Comedy writer and also write serious stuff from the heart when I'm in the mood. Without humour life has no real balance and we take ourselves too seriously. I use humour as armour against the slings and arrows of outrageous circumstance. ;-)
Mary was late for work but needed to put the washing in. Dashing to her son’s bedroom to retrieve his soiled clothes, she flung open the door. 'Oh, my God!' She recoiled, crimson faced!’ 'I was just cleaning it, mummy, and it went off by accident. I wasn’t masturbating, honestly.'
Gotta take a piss, Bluey.’ ‘Mind how you go, Bruce.’ Piddling into a bush, Bruce screams ‘my cock’s been snakebit, Bluey.’ Bluey takes a peep, ‘it looks bad, mate.’ ‘If the poison ain’t sucked out immediately, I’ll die, Bluey.’ ‘You’ve been a great mate, Bruce, I’m sure gonna miss ya.’
Valentine’s day twelve months ago her Mum died. Entering, Mary called ‘Hi, Dad, it’s me’ then she gasped. He was sitting at the table; across, an empty place was set with a red rose. ‘Oh, daddy, you sweet romantic soul!’ She sobbed, kissed his cooling forehead and closed his eyes.
If you gave me six inches I wouldn't be sad Though it’s not the biggest I've ever had If you offered me seven I’d be in heaven Eight, nine even ten I've managed but then I tried a twelve incher, oh never again It stuck in my throat though I sucked it and blew My mouth was wedged open and so I withdrew My gobbling technique I have to refine And I will, I promise, just wait 'til next time I got runner up and most were impressed Good for a novice at the sausage eating contest. (Well what did you think I was talking about?)
We sacrificed everything for you, Andrew, the private education we struggled to afford, then off to University carrying our love and hopes for your future. Then you got into drugs. All our hopes for you destroyed.” I turned away, bitter tears flowing. The man put the lid back over him.
Minerva was almost home when she was violently snatched. The man got out of the car a couple of yards in front of her. ‘Excuse me, lady, I’m lost, can you help me, please?’ His smile was broad, his accent American, his pungent aftershave expensive. ‘This darned budget rental doesn’t have satellite navigation.’ He waved ruefully at the vehicle. It was dark, and Minerva was nervous, the leafy trees stopped most of the streetlight from reaching the pavement. Weary after her long evening shift at the hospital, she just wanted a bath and her bed. She stopped in front of the well-dressed...
Have you noticed that there's a' spare uncle' in almost every group photo of a sixties or seventies wedding? He is the little man on the end, grinning inanely into the camera. His jacket cuffs overhang his knuckles and his wrinkled trousers sag over his down-at-heel shoes. A nylon shirt with a fly-away collar and an ill-matched tie usually completes this ensemble. The other guests avoid him like the plague. There’s every chance this epitome of sartorial inelegance was my late Uncle Eddie, bus driver and weekend wedding crasher. Eddie, a...
“I will not tolerate violence” roared our headmaster, thumping his desk. Billy and me got six strokes of the cane. “So much for non-violence” I muttered. I got two more. Billy and I had fought over Molly Molloy; she rejected us both. 'Boys who fight are stupid,' she said.