Tongue in cheek autobiographical blurb I incorporated on the back cover of a selection of my self-published books………
Tag: random
Green Shoots
It’s been a productive week for yours truly. Seven days where I’ve indulged in a far physically and mentally healthier lifestyle, including three gym visits, a cathartic choir rehearsal and a much needed period of sobriety. A lifestyle adjustment meaning, if I could desist from unhealthily munching so many bags or crisps, who knows this…
The Ghost of Procrastination Present
28th December – Today, after a scheduled visit to chez Strachan, I’ve had an opportunity of providing my daughter Rachel and her partner Brian their Christmas legacies. Festive tokens whose delivery, consequential of logistic issues, was deprived of me prior to and during yuletide. Small trinkets which are gestures of my love and affection towards…
Tonight Matthew I’m Gonna Be….
One of the largest challenges I face while quilling these daily journals is crafting gags for the more whimsical lexicological offerings. Predominantly written bereft of a sounding bound, I’m writing gags which’ve not been witnessed, approved or dismissed prior to, via writesaidfred.org, launching them unceremoniously onto the worldwide web. Without prior critical feedback seeds of…
Ostentatious Dining in WF3
In the absence of my estranged wife, I’m back residing at my marital home for a few nights. Circumstances, though, that didn’t stop me lunching at my mother’s abode today; my company the brood’s matriarch, my son Jonathon and his affianced Jenny. This family feast not just any old lunch, moreover the culinary banquet a M&S…
Bloom & Grow Forever
With Christmas Day hurtling towards us with the speed of a linen basket escaping a pair of The Grinch’s three week worn underpants, I’m concerned to be still awaiting delivery of half the festive gifts I purchased online in the middle of November…… In hindsight, perhaps it was misguided to order my daughter Rachel a…
Trouble in Lapland?
Door sixteen of the advent calendar sits ajar. Consequently, Santa’s only eight days left to bark out further motivational banter to his reindeer ‘army’, prior to their gruelling twenty four hour shift dragging fat arse and his gift laden chariot around the globe. In preparation for an arduous night on the 24th December, Dasher, Dancer,…
Super Stormtrooper Beams Are Gonna Blind Me
I’ve been slightly delayed in penning this essay. A self-inflicted inconvenience consequential of me, on taking my seat at the coffee shop which’s become my habitual lieu l’ectriture, misguidedly carrying out a system update on my laptop. This action rendering me unable to use my device for twenty minutes, resulting in a frustrating time during…
Festive Soap On A Rope
Door number five on the advent calendar opened effortlessly this morning. A small tug of the sticky tape applied by pilferer of its former confectionery contents (who’ll remain nameless) relinquishing the cardboard door from it’s union with the calendars façade. With aspirations of elevating Christmas cheer levels in the Thirsk cottage I’m sharing with a group…