The Man Toddler

He is significantly younger than you. And you think this is great. With his tiny-baby enthusiasm, and his tiny-baby good looks. Ergh, he is so cute, you want to violently shove him into a meat grinder. But you can't. Because that is illegal. So you will continue to pick him up from school, or his mum's house, or the Teletubbie Convention, and gently wipe the gunk out of the corner of his eye. Because that is what you signed up for, Older Craddle Snatchy Woman. 

The Old Man

A Short Story

Yesterday, I awoke in a drunken haze to find a creepy old man lying on top of me, dripping his toupee adhesive onto my left cheek. Trapped under this bulging, bolder of pedophilia, I began to spit and gurgle violently in his direction in the hopes that it might reach his hearing aid and electrocute him, or worst-case scenario, he’d just slip and fall-off. Seemingly aroused by my spurting fountain of disgust, he threw his tiny, de-formed, T-Rex hands up behind his head and let-out a loud “Yeeessssss”. But then he had a massive coronary and died. So I just called his wife and asked her to come and pick him up. 

Identifying a Sensitive New Age Troll

Some are self-explanatory.

Please braid my hair 

Some will wipe their sludge all over you, dare you try and escape.

Ragh?

Others will trap you in their labyrinth of fragility. Frequently throwing razor-blade parties and drafting suicide notes amidst a sea of bleeding, like-minded Sensitive New Age Troll pity-pals.

I want to violently weep on your chest when we make love, Lauren. 

Census Report Nation's Singles All Middle-Aged Souls

THIS CRUEL WORLD-- The 2011 Census, conducted nationwide a month ago, revealed that whilst both Australia's "old" and "young souls" were married, or in a serious relationship, middle-aged souls were all still single, boring, and basking in their despair.


Reincarnation Therapist, Dr. Caesar Pythagoras Morpheus said, "People naturally gravitate towards older souls. Their silent complexity is terribly hypnotic...like a fine wine you'd drink and pretend to understand. Young souls, on the other hand, attract mates with their radiating positivity. They're just like a walking anti-depressant...constantly smiling about retarded things like oozing jam and steaming compost heaps. Then we're left with the middle-aged souls who float somewhere in-between. Neither fun or wise. They basically possess all the personality of a badminton shuttlecock. Yeah, they don't even want to date each other. It's really quite sad".


Middle-aged soul, Simon, said something entirely too mediocre to take note of.


The Australian Government suggested middle-aged souls engage in risky behaviour, like running with scissors, to speed up the process.

Bromance Weekly

The Psychic

A short story

I visited a psychic this one time. She assured me I would fall deeply in love with an albino moon tanner from The Netherlands and we'd bare a tribe of drooling mini me' s. She also said he'd be incredibly destitute and totally intimated by my ambition... but not to worry 'cause my priorities will change and I'll be more than down to shack up in his corrugated box of unwavering love. We'd probably just lick each other clean or something... and listen in to the conversations of passers by, for entertainment.

Naturally, I've taken on her prediction as infallible and have adjusted my selection criteria accordingly.

The Fetish

A short story 

So it was your normal thursday night events... I was squatting over James' thorax defecating on him, as he wished. It was quite the spectacle... as it has been known that I seem to have contracted a rather severe case of the some-what taboo bacterial infection; gastrointestinal disruption. Having suffered from the yellow river squirts in its entirety for approximately seven days now, I began to regret having taken The All-Bran Challenge, due to a myriad of un-pleasant subsequent symptoms manifesting themselves in my rectal region. Having quite the self proclaimed budget minded father... seemingly being on a never-ending quest to snatch a barg; toilet tissue is purchased solely for its economic value... which in turn, to my detriment, has created chronic chafe and anal bleeding. Luckily for me, James is deeply in love with me (of course) and regularly proffesses his desire to "have all of me". As he became increasingly aroused he would attack my rear like there was a dollar up there and he were an Ethiopian child in need of a bamboo shoot or various witchetty grubs for necessary vitamins and minerals. Once we had finished our primitive sexual expression, I endeavoured to hit up his bathroom for some quality maintenance slash home medical attention. Resembling a morbidly obese duck with piles, I woddled across the floor and into the hall, only to bump into Yasmin's oaf Popeye like Jaw (his ex). Looking dishevelled and abnormally muscular, she threw herself on me like a fly to shit... I couldn't get rid of her...until her over-powering toxic perfume Eau da Stale Spinach caused temporary blurred vision and eventual suffocation. Lying on the floor un-conscious, exposing my newly acquired largish B-rack and vaginal stubble (complete with a selection of discoloured in-growns)...I slowly regained consciousness to find Popeye towering over me...un-impressed to say the least.   




Disclaimer: Most of the above did not happen on thursday night. 

The Himalayas

A short story

Yesterday, as I was getting ready to ski my way down the slope…(my eyes fixed on an ill-tempered, sabotage-driven squirrel, flinging pinecones from a nearby wheelbarrow directly into my path) I was taken by surprise when an unidentified white haired paw reached around from behind and gave me a nipple cripple. “What the fuck”, I exclaimed, quickly swivelling around. A large ape-like beast stood still in the snow. It was The Yeti!

Drooling and murmuring, but mostly drooling... The Yeti tugged at my nipple so hard, my eyes began to well. Now, I know what they say about assumptions, but I’m almost certain his massive erect Yeti sword meant he was down to hold hands and just be good friends.

So I farted in front of him to seal the deal. 

We remain loyal pen pals to this day.

That Dude

I used to date this dude named Frank. He was nice. Nice and weird. I knew this once he'd entered me and muttered "You've got no idea how long I've waited for this day". I was impaled VIA the groin by my very own stalker. Looking back, I don't know why we dated. Perhaps it was his soft hazel eyes that danced melodically over my skin. Perhaps it was his stature; tall and claiming. Or perhaps it was the premature balding patch that reflected moon beams directly into my retina... causing a temporary stimuli overload, episodic epilepsy, followed by a subsequent gap in time. 


Here's hoping.