Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
Scene - At the park’s periphery, a middle-aged man and his dog engage on a frenetic walk. The pair circumnavigate tree trunks with the nimbleness of a Lionel Messi dribble, a waltzing skillset of Anton du Beke, along with the collision avoidance wherewithal of fighter pilot Brad Bootavich. Cause of this improvised dance routine was... Continue Reading →
I’ve an unerring urge to use the word expedient within today’s narrative. My motive not to rage bait the Never Use Expedient In Prose Association (NUEPA), although to be honest, if that had been the reason, those stuffy bastards have had it coming for a while! My decision to utilise the noun (or adjective depending... Continue Reading →
Today sees another small step in my ongoing penmanship rehab. A further attempt to reinvigorate a passion for writing which has largely forsaken me since last December. A devotion waning in December 2025, after succumbed to a wave of self-doubt about my art; consequently becoming overwhelmed by lethargy and low-spirits. A malaise I’ve now resolved... Continue Reading →
As highlighted in my blog The Beagle With The Seagull, I recently re-homed a beagle hound. Six weeks of providing shelter, poop picking, feeding, and walking the capricious hound have taught me a valuable lesson… I should have rehomed a budgie!... Only kidding, I would not swap Bella for the world. Unless of course the... Continue Reading →
A few weeks back, some sixty-six million years after dinosaurs became extinct and slightly before yours truly commenced penning this narrative, I rehomed a dog. The hound in question a four your old beagle who, for the purposes of the narrative (and because it’s her name), I shall call Bella. With details of the rehoming... Continue Reading →
Last Thursday, endeavouring to address a recent indifference towards and break from writing, I participated in a writers 'Open Mic' evening in Harrogate. This clambake afforded eleven fellow authors and myself opportunity to showcase our literary wares. The event offering its audience a tempting mix of poetry, thought provoking and irreverent fiction, along with comedic... Continue Reading →
Another day, another bunch of dollars knocked off my share portfolio value thanks to the intellectually challenged folks across the pond who voted Trump in as president. Are you Republican supporters tired of all the winning yet?! I find it sad the financial plight of so many non-Americans is impacted by millions of dipshits who... Continue Reading →
Two weeks into the Trump presidency and it’s all kicking off stateside. The Shitkicker King taking little time to become schoolground bully, attempting to steal Canada, Greenland, and Panama’s lunch money. As a non-American I’d love to watch these scenes across the pond with indifference. Let the red necks, 30-year-old virgins, gun freaks, and ill-educated... Continue Reading →
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 →