In one of his trademark offbeat observations on the BBC TV gameshow ‘Would I Lie To You?”, likeable funny man Bob Mortimer claimed the distant memories he was about to recount were like “Fingerprints on an abandoned handrail.” This humorous, but idiosyncratic, observation describing how he only had vague memories of the absurd yarn he... Continue Reading →
Open Mic – Part Four
Yesterday evening I attended an Open Mic evening at a chic Harrogate eatery. To clarify, an Open Mic night isn't attending a event to be entertained by a candid fellow called Michael... Unless, of course, the amateur turn is a forthright chap called Michael... In which case, you are attending an Open Mic evening presented... Continue Reading →
Stone The Crows
Scene – In a supermarket parking lot, a middle-aged man ambles past a trolley shelter towards the stores entrance. The fella distracted by a game he’s playing on his mobile device; a challenge he’s recently become addicted to. Carelessly not looking ahead, he foolishly introduces the jeopardy of being mowed down by a vehicle (or... Continue Reading →
True or False Christmas Quiz – Part Two
Last week yours truly participated in an online Christmas quiz with buddies from Gateshead. My contribution to this entertaining clambake was a round of intentionally absurd 'True or False' questions. Fictional catechisms not to be taken seriously and written with an intention to raise a smile from my follow participants. Thankfully, I achieved my goal.... Continue Reading →
In The Eye of The Storm
It was a Saturday lunchtime. Two bearded men, both scarlet of face, both baring ready smiles stand outside a Wakefield charity shop. One man adorns a red suit/hat with white fur edging: his facial hair a similar albumen coloured hue. The other fella also standing adjacent to Santa’s outdoor grotto dons a khaki Superdry branded... Continue Reading →
The Tramp
I’ve not written much of late. For no apparent reason my mood has been low; draining any motivation to indulge in literary projects. Perversely, annoyance at myself for being in a low spirits for no reason has sent my mood even lower. It has got so bad, yesterday evening GJ Strachan had a word with... Continue Reading →
Suffering For My Art
A phalanx of baristas and customers seeking a caffeine hit surround me as I commence this missive. A south Leeds retail centre’s café affording me a domain to place my buttocks, rehydrate and stir whatever creative juice pool I can muster. After tweaking my back yesterday afternoon, this journaling accompanied by intermittent lumbar spasms. Stretching... Continue Reading →
The Picnic
Looking down, it felt like this working-class northern lad had arrived. His eyes drawn to a multicoloured hippy picnic blanket in front of him; the rug laden with a wonderful smorgasbord procured from a Fortnum & Mason festival stall. His partner belying her usual similar lack of culture by swooning at the champagne feast. Her... Continue Reading →
Keen On Keane
“If only I don't bend and break, I'll meet you on the other side, I'll meet you in the light. If only I don't suffocate, I'll meet you in the morning when you wake.” Thoughts and emotions I heard relayed last Friday evening. To clarify the above wasn’t delivered as a morbid goodnight message from my partner, Sarah. An audio... Continue Reading →