da wedding day

The sun glistened in between the gaps of the closed curtains and flickered across his closed eye lids. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned. His head throbbed, it is too easy now to change that tap water into a decent Merlot.

Pulling back the covers he climbed out of bed; only in his jocks he stumbled across the room and with one sweep he pulled back the curtains. 'Oh shit! I shouldn't have done that' crossed his mind as a wall of sound 'Pappa! Pappa!' vibrated through his head.

'Oh for fuck's sake, I forgot I am Pope now' he screamed as he dived behind the open curtain

Happy Birthday Fillius

'Na.....N.....ee.......p!' Fillius Fogg screamed rushing into the bathroom. 'Hi! there sexy guy' he said looking deep into his own reflection in the mirror. He paused, posed, turned to the left, turned to the right, smiled 'Wow! You are one sexy guy!'

aa

The image paused for a moment before sighing 'Hi there sexy guy too!

'Neep! Whats up? You sexy image of myself, you look sad!' Fillius asked alarmed

The image leaned forward and whispered 'Do you know what day, today is?'

'Shucks silly, course I do. It's Sunday'

The image started to sniff, his bottom lip quivering 'But it's dat Sunday! The one we don't want!'

'ARrrrrrrrrrr.......ghhhhhhh! NEeee.......p!!!! Nooooooooo' Fillius screamed suddenly realising the significance.

The image looked solemn, tears streaming down his face 'We are in our fortieth year...................the BIG FOUR OOOHHHH!!!'

'I'm so sad' Fillius sobbed 'So old! So woman-less!'

The image nodded in agreement 'We are so sad, so old and so......... hang on! Lets do the song! That will brighten us up! Get your guitar and hat and we'll do the song!

Fillius brightened immediately 'Neep! Yes! Lets do the song!!!!!'

A pint of the dark stuff

I woke one night recently while having a pint of the black stuff to find that the Oak had lost nothing of it's bleakness. Usually I prefer to stay comatose throughout the full extent of my visits, finding it difficult to cope with bleary excitement the establishment creates. The question my previous remarks may generate in your mind, that is; why do I keep going back, if the place is so bleak?

Well, a number of years ago at a party I met and had a conversation with a man of Indian persuasion, know amongst his friends as 'The Buddha of Suburbia' and who spoke in riddles.

'My friend' he said looking at me intensely 'I don't think you have found yourself yet'.

At the time I didn't realise I was supposed to be looking, anyway he lifted my eyelids and looked deeply into my eyes 'Mmm...do you suffer from manic depression?' he asked. A question I have not asked myself repeatedly, life is too miserable, dark, depressing to ask such prolific questions and assume one may get the answers one wants to hear.