the typing monkeys are broken!

it was the best of times, it was the blurst of times...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 7

...too busy playing pick up sticks with the ageing secretary, not just any version of pick up sticks either - this was the limited edition version where the sticks were made from the tie dyed quills of deceased echidnas. But that was then and this was now and Otto read with interest the strange message scratched in the "sand" that he suddenly saw at his feet. He looked around him, startled; searching for someone who may be watching. He had never seen this on any of his previous trips here and the scratches looked new. It read "maybe they forced a goat to sniff snuff and sneeze and the sneezing got the goat off?" What on in blue blazing blazers brought from Brashes did that mean thought Otto! The thought that there was a message scratched into a beach of polished rocks didn't seem to occur to him at all and he sat heavily on the large, smooth rocks (which had been painted to look like sand) and stared off into the distance, his fingers absent-mindedly tracing the strange words and his toes dipping into the cold sour milk that had been dyed a strange and horrid looking murky green grey colour in order to look like the sea at a typical English beach. He was deep in thought analysing the alliteration when Helen appeared to hover over the polished rocks. Her purple polka dot socks poking out of her green jelly sandals hypnotising Otto and sending him...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 6

...roll up a superman comic to stick behind her head to cushion the enthusiastic bumping against the sticky wooden floor. She kept glimpsing herself in the shattered mirror and pretending that she had just won the Nobel Prize for entomology and was enjoying the robust attentions of the highest scientific minds in a plush hotel room in Geneva. It was when she flitted about amongst these fanciful dreams that she would think back to all those times her mother had told her about the birds and the bees and she would have a slight nagging feeling that somehow she had confused something along the way about which bees she was meant to be studying, especially as she had found herself a frequent visitor of her many and varied lecturers many and varied offices and at many and varied out of office hours and in many and varied inappropriate outfits. She smiled a wicked and content smile at these thoughts and this was enough to finish the Geek off as he squealed the words "mura fisahr!!", a Vulcan phrase meaning: "drop your phaser!" which were the first words that popped to his head and of which Agnes understood not a word but it made her feel like she should be dropping some sort of phaser, which was a rather odd sensation, she thought. As Agnes contemplated the oddities of her own private thoughts the Geek collapsed, utterly spent like a tube of toothpaste that just cannot be squeezed any further, onto her and finally allowed us to take a break from their awkward writhing and stilted intimacy and skip to another part of town to join the Geeks father and his giant labradoodle called Helen. Helen and The Geek's father (for the ease of the writer and the reader, let's call him Otto, shall we? For even though that is not his real name, we should endeavour to protect his privacy for the intimate details we are yet to reveal about him may embarrass and distress him. So Otto it is for now, and to continue:) Helen and Otto were frolicking on the beach, and while this may sound lovely, it was not. The beach was not an idyllic beach but a perfect example of those horrid English beaches where rocks polished by an age of being licked by the waves replace sand and where it was constantly gloomy, miserable and wet in a way that beaches shouldn't be wet. What made this even odder, was that the beach was not in England (nor Wales for that matter!), but in the middle of the Australian bush. It was in fact a movie set; old, mouldering and deserted by a group of idealistic young film makers who had the magnificent idea of making an English period drama in the harsh Australian climate, ploughed all of their life savings and the last scrap of their creative enthusiasm into the project before admitting defeat and turning away to drink themselves into a sorrowful mess.

The movie set was a favourite place for Otto to come to as it managed to remind him of not just his young carefree days in England where he had wooed and seduced the Geek's and Gladys' mother Robert, as well as the early happy days with the two kids before they became the blood sucking life draining wretches they had turned into, but mostly because it reminded him of the joys he had found in the arms of his ageing secretary two days before at that same deserted movie set beach. Helen barked like a dog that had smoked 10 packs of cigarettes a day since her puppy days as she sniffed a drying dog poo left by herself two days before as she watched her master and the bony secretary doing strange things together on the ground. They had intrigued and disgusted her and the turd was her way of expressing that to Otto. Not that he had noticed, of course. He was...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 5

...in a daze as he lay there panting and delirious with happiness in Agnes’ arms. The experience had been awkward, brief but so exhilaratingly wonderful that he felt strangely like the time he had had the asthma attack at the panda enclosure at the zoo. One part light headedness, one part shortness of breath and 3 strange parts of dampness in various parts of his body. But unlike the zoo experience, he didn't feel embarrassed. Now he felt like an Elphin warrior from one of those ridiculously brilliant fantasy books that he bought for $2 at used furniture shops where he often wondered why they sold books. These thoughts tired him out though and he grasped one last leeringly happy look at Agnes then proceeded to re-enact the last 15 minutes of his life, but this time concentrating more on what had actually taken place and less on high fiving himself in the discarded mirror that lay against the wall of the hallway. Agnes meanwhile had decided to...

Dog(s are the best) People

"yeah the border collie club (pause) you know, dog people"

i heard the above snippet of a conversation at work today and immediately thought of the guy in the pictures below.

his name was Fedor Jeftichew (Russian: Фёдор Евтищев) and he was made to perform in "carnivals" in the late 1800's under the name Jo-Jo The Dog Faced Boy (and later Jo-Jo The Dog Faced Man). it's a shame that he didn't survive until the year 2011 when people such as himself have apparently managed to organise clubs, where one presumes they lobby against being made to perform for "carnivals".

despite his untimely death in 1904 you can follow Fedor at twitter where i'm sure he'd be happy to respond to any queries you may have on dog people, Don Bradman or the escalating drug cartel crisis in Mexico.

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 4

...the splat of the fish his sister had hurled at their writhing figures in shear desperation and disgust upon stumbling upon their shenanigans. The Geek's sister, Gladys, wound up again and was stopped by a sturdy hand grabbing her wrist. Agnes’ tight grip pulled her down and Gladys grunted as the fish was crammed into her mouth by a giggling Geek and she was shoved out the door. She stood there, wide eyed and astonished before she burst into tears and ran like a hobbled baby calf to her pole room where the thought of tiring herself out with hours of awkward rehearsal somehow cheered her up. Meanwhile, amongst the scattered Commodore 64's, pooling blood and cold coffee, our protagonist the Geek was...

When geeks land in bad fiction on Friday Arvo's - part 3

...passed out into a world as black and empty as a laptop that hadn't been recharged in time. Agnes, in a daze, mopped the blood from her face with her poly-blend shirt with one hand and, seeing the opportunity, took advantage of the situation and stepped inside the Geek’s room. She had never seen the inside before; just the closed door that seemed to emit an electronic hum, like it was alive and waiting. She always felt she was being watched by the room. It gave her the creeps. But it had always intrigued her. What did he do in there? She gave a sideways glance at the Geek, who lay there motionless; his skinny chest rising and falling gently and his pallid skin glowing eerily in the blinking lights and the erratic flashes of lightning, walked straight towards the empty desk and smiled to herself a wicked twisted smile. She had gotten rid of the Geek's macbook pro and her one competitor for his attention and love. Now he was all hers and all she needed to do was wake him up. She knelt beside him, took a deep breath and, trembling with excitement and anticipation, she kissed him on the lips. Nothing happened. She tried again. Still nothing. She slapped him lightly on one cheek, then the other and then harder and then harder again. Nothing! Sighing, she sat back on her heels, her ample flesh spilling around her like an overstuffed bean bag, and thought about how on earth she could revive him. Like an apple falling on Newton's head the idea came to her in a moment of pure inspiration and she raced back into the Geek's room and picked up two cups of the tepid coffee the Geek had left. She emptied the contents across his face and for good measure dropped the cups onto his head, much like the before mentioned apple on Newton's scone. The Geek awoke with a start and to his embarrassment started sobbing. He sobbed with the deep chest-wracking heaves of a 5 year old; snot bubbling from his nose like a snail who has been sprinkled with salt, and bottom lip sucking in against his teeth and a single strand of drool swinging slowly down in a silvery line, coming to nestle in a damp pool on his shirt. Suddenly, he sat up, but was knocked straight back down with the ease of pushing over a drunk baby giraffe as Agnes leapt upon his frail frame. The Geek, too stunned to react, acquiesced to Agnes' tongue as it pushed its way deep into his mouth past the silent metal sentries glued to his teeth. The blood from Agnes' wound mixed with the coffee still dripping from the Geeks face as his dreams were all realised at once. This was it! The taste of salt, blood, tears, snot and stale coffee filled his mouth and nose and the soft flesh on top of him, his hands flailing like dying fish beside him. His ears were so full of the sound of his quickly beating heart that he almost didn’t hear...