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. 

The Kitchen

A short story

Last night, as I was lying in bed, I heard a loud, clanking sound coming from inside the kitchen. So I got up to check it out. I thought, best-case scenario there would be a masked teenager in there for me to stab. So I was particularly disappointed to find it was just my possessed kitchen appliances engaging in some sort of ethical quarrel. “Bla bla bla, Kettle...Bla bla bla, Black Pot”, they screeched at me, as if I cared. But I didn’t. So they both turned on me, scalding me head to toe with boiling hot water. Leaving my mutilated, husk of a body on the tiles, seriously stoked for the next council clean-up.

The Old Lady

A fucking short story


A while ago, I noticed a little old lady sitting in a stairwell. She didn't bother anyone necessarily. She'd just sit there, basking in her pained-expression... caressing her dirty left foot... flicking various unwanted toe-crack related materials onto the ground. Obviously we never spoke. I would just climb over her, clutching my belongings, staring intensely at some ambiguous point ahead. Till one day she strategically placed her slipper on the stair, so that I fell, and ruptured several crucial tendons in my ankles, rendering me completely immobile and disgustingly desperate. These days we chill-out on the stairs together, massaging each others feet and screeching harmoniously at passers-by...completely content in our gauntlet of judgement.

Ostrich Seriously Sick of Sticking Own Head in Sand

That's it. If I ever find the bogan that started this trend, I'm going to fly-kick him in the trachea. I don't even know why I do it anymore. Every time I slot my noggin beneath the earth's filth-ridden crust, I hope to God something new and interesting will materialise. Here, let me just...nup, see, just the same old fucking beige, fragmented silica. Have you ever voluntarily dumped a bucket-load of gritty sand in your eyeballs? If I had hands, I'd probably just scrape it out and get over it...or cut myself and call it a night. The point is, if you're responsible for this monstrosity... you now know what I look like. Let's fight motherfucker. I'll be beside this body of water. Waiting.  

Retro Word of the Day

Jerk: (n.) A foolish, rude, or contemptible person.


"I cannot believe you spat on my toothbrush, you fucking jerk".

Commuter Waits Silently For Racist Taxi Driver to Get a Grip

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 Illustrator

Absorbed in a less then picturesque Derwent-coloured hell...I begrudgingly attempted to sketch yet another train scene. Making windows appear 'less square' and bellies 'less toned', with the less than adequate materials provided and a deadline of two-thirds-of-fuck-all. "MUSH", they would say. "Draw faster! Draw better! Include those seventy three wrinkles on her hand!" Distressed in reception, I dreamt of scenarios such as sling-shotting a musty leather-bound textbook entitled "Exploitation 101" at their cashed-up craniums, or perhaps hosting a sing-a-long to "Let the boat people in, they draw good for cheap".