty years, I realised the pocket tuck was a young man's game and so trimmed off four inches. I then proceeded to gain sixty pounds in weight. Somewhere around four inches in girth.

This is 'irony'.
03/02 Direct Link
Garbled hair. Aqueous pores. Eyes uninviting.

"The seem is coming apart down here."
"Oh, I'm sorry about that. Let me have a look at that for you."
He leans into her as he passes over the garment. "I bought it just earlier."
She pauses. "Do you have a receipt?"
His expression changes. The venom becomes simmering vulcanity and death. "I don't know what I did with it. Your colleague sold it to me."
"You mean Heather?"
"I don't know her name."
"Hmm... yeah... maybe if you can find your receipt... we can...?"

The air is punctured by a retreating eff.
03/03 Direct Link
The sweat dripped from her nose and landed on his flushed cheekbone, rolling off towards the laugh lines and off away in the direction of the conflagrated ear.

Their gazes were locked. His indifferent - or rather, detached - and hers an unravelling fury.

Her lips moved. Repetitious. Repetitious sounds that had been spat so many times, they had lost all meaning. The message, however, was unchanging.

Another heavy strike. From the left this time. His head moved with the lash and slowly returned to the centre, awaiting more.

She screamed again: "I hate you, you bastard! I'm going to kill you!"
03/04 Direct Link
I sank further into the blue silk that covered her tummy, allowing my cheek to rest against her warmth. I felt nervous. I think maybe she did too, but we needed the lie. We needed to fool ourselves that it was all okay and this contrived intimacy was part of our normal ritual once again.
She stroked my hair, but I could feel a tremble, or a hesitation, that seemed to suck the sensuality from the act.
I nuzzled into her, a drop of saline darkening the slick material that covered the sacred area where a new life once grew.
03/05 Direct Link
He was running hard, weaving in and out, between the screaming masses when something struck him on the side of the head. It wasn't solid enough for him to lose consciousness, but just powerful enough to knock him off his feet.

And they were on him.

There was confusion on his face and in his thoughts. What are they doing? I'm one of them. I was going after the Tutsi... but there's no gang colours. How can they know?

Panic hit him. Hit every cell at once.

"I'm one of you! I'm Hutu!"

"Shut up!"

"Shut up! We kill you!"
03/06 Direct Link
"Tender loving care."
"Tender loving care?"
"That's all you need."
"But she has cancer." I insisted with a hint of incredulous sarcasm.
"It's all about positive energy. My crystals-"
I had to interrupt her: "So you think all those people- those millions- probably billions of people in the history of the world-"
"They weren't positive." She was calm. Her smile was a conflation of bliss and intellectual vacancy. "They didn't truly believe."
"Do you have the numbers on that?"
Her laugh was serene, yet gormless. "Real truth cannot be perceived within the confines of the human mind."

She blinked lazily.
03/07 Direct Link
We journeyed together. We travelled through the spring dew to the time when the sun scorched our skin and the budding greens produces fruit. We danced for a while and spun like tops, giggling as we stared into each other's eyes. We kissed. We lay together in the house that is now just a memory for me, as are the hugs we gifted each other. It was what we needed right then. The light of the day rolled away and left us in darkness, in each other's arms, our bodies as one, but the journey had to end some day.
03/08 Direct Link
I find that offensive, she said.
The annoying part about this is that I've just met her and I'll be working with her closely.
She found it offensive that I didn't like feminism.
Okay, this is a person who gets offended when a man ridicules an ideology, or a movement that she doesn't fully understand. I say when 'a man' ridicules it as I shared it from a woman's feed. There was no comments regarding offence on the woman's feed.
Feminism.
It's like a charity called Samaritans offering help to Muslims. Muslims fought wars against Samaritans. Change the name already.
03/09 Direct Link
You couldn't escape the billboards. There were detractors, sure. "What the hell is this bollocks?" some would ask.
They didn't know. Not like we knew. Ours were the best. The other nerds coweringly boasted that their bullies were the 'best in town'. The rest of us looked at them like - WHAAAT?! Uh-uh, girlfriend! To look at those Neanderthals was like looking into madness. Our bullies were magnificent. Fierce. Tough. Sane. Definitely sane, yeah... sane...

And now, as I read the words I'm writing on the page, recollecting, I'm wondering, WHAT THE FUCK AM I WRITING HERE?!
03/10 Direct Link

4:52am


The alarm will be going off soon. I can't take any more. I can't take that alarm. That commute. That job. That fucking job. I hate it with everything that's in me. The looks from everyone. The stares. The comments. The fucking incessant questions: fancy a cup of tea - wanna polo - you doing anything later? I fucking hate them all. I know what they really want to ask me, but none of them have the balls. Of course they haven't. They're women. Women don't have balls. They have cunts. They're all cunts. Why am I the only straight woman?!
03/11 Direct Link
So, some snotty little fucker said I'd shown I was 'too stubborn to change my mind'.

I wouldn't mind, but we hardly know each other. If we were friends, I could see that she was saying it affectionately, but she has a distinct lack of a sense of humour. Added to this, she's 20 and she acts like an Alpha female. That's never good. They have the tendency to be both opinionated and confident that you won't give them a slap if they get in your personal space.

I hate being a bloke.

Glad I'm not a feminist though... Chris ;)
03/12 Direct Link
I have ginger hair. My friends call me a red head. It was only recently that I discovered that's because the colour 'orange' hasn't been around that long. I mean, of course the colour has been around, but it didn't have a name. It's also why the Robin Red Breast is called the- so, I was sat at a bus stop and these yoovs walked by and saw me. One of them called me a carrot top. One said she bet I smelled like piss. Another said I made him feel like puking.
This is my life. It's hard.
03/13 Direct Link
After achieving equality (and a little bit more), the Muslimists decided to keep their movement going to continue to strive for 'equality'. Some Muslimists hated other religions and demographics because of the past, but these were not 'true' Muslimists. Many people said that the word 'Muslim' inferred bias and many people within the movement would welcome this whilst still claiming to fight for equality. All those who thought the movement was bullshit based on repeated and consistent evidence to show many Muslimists actively showed disdain for those who questioned the efficacy of a prejudiced nomenclature were derided as just 'stubborn',
03/14 Direct Link

If you could assign a flavour to an emotional state, it would be lemon. Not lemon juice, or lemon Fanta, or lemon cheesecake - pure. lemon. Direct from the segment. The sharpness, is caustic. It burns. It grabs hold of the tendons inside your face and pulls, like a Quaker pulling a rope to raise the side of a barn.

Her name was even lemon-like. Melanie…

(lemony)

She didn’t do it to my face, by the way. It was by Twitter. Twitter! She tweeted Katie Price. Fucking Jordan. ‘How do I tell my boyfriend- blah blah blah…’

Price didn’t respond.

03/15 Direct Link
They attacked me. No provocation.

My phone is wrecked. Smashed into pieces.

They pulled off my jeans. They set fire to my jeans. They laughed as they did it, then made fun of my underwear. One of them... (molested me). He - while the others held my arms, he, you know, my boxers... down... and he said- he made fun of me.

I didn't do nothing to deserve it.

They had a problem with my jeans. Low riders.

No, I wasn't talking that loud. Yeah, it was a bus, but it was my phone, you know. I was just talking, yeah.
03/16 Direct Link
Burning

I pounded hard against the glass.
They couldn't hear, so I pounded some more.
I pounded hard till my hand swelled
And the void in my veins
And the pain of the pain
Inside my head became my joy.

I screamed. I screamed until the joy in my head
Was engulfed by the rhythm of my fist
On the door and I screamed some more.
I could endure it no more,
So I pounded it more

And more until I cried and I fell to the floor
And cried.
And on the inside my family burned.
They burned inside.
They burned
And I died.
03/17 Direct Link
Paradigm. It's a word that doesn't really mean anything that you can lay your hands on. You can't grab ahold of it and say, "Paradigm - to stroke a rabbit until it makes a high pitched squealing sound." No. Paradigm means something else. The only thing you DO know about the word paradigm is that when you hear it being used, the person using it, probably doesn't know what it means.
Feminism is another such word. Whenever anyone tries to convince you it means something good, the next person will come along, take offence, and contradict the fuck out of them.
03/18 Direct Link
"Summon the ghoul." ordered Smith.
"The ghoul. Yes, ma'am." Bonds sloped a few steps towards the gate before turning. "Should I unshackle the gh-"
"DON'T UNSHACKLE THE GHOUL." Smith smiled. "It will tear you into tiny bits."
"Tiny bits. Yes, ma'am."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Yes, ma'am."

It was half an hour before Bonds returned, bloodied, exhausted and stifling tears.
Smith stare ahead soberly. "You unshackled it. Didn't you?"
"I couldn't remember your words, ma'am. I... tried to remember. I thinked." Bonds collapsed to the ground. "I could not remember."
"What happened?"
He broke down, distraught. "I am pregnant, I think, ma'am."
03/19 Direct Link
We lay on the dry grass and stared up at the stars. The ground was hard. You said it was 'busy'... is that what you called it? Or frigid? It meant we lay a little closer than we normally would and our arms touched. You said it felt nice, the warmth. I can't remember how you put it exactly, but you said it made you glow, or shine...? I can't remember. It was a woman thing. Why can't I remember? That's what I had you for - to remember things.
Our arms interlocked and for the first time, we held hands.
03/20 Direct Link
At a stipulated time before the idea of a celebration surrounded the idea of superiority, sacrifice and subservience, the idea of one singular existence furnished another idea of singular existence with the idea of objects required to gain access to a collaborative performance.
There was an audio exchange about pretense and persuasion. Egotism can be a negative or positive state.
There was gratification from a receiving concept of actuality, which was unaffected by the concept of greed.
Nothing was real though. They were intangible cognitions from this unknown source which creates all that is known, or may ever have been.
03/21 Direct Link
"No!" Fran knew this was the end. She could never forgive her for what she'd done. A moment earlier, she'd been sipping lardy-da Martini if you please. Now, it was as if Moses had just paid a visit with his crooked staff.
(it was dry like her seas had been parted, is what I mean)
"We can still sleep together, babe." Suggested Kara.
Fran took a moment to acknowledge Kara's words before finally giving in to a smile. She knew, deep inside, there was still a chance.
The End.

You have talent, Barker, but as always - NO! SEE ME!
03/22 Direct Link

The Muppet.

I deserved it for sure,
But as the bruises grew,
I grew confused.

I was angry.
It wouldn't let you hear my words
That voice in your head
That told you to Kill me
Twice. Once with a wedding gift.

A fist became a foot
And a foot became that knife,
but that wasn't all
Because the blood
Needed a life

And I was scared.
You scared me and that wasn't right.
I shouldn't be scared;

I was Your man.

Not a real man, but a fool of a man.
Not an actual man, he's that man far away.

 

03/23 Direct Link
This is so peculiar. So peculiar. She really has become a dog. And all I did was- is it really because-
Let's not jump to conclusions. Okay, let's go through this: when are the times when human beings turn into dogs...?
Well, there's... erm... let's see... erm...
No. I can't think of any off-hand.
Okay, so I said, 'Mum! You're an actual bitch... literally'.
So weird. And yesterday when I told Jimmy to disappear, I never saw him again.
Hmm... Who next? Lilly Tilly! What to do...? I want you to... laugh your head off. Haha, yeah. Where's my phone...?
03/24 Direct Link
"Hello, Line One, hello, Line One, you're through to Up All Night- can I have your name please?"
"Yeah, my name's John."
"Hi, John. What can I do for you tonight?
"Yeah, I wanted to talk about swearing on call-in radio shows."
"..."
"Hello? You still there?"
"Go on..."
"Yeah, did you ever see Matt Bianco on Going Live in the eighties?"
"What point is it you want to make?"
"That's bad syntax there."
"What?"
"I said your syntax is bad - what point is it you want to make, you said."
"Yeah, what's your-"
"GO FUCK YOURSELF MOTHERFUCK-"
"Next caller..."
03/25 Direct Link
I was in the doctor's - probably for depression, or piles or (what's more embarrassing than depression or piles...) asthma - and I said, "Is there anything you can do about it?" and now paraphrasing: "Please help me. Please tell me there is a cure that's been invented since last I was here."

He grumbled a 'give me strength' under his breath and reached for something, "mmmmmm-physician, heal thyself." He relaxed back into his chair. He was pleased with his truncated chestnut. Job done.

But I lit up. I knew that one! "Luke 4:23." I smiled.

He looked vacantly confused.
03/26 Direct Link
The indifferent weed that grew up between the crack in the pavestone was different from any I'd seen before. There was chlorophyll green, sunflower yellow and rows of silver thorns that reminded me of the piercings on a twenty-first century teenager's face. Did you know that lads pierce their tongues now? Not gay lads. Straight lads. What the fuck is that all about? Originally the dumb bastards who punctured their bodies said 'the piercing on a girl's tongue aids fellatio'. Fuck off, will you. Don't talk bollocks. See, now I've totally forgotten what I was gonna say about the weed.
03/27 Direct Link
I don't know what to write about. Whenever I feel this way I always think, well, that's it. It's over. I'm never going to be able to write another interesting story ever again. And the truth is, I've never written a story that was good enough to sell.
The problem with this modern age - THIS particular modern age as opposed to every age that's gone before that thought of themselves as modern - is that we have access to a huge amount of information, some that we don't want. Concepts such as 'writer's block'.

Knowledge is pain and ignorance is bliss.
03/28 Direct Link
"This bread is lovely."

"This isn't working."

Malcolm was silent momentarily. He tried to process the words Sally had incongruously thrown out. "What isn't?"

Sally shifted in her chair, positioning herself away from him, just a little, but it was noticeable under the circumstances.

Malcolm searched for clarity. "Do you mean... what do you mean?"

Sally expression was impenetrably fixed. "Us."

Again, more weight. A sledgehammer impact.

'Us'? What does she mean: 'us'? Please don't say that.

"What do you mean?"

A flock of birds shot into the air in the distance.

"You know." Sally rose. "I have to go..."
03/29 Direct Link
The five men watched her, each face carrying a different intent.

Despite her attempts to avert her gaze, Jessica had noticed that one of them had an ear missing. Another had terrible burns to his left cheek that encroached upon an empty eye socket. A third man had a permanent smile, a front tooth missing amongst its oversized playmates.

The final two were most disturbing. One was masturbating. The metronome was already pounding when she'd regained consciousness fifteen minutes earlier.

Number five though... he had a knife. A serrated knife.

Her heart raced.

In the next room, the screaming began.
03/30 Direct Link
It's the moment of the reveal. The protagonists - the group of two men and one woman - are captured. Their sidekick helpy-helper was incapacitated and his nerdy 'computers' are destroyed. Smashed, if you will.
The door opens and of course we see the feet. High heels, maybe. Maybe a nice pair of expensive male shoes. Clarksies or something. Maybe.
"You!" Their expressions add to the feeling of double-cross and subversion.
"Yes. It is indeed, 'I'." Is it a woman, or is it a man? It's a woman. She has one of those voicebox things. Like Mission Impossible or something.
03/31 Direct Link
It's one of the greatest backsides I've ever seen. Very nice in anything tight. Lovely pair of thighs and breasts. Gymnastic flexibility. Extremely photogenic.

The problem is she knows it.

She's lazy. If she can get away with it, she'll do no preparation or rehearsal, then, when you put ideas forward to her, she'll say, "I'm just not feeling it."

'Just not feeling it'? We're in front of the director in five minutes.

Later, she congratulates me for getting us through it.

She congratulated me another time for a great script.

I 'Friend' requested her... that was a week ago.