The Lucky Charm

A couple of months ago I was walking through Circular Quay with a really good friend of mine. Incredibly hung over, with the brain capacity of a half-chewed Mango pip, we endeavoured to peruse the street markets, because, really, touching things, and looking at them with our eyeballs was about all we were good for that day. Strolling through the stalls, I saw what seemed to be a shop that sold lucky charms. Various animal parts, fluffy bits and bones were strewn across tables and suspended from the roof. Having never seen a rabbit’s tail or anything like that before, I excitedly made my way over to touch it for optimal luck. This will definitely perk me up, I thought, as I reached out to touch the rabbit’s tail, until, oh, no, it was rock hard, and swung around the reveal a tag saying ‘Roo Scrotum’. Let this be a lesson to you: in life, you can never un-touch a ball sack. Not ever. 

The Fairy Tail

Fairy Tail was just a baby tail with no actual body attached.  Whenever she’d go out to the bar for some drinks, her friends would be like ‘hey, F-Tizzle, let’s get CRUNK’. But she really couldn’t drink that much because her tail would only soak up so much alcohol before it just dripped, dripped, dripped off again. Sometimes she’d get embarrassed about all the puddles she’d leave behind, but most of the time she’d just think, hey, I don’t have a heart or a fully functioning brain so what the fuck do I care?

The Smudge

A non-story


Today it's kind of mysteriously dark outside, and people are everywhere I want to be. Which means I have to move. Because two's almost a crowd, and crowds are distracting. So now I am on the couch, people-ended, like a really claustrophobic book. I should be doing things. But the air conditioning is blasting in my face like it wants to burn it off. Work-related; I am thinking about what it's like for a deaf, blind, nerve-ending(less) person to experience travel. Sub-thought; they wouldn't get claustrophobic or feel bothered by aggressive air conditioning. Probably.

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. 

Retro Word of the Day

Festy: (a.) Bad, disgusting, undesirable, revolting. Backconstruction from verb "fester".




"MAN, your eyebrow acne is festy"

The Tooth Fairy

A short story


One tantalisingly cold night, I awoke from my sleep, only to find the Tooth Fairy digging her petrified, thousand year old, unkempt claws into my gums. "WAUGH DA FAULLK", I exclaimed, as she jammed my mouth open with a jack...frequently chuckling and stabbing me up the nostril with the tip of her magical, theft-driven wing. Disorientated and slightly brain damaged, I commando rolled off my bed, in search of a housemate, a robust man, or an exceedingly ugly pet. To my dismay, the Tooth Fairy was already ten flaps ahead of me...hovering at the end of the hall, licking her fangs and swinging my severed, nerve-endings around the top of her head, like a lasso. "I GERKVV UP", I said, choking on the ramifications. And with that, she just made a high pitch buzzing sound...pegged an obligatory, glittered dollar at my temple, and flew away. Which obviously made it all worthwhile. So I returned back to bed, clutching my dollar, and fell asleep in a blood-stained, linen sea...totally and utterly satisfied. 

Good friends, Pterodactyls, dreams coming true.

Recently, a good friend of mine said if she could be anything, it'd be a pterodactyl...so she could soar through the sky, and poop all over everyone below. I thought this was pretty funny, personally.

Filed under:  Pterodactyls:     true story:     her decision is both crazy and completely rational:         wiggidy-whack:      why don't these tags work

Retro Word of the Day

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


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

The Cat

A fucking short story


Once upon a time there was a cat who was locked indoors all day. My sister was like "Bobbeeeeey, come here and watch this scary movie with me", but the cat was like "OMG, that shit is lame". So my sister pulled rank and made him. At first the cat just sat there, psychotically staring into the distance, wide eyed and hissing... till my sister screamed "Seriously Bobby, shut the fuck up, what's wrong with you"? So I wasn't particularly surprised when the cat flipped out and called upon his ghost friends to teach her a lesson. Just then a family of floating white sheets came down the stairs, making eerie 'woooooooooooooooooooooooo' sounds. Then they just stood there and hovered all ghost-like. But it was a fucking short story, with barely an ending, so that was it.

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.

The Make-Up Bag

Dear Jessi-Cat,


I hear you've misplaced your silvery bagged mobile 'face'. Not to worry...you are definitely still remotely attractive. I can hardly notice those three black hairs protruding from your left nostril mole... or your ordinarily cleverly camouflaged eyebrow acne. And before you ask, I was most certainly not flicking coins at your big black circles, whispering secret wishes, then flinging myself over the office dividing wall. Anyhow, guess I'll just keep checking the 'Lost Property' box at reception for you. 


P.S.
There is no Lost Property box at reception. 


Sincerely, Not A Friendly Friend.

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.

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".