The E-Motion Potion

*Interesting choice of Song, Clicky… /pat snout… ‘Cos of what Frank wrote me last night in the Red universe? …/rolls up…*

Merovee Selfie with Frank and MJ 1Merovee Selfie with Frank and MJ 2Merovee Selfie with Frank and MJ 3

*/puts rollie to lips… Welcome to the Jung Gal? …/flicks lighter… Don’t. You’ll make me laugh… /lights up… and that’ll make me cough… /drags… and I don’t need the wee seepage right now, thank you very much… *

*Clicky! That’s Jeremy Irons singing… /taps ash… He’s in one the the double bill of movies Cade and I watched last night… /puffs… and what this post is supposed to be about… /rolls eyes… If I ever fuckin’ get round to start writing it…*

Dear Reader, I am on holiday now for the next two weeks. Underdog Anthology VI: The Gallows Stone – is due out for Halloween and I haven’t written anything for it yet…

Roob catches Legs up her evening 1Roob catches Legs up her evening 2

… Last night, instead of writing, I accepted Cade’s invitation to watch some movies. Well, I am on holiday 😉 We each picked a film that we’d really enjoyed watching, but that the other hadn’t seen. First up was Cade’s pick of ‘Moneyball’, ostensibly about baseball…

‘In the film, Beane (Brad Pitt) and assistant GM Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), faced with the franchise’s limited budget for players, build a team of undervalued talent by taking a sophisticated sabermetric approach towards scouting and analyzing players.’

*237 eh, Clicky? …/smokes… Kinda Shining…*

… Followed by my flick pick of ‘Margin Call’…

‘The principal story takes place over a 24-hour period at a large Wall Street investment bank during the initial stages of the financial crisis of 2007–08.In focus are the actions taken by a group of employees during the subsequent financial collapse.’

Both movies were released in 2011, and both movies were about the same things: interpretation of numbers, risk management and being first with a paradigm-shifting break through…

… Or breakout…

…And the logistics required to build something up, or to tear it down…

*Sullivan… /final drag… I spent 16 years as a PA to a Construction Logistician called Sullivan… /stubs butt… He definitely had some paradigm-shifting ideas… /streams smoke…*

I can highly recommend both movies, Dear Reader, especially if you have time to view them in one sitting. Tomorrow I shall start writing a story for the UAVI, but for tonight, Cade has recommended a horror film for us to watch. To help get me in the mood, so to speak…

*No, I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before either, Clicky… /pats snout… Now be a love and get something suitable to end with…*

I’ll be certain to let you know how the stories are coming along, but until then, Dear Reader… Have a Song 😀

Someday Girl

someday (adv.)

“at some indefinite date in the future,” 1768, from some + day.

MISS SOMEDAY.

Poor Charley wooed, but wooed in vain,

From Monday until Sunday;

Still Cupid whisper’d to the swain

“You’ll conquer Betsey Someday.”

[“The Port Folio,” June 1816]

*Hello, Clicky… /lights up… That’s a good quality vid… /drags… Who uploaded it?*

MadFranko008 posts Blondie Sunday Girl on YT

*Figures… /rolls eyes…*

Good afternoon, Dear Reader. Yesterday I received a care package from my friends Legs and Poppy. Fortunately, I knew it was coming…

Leggy tweets Roob about a mystery gift

So one parcel, Dear Reader, containing three items, one of which was a mystery thing, and two were signed. Let’s look at each in order…

Samuel’s Girl

I’d recently given a copy of ‘Six in Five in Four‘ to my IT Director at work. For his holiday; he was going sailing for a week, and so in desperate need of a collection of short stories, for dipping into when not doing important things with ropes and sails…

Roob tells Leggy about Nick

Samuel's Girl Signed To Nick

*/puffs… Kit Kat does take nice photos with his phone, Clicky…*

Mad Men

Mad Men Expanded

Although Poppy’s DVD gift was not a mystery, Dear Reader, it did have an element of surprise…

Mad Men in Danish

*/flicks ASH… Utter madness, Clicky… /drags… Still the play’s the…*

Mystery Thing

The third item in the care package was indeed signed, Dear Reader, but it wasn’t a book…

Hi Ruth

Final got this posted! The book and DVD are in the bottom of the box. On top is something I had no idea what to do with, so I thought “I know, I’ll lumber Ruth with it.” So here it is 😀

Six in Five in Four Original Artwork Signed

Do with it as you will, it probably burns well 😉

Kevin

Leggy had sent me his original artwork for the cover of ‘Six in Five in Four’! On the reverse, written faintly in pencil, were the names of all six Anthology authors, alongside their alchemy symbol. Thing Two, a.k.a. Kit Kat, was most intrigued by this; he even took a copy of the book away to read…

snoopy faint

*I know! …/stubs butt… That’s all it fucking took to get him interested, Clicky…*

Leggy tells Roob to go hang

I’ve hung Leggy’s book cover artwork in pride of place, Dear Reader, above the place where I lay down… my head to sleep… perchance to dream…

Bedroom Wall

Have a Song ❤

 

Missive From ‘Merica: With ADDED WOO

Been on a bit of cultural exchange these past two weeks, Dear Reader…

Adventure Time

*Indeed, Clicky! …/pats snout…*

… Whereby I’ve been introducing The Okie Devil of Text Us to Doctor Who

*It’s been an Utter joy, Clicky, bouncing around time and space with Cade… /lights up… Seeing things anew…*

… And in return, he has introduced me to Doowdaed

*No shit! It’s called Deadwood?! …/rubs eyes… Actually, Clicky, that does makes more sense… /drags…*

… And we’ll continue with more of that later today…

*/coughs… I ain’t shown him that one yet! …/taps ash… Mind you… /smokes… touch and hearing in one clip, Clicky? Fucking clever!*

Woo Hoo

In the meantime, Cade has very kindly sent a missive for us all to enjoy, Dear Reader…

*******

 

giphy

Where have I been?

Where have YOU been is likely a more appropriate question.

I've been taking a break.

Getting my bikini figure into shape for Bikini Season.

Let’s remedy that.

^DJ Shredda – Chainsaw (The Crow Mix)^

Let’s come me come clean. I’ve been avoiding anything and everything on the web, except Twitter, and I’ve been doing that for the last few months. I don’t care what it is, I don’t want to see it, and I don’t want to hear it. Those “pokes from else and/or elsewhere” have gotten too numerous. My feet, legs and hips are cramping almost non-stop, and it fucking hurts.

So yeah...vacation. 

I keep thinking about some 16 year old girl shooting herself. Can’t get it out of my fucking head. That, and this goddamn anti-smoking bullshit. Oh, and I’m trying to write. So there’s that. I also keep swirling around swirls. That has led me to some interesting thoughts on “flat space(s)”, so I’m gonna ramble about some of that…

assuming it's A-O-fucking-K with you.
^Acid Fighter (DJ Crow Remix) – Soundgrabber^


So what’s up with you where you are? It’s snowing outside here. Gonna put my cold weather gear on in a bit, go outside, and make a video. I doubt very seriously that most fucks are going to believe that it’s snowing in North Texas in late April, but it is. Once I make the video, we’ll have proof, the case will be solved forever, and there will be no reason to argue about the truth of spring snow(s) in Texas. I’ll keep you posted on where you can view the video.

^DJ The Crow meets DJ Arne LII – The Speed (Überdruck Mix)^


Why in the fuck would anyone care if North Korea/South Korea reunified? You running low on shit to talk about? Running low on shit to worry about? East Germany and West Germany got back together.

Maybe if you fucks would stop thinking in terms of big and small, you could actually focus. Or at least, make some discernment(s) as to what focus is.

Which reminds me, I got to thinking about the nature of focus with respect to membranes, and it got me to thinking about what is required to stretch a something so thin, that it results in the reduction of mass in certain sectors of the stretched membrane in such a way as to detract/reduce scale. Meaning, the reduction in mass does not cause a fundamental change in anything except scale.

Shrinking. 

Basically, a chain of say…Oxygen atoms…have become so stretched, all while retaining their relational bonds, that some atoms begin to shrink in scale. Methinks we are stumbling into/onto some gravity/anti-gravity kinds of things here.

^Norman Bass – How U Like Bass? (Warp Brothers Club Mix)^

Thinking more in terms of contextual processes that are created for the purpose(s) of creating something that does not currently exist, there are certain things that we can accept as being, for the most part…normal. Like say, the creation of a house using wood, that starts with the chopping down of a tree, and is followed by the chopping down of more trees.

Pretty normal sounding right? 

Welp, what about slamming sub-atom particles together at near the speed of light using the machines that we build in order to achieve this? Is that normal? Or can we consider it “normal” to qualify these activities as…abnormal.

Q: Is “sawdust” considered waste?

A: ???

Do we have processes in place to adequately deal with the ongoing sawdust issue(s)? Have we taken steps? Addressed concerns? Is the matter settled?

^Crash Bass – Hardshake^

Let’s focus

Focus (Optics)

Let’s get more focused

   Focus

We on the same page?

Let us turn it
^Gary Beck – Say What (Adam Beyer Remix) [SAVED RECORDS]^

I wonder how many membranes are breached in order to perform an “average” surgery.

Fascia
Fibromyalgia
Crystal Habit (Redirected from Fiberous habit)
Fiber
Dietary Fiber
Biodegradable Waste
Tortuous
Tortuosity
Tortious Interference
Tortuosamine
What Is a Tortuous Artery?
Twisted Blood Vessels: Symptoms, Etiology and Biomechanical Mechanisms

So can we assume that there is a difference between a perforation and a cut/incision? What about a stretch or strain? Wouldn’t an incision by a laser be both a perforation and a cut? No to mention the burn(ing).

^Hanayo – Joe le Taxi^


It’s just passed noon on Saturday April 28, and I’ve not been sleeping well. I’ve been dreaming non-stop for months now, but I guess its the season change that is currently fucking me up. I went on a 5 day drinking bender last week, and it did me some good. But still not sleeping very well. Guess I’m sweating heading to Austin a bit. Leaving for Austin soon, and looking forward to it, but also kinda nervous. The dynamics of the trip have suddenly changed. I’ll survive it tho. May even have some fun.

/me shrugs

On the up side, I’ve got the fever to write.

On the down side, I’m gonna be without my computer for a while.

I guess it's time to break out the pen and paper.

OH! I’ve got three stories in the new Underdog Anthology which was published this last week.

UAV front cover all named

I guess I need to write a post on it on my own goddamn blog.

^M83 ‘Midnight City’ Official video^


Got to thinking about the referential dynamics of gene sequences the other day, and the numbers went from “ridiculous” to “incomprehensible” almost immediately.

Picture This: two identical strands of DNA. One of these strands is located in the heart, and the other is flowing within the bloodstream. Now, imagine these two strands in relation to one another. Now think about the sequence in each strand. Do the sequences remain constant? What about in relation to each other?

I mean, we are talking more about cryptography/cryptology than we are about relationships or gene sequences/gene sequencing, so what about discretion, distinction and/or discrimination? Is there potentially some magic in the spacial relationships and orientations of identical things? What about like things? Similar not same kinds of things?

Cryptography
Discernment
Discernment of Spirits
Discrimination

So yeah, if you get two identical things together, what are they now?

Spooky action at a distance?

Or does the action always and forever need to follow a predefined path?

^Boy Harsher — Pain^

Was talking to a certain someone this week about “GUT”, and espoused that this particular pursuit is going to have to include multiple elements, and that the omission of a simultaneous “constructive/destructive” is likely why these efforts to construct a unification continues to fail and/or be elusive.

Grand Unified Theory

Whatever this “GUT” winds up being will have to have contextual nature, and I added Earth/Terra and Sun/Sol distinctions.

EX: The GUT on Earth/Terra will not be applicable on Mars, and the GUT on The Sun/Sol will differ from the GUT on Earth/Terra. We are in motion, and the only constant state appears to be that of “change” and/or “changing”, depending on where you are and when.

Perspective(s).

So yeah, there is likely a metric shitload of fucktons of galactic considerations that also need to be made. Maybe The Zodiac ain’t such a stretch afterall, eh? I mean, if these distant gamma ray bursts are suddenly of global concern because we can now see/detect them, that means that they’ve always been a concern. So I got a question for you…

Q: What’s your fucking hurry?

A: ¿?¿

Maybe if you fucks weren’t so goddamn wrapped up in the fatalistic ends of the more modern interpretations Darwinian theory/theories, you wouldn’t be so fucking anxious to win your very own Darwin Award, and take the rest of us with you in the process.

^Kiesza – Hideaway (Official Video)^

Yes, I am suggesting that certain sectors of science seem to be pretty goddamn fatalistic. I mean fuck, we can get that fatalism bullshit from religion. We don’t need it from you too.

But you’re free to do what you want.

Blow it all up.

😐
^Azari & III – Hungry for the power (Jamie Jones remix)^

 My brain hurts.

Imma go get something to eat, then video the snow for anyone who wants to see it.

^’I FINK U FREEKY’ by DIE ANTWOORD (Official)^

cYacFa

^Hey Boy Hey Girl (Soulwax ‘2 Many DJ’s’ Remix)^

*******

Feeding time

*Yeah, I’m hungry too, Clicky… /stubs butt… Let’s get sumfin to eat…*

Dear Reader? CYL… 😉 …and have a Song ❤

137: Pointlessly Exercised

Seams, Dear Reader, that the Dez Rez Prez of Trump Town is to pay a visit to Old Blighty on 137

*Cool vid… /lights up… Hey, Clicky, didn’t I see sumfin ’bout spoons earlier? …/drags…*

*Sounds like a good idea… /exhales smoke… Butt it DON’t say ‘working visits’…/coughs… He probably DON’t have to go through those detector thingies anyway… /taps ash…*

*Heh! …/reflects on curling smoke… You know, I used to go out with a Gareth Jones, Clicky… /drags… 1985… Year of Five Boyfriends… /streams smoke… He came from Wales…*

Kit Chien Sink

*Oh fuck yeah! …/grins… He gave me a loving spoon… /slurps cherry Coke… Still got it, overlooking the Kit Chien sync…*

… Sew, I was chatting to my friend and Welsh Dragon publisher, Leggy, about the visit last night on Twitter…

Roob and Legs convo 1

*Flashback eh, Clicky? …/drags…*

Merovee selfie 090315 Roob telling Vik Roof was robbed

*…/blows smoke… The burglars were much tidier than the car thieves… /flicks ASH…*

 

Roob and Legs convo 2Roob and Legs convo 3Roob and Legs convo 4

*/shakes head… Funny how he’s all up for exercising ‘free speech’ when it comes to stuff… /final drag… he don’t like himself… /expels smoke…*

Roob and Legs convo 5Roob and Legs convo 6

*/stubs butt… If the mercury’s rising, Clicky… /rolls eyes…*

UAV About Roob page Mercury Rising

*Ah! …/beams… Nice way to promote Underdog Anthology V, Clicky… /pats snout…*

Dear Reader… Have a Song 😉

 

 

 

Crossing the Date Line

*Coming out of what, Clicky? …/lights up rollie and drags…*

UAV front and back cover

*/puffs contentedly…*

At last, Dear Reader, the Underdog Anthology V is published

*Knot a graphic novel, Clicky… /streams smoke… Short stories, many authors…*

… I’d been speculating with Leggy late on Friday as to the date it might appear…

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 1

… The first ‘event’ listed in the Wiki link – ‘The Year of SIX Emperors’…

LONE-STAR-1

*Five pointed star! I was thinking of The Okie Devil of Textus… /flicks ash… Cade’s got stories in the book. I didn’t even think of that, Clicky… /pats snout… What did I list next?*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 2

*/drags… 19 Four-Tees… /blows smoke ring… Nineteen stories…*

*Three? …/squints… Sew, inadvertently, Leggy and I counted down six, five, four three… /final drag…*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 3

*2, 1… /stubs butt… Hey, how about that ‘wolf trap‘, Clicky?*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 4

 

Strangely enough, Dear Reader, if you go check out UAV’s listing on Amazon – and I suggest you doo 😉 – it’s published date is 20th April

facepalm

*Oh I dunno, Clicky… /lights up… 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0… /grins…*

Have a Song 😉

Who Noob Tales: Nine Lives… No, Really

I am having a long weekend, Dear Reader. I spent yesterday daytime making final edits to stories in the soon-to-be-published ‘Underdog Anthology V: Six in Five in Four’. Leggy has a preview, in which he includes one of his stories from the book…

Old Peculier on the neighbours cat

*/grins… How peculiar, Clicky… /lights up…*

peculiar (adj.)

mid-15c., “belonging exclusively to one person,” from Latin peculiaris “of one’s own (property),” from peculium “private property,” literally “property in cattle” (in ancient times the most important form of property), from pecu “cattle, flock,” related to pecus “cattle” (see pecuniary). Meaning “unusual” is first attested c. 1600 (earlier “distinguished, special,” 1580s; for sense development, compare idiom). Related: Peculiarly.

wiki peculier

*’Also KT and KH’…/drags… No shit! …/streams smoke… *

Then last night Cade and I resumed his introduction to Doctor Who, and also caught up with Leggy and Poppy… Les amis…

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 1

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 2Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 3Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 4

rare doctor who hand flap

*/flicks ash… Knot a favourite episode, Clicky… /drags… although, excellent use of a jammie dodger… /blows smoke rings… I’d forgotten about that…*

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 5

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 6Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 7

*Like the villain, House, in The Doctor’s Wife, Clicky, Daleks are a bit like a sea anemone… /puffs… “hard on the outside, squishy on the inside”… I hadn’t made that connection before… /taps teeth…*

Anyhoo, in honour of Old Peculier’s neighbour’s cat, Dear Reader, and seeing as a ‘cat‘ won today’s Grand National, I thought I’d take a leaf out of Leggy’s book – pun intended – and post one of my stories from UAV. It’s short and called ‘Nine Lives’. The Knot-Sew confidential making of it can be found here. Enjoy!

*******

NINE LIVES

Karl sat at his kitchen table, smoking and observing the tendrils of early morning mist gently tickle the tops of the garden hedge, before continuing their soft creep to the ground. It was dark outside but the lawn glittered with stars; pregnant dew drops nestling in the grass caught the thin, amber light that spilled from the kitchen window. He stubbed out his cigarette and gulped back the last dregs of cold tea from his mug with a grimace. Not long now, Karl thought, she’ll be home soon. Outside the mist started to swirl and pool.

He stood up and stretched, bones creaking and knees popping as if to salute the end of his vigil. He fleetingly considered that he was getting too old for this malarkey, but she needed a watcher – someone to light the way back. He could bear the discomfort; it was only for the night. Karl rubbed his eyes under his glasses, and dragged his hands down over bristled cheeks to wipe any tiredness away. He contemplated putting the kettle on when he heard the first high pitched bark puncturing the dark. The second got him moving. “Not the foxes again!”

As he opened the back door, the wet slap of morning air to hit Karl’s face was accompanied by a rude crash and skitter of a dustbin lid falling, somewhere in the mist. She’s coming from the right, he thought, opening the door wider to peer out into the murk. More barks, louder this time, and a fiery hiss, were followed by the sound of clambered wood, as the garden fence shook violently. Karl held the door further ajar, and a white streak shot out of the mist and between his legs, into the kitchen.

Karl closed the door on the mist and the foxes who, by the sound of it, were now rummaging through next door’s bin for tasty scraps. He turned to the slight figure, lying on the kitchen floor. “For goodness sake, Lara, do you have to tease the foxes? It upsets the neighbours.”

“It upsets the bins,” Lara replied, lightly panting as she rolled over and attempted to sit up. “No, they were waiting for me. Foxes are not called cunning for nothing, Karl.”

“Yes, but they usually leave you alone when you’re hedge riding.”

Lara sighed. “It would seem witches aren’t held in much esteem these days. Not by people or wildlife.”

Karl surveyed the flush in his wife’s cheeks and her glittering eyes, and thought she still looked pretty formidable considering her advanced years. He also noticed the shudder in her arm propping her up. “You should get off the floor. What would you like, sofa or chair?” he asked, scooping her up, with barely a tremble from his own geriatric limbs.

“Sofa,” Lara replied with a wan smile. “Thank you, dear. And a cuppa and a ciggie wouldn’t go amiss either.”

“Funnily enough, I was just about to put the kettle on,” Karl replied, before lowering his wife, so she could reach out and pluck the cigarette packet and lighter from the kitchen table. A fat bead of blood splashed onto the surface below, quickly followed by another. “You’re injured?”

“Damn foxes.” Lara winced and drew her arm back toward her chest. “One of them managed to get a mouthful of armpit. I don’t think it’s too deep. Just stings a bit.”

“But you’re bleeding,” Karl said gruffly. Too gruffly, he feared, from the look his wife shot him. “Okay, let’s get you comfortable and then I can clean that up,” he continued in a more conciliatory tone, before carrying her through to the front room.

Karl noticed that Lara was already on her second cigarette when he returned five minutes later, to set out a bowl of hot water, soap, flannel and towel on the carpet before her. “Kettle’s on for tea,” he said kneeling down. He adjusted his glasses and gingerly started to lift Lara’s elbow. “Can’t let it get infected, how would we explain that to Dr Patel?”

“I can always change back so you can take me to a vet,” Lara replied sharply, pulling away from his grasp.

She must be in great pain, Karl thought. “Come now, dear, we don’t have pet insurance. We don’t own a pet.” Lara’s eyes briefly flashed at his riposte, but her body relaxed and she allowed him to lift her arm. “So apart from getting into a fight with some foxes…”

“Ambushed by some foxes,” Lara quickly corrected him.

“Sorry, ambushed by some foxes on the way home, how was the rest of your night?”

Lara took a deep drag from her cigarette. “Well it started off okay,” she said, billowing a great cloud of smoke. “I went to see Annie and girls down at Saint Michael’s.”

“And how are Annie and the girls?” Karl asked as he cleaned her wound of blood.

“Dead.”

“Naturally.” Any bleeding seemed to have stopped, but the swelling around the punctures had already started to bruise, turning an angry black mauve that only truly flourished on elderly skin. Karl stopped himself flinching at the sight. “You’d think they’d get themselves a spirit cat.”

“They’ve got a spirit cat,” Lara gently rebuked him with a chuckle.

“A ghost cat, then.” Karl smiled at her mirth. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh a ghost cat would be just as stuck as they are. Graveyards are lonely places, Karl. The residents like the company and the gossip. Especially the newly interred. Once the funeral is over, they rarely get more than a yearly visit from any family. If that.” Lara finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray perched on the arm of the sofa. “How’s it looking?”

“Ugly but clean. It’ll need some arnica,” Karl replied, rising carefully to his feet. “That’s in the kitchen. Besides, the kettle must have boiled by now. No, no. You stay there. I’ll go.”

Lara laughed and shooed him away with her good arm before reaching for the cigarettes and lighter.

Karl could hear swearing from outside the back door; Jim must be up and found the aftermath of the fox fracas. Karl popped the kettle on and grabbed the arnica and some aspirin from the medicine cupboard, chuckling at the string of expletives emanating from over the garden fence. He glanced out the window to see that sunrise was already burning off the mist that had been so thick an hour or so ago. It looked like it could be a lovely day.

The sound of the front doorbell caught him off guard. Who would be calling at this hour? Karl wondered and went to open the front door. Through the frosted glass he could make out the shape of a woman in a bright pink dressing gown. What could she want? Karl thought as he unlocked and opened the door. “Morning Celia. Is everything alright?”

“Oh Karl,” his next door neighbour cried, her face puffy and contorted with distress. “Karl, I’m so sorry if I’ve woke you,” Celia started to apologise. “There was some trouble with foxes in our garden last night. I don’t know if you heard any of it.”

“No,” Karl lied. “But I heard Jim swearing earlier. Did they make much of a mess?”

Celia looked distraught at the suggestion. “Well yes, but…” she trailed off with a sob. “Karl, it’s Lara. I’m so sorry. They killed your cat.” Celia had not come empty handed; she held out a bundle, wrapped neatly in a towel, out in front of her.

Karl felt an icy chill bloom from the crown of his head and cascade down his body. “Thank you,” he said numbly, taking the bundle from Celia’s shaking hands.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Celia continued but Karl had already shut the front door. He felt the lightness of the bundle in his arms. It felt so slight.

“Lara?” Karl called as he carried it through to his wife, but the front room was empty. He laid the bundle on the sofa and sat down next to it. A spiral of smoke floated up from the ashtray perched on the arm. Karl turned and picked up the last of the burning cigarette and with trembling fingers, finished his smoke.

*******

I’m off now to introduce Cade to Thoughtful Man’s favourite companion, Dear Reader…

Clara

*/winks…*

Have a Song ❤

Five Alive? Defo!

*Ah cool image, Clicky… /pat snout… Actually my hair hasn’t looked like that once this week… /lights up…*

Dear Reader, I have been on holiday these last couple of days, and have finally managed to write my short story about a hedge riding hag

feather powered happiness

*I am pretty happy with the result, Clicky…/puffs…*

…and have submitted it to Leggy for inclusion in the upcoming ‘Underdog Anthology V‘. The story is called ‘Nine Lives’…

*I’ve still got time to mutilate a poem for the Afterword before I go back to work, Clicky… /drags… If I can find the right one… /billows smoke…*

I was also able to spend some time yesterday in the Blue universe. Frank Davis had been snooping around New York, after reading about the proposed bill to stop people from smoking whilst walking the streets of that fair city

*They’re fucking unbelievable! …/flicks ash… First you can’t smoke inside, and now the utopian dreamers are trying to dictate where and how you can smoke outside… /deep drag… Nasty Not-sees indeed… /sighs…*

He was looking at street signs there and came across one that had him perplexed…

‘Just a few yards away was another really weird sign. I think it was some sort of aphorism. But I couldn’t make out what it said, because it seemed to be written in bleeding, dripping letters that said something like Afraid And Dead. I guess that if you were crossing 2nd Avenue and you stopped to try to figure out what the scary sign meant, you’d find out when you got hit by a truck.’

It puzzled me, too; however, the photo Frank included was somewhat fuzzy, so I sent Clicky off for a closer inspection…

sign for blue frank

*Much better but it still looks like worshipers or sumfin’ to me, Clicky… /drags deeply… In sinister black… /snorts smoke…*

… and find an answer.

school for deaf street sign new york

*Those are hands!*

hans gruber

*/reads slowly… School For Deaf …/squints… Dept of Transport… /final drag… Oh! The yellow buses! It’s a bus stop sign, Clicky! … /streams smoke…*

applause sign

*Alright, don’t take the piss… /stubs butt… Well done you, though, on working it out… There’s a good assistant… /pats snout…*

It was a sign for deaf school children, Dear Reader…

…As my good friend, Cade, might say…

‘MYSTERY SOLVED! NEXT!’

music sign

*Okay then…/lights up… And as you’re such a clever Clicky, you can choose…*

Dear Reader… Have a Song 😀