Category: The Underdog Anthology

Missive From ‘Merica : A Seismic Vermiform

Good News, Dear Reader! There will be an Underdog Easter Anthology.

Bad News, Dear Reader! I will be submitting a story or two… 😉

*/chortles… I can’t believe The Blocked Dwarf thought I was a bloke either, Clicky…*

Extra Good News!

Cade has sent us another missive…

*Okay then, Clicky, I’ll leave this in your capable, um, fins… /picks up lighter… I’m off to go do some work on my first story… /sighs… It needs sumthing… Oh and don’t forget to end on a Song… /pats snout…*

Dear Reader, Enjoy! ❤

*******


!!!HOWDY DIRTBAG ASSHOLES!!!

^I Wanted Be^

Cade: So…where do we start?
X: …
0: I dunno. Where do you want to start?
Z: Don’t start with me.
Cade: K. We’ll start there.
T: Where?
Cade: There?
B: Which one.
Cade: I don’t fucking know…pick one!
B: <closes eyes and points randomly, while covering eyes with other hand>
Cade: BINGO!!! Nice choice. (What is it btw?)
B: THERE!
Cade: Ah. Siriusly?
X: Maybe.
0: May I?
Cade: May you what?
0: Choose.
Cade: Ain’t nothing stopping ya.
0: <imitates “B” while restraining smirk>
Cade: AH HA! South! The Stars in the Southern Sky eh?
Z: Isn’t that a line from a song or something?
Cade: You mean…you don’t know?
Z: You coulda just…played along.
Cade: “There…are stars…in the southern sky.”
X: Who sung that?
Cade: The group “Alabama?”
T: And how do you know that?
Cade: I was born in part of “Redneck Central?”
0: Go ahead and mention the rest of “the sky.”
Cade: K…um…aren’t there stars every fucking where?
X: Haven’t looked lately.
Cade: Your 360°/360°/360°/Times-Times-Times + Time goggles malfunctioning?
X: Yeah. Googling me a new pair right now.
Cade: Why not just have the old pair repaired?
X: Hadn’t thought of that.
Cade: I dunno…your choice mang/mangette or whatever. Maybe it’s time for a new pair.
X: …
Cade: lolz…sry…just…dunno what to say here.
Z: How’d that “paper signing” go today?
Cade: Well. The Notary was nice, no fees, in and out.
A: Kinda like…
Z: …your marriage?
Cade: Not really. We talked a bit before hand. We’re good.
X: …
Cade: Yep. The end…it’s always…whatever it is.
X: The start of something new?
Cade: I dunno. I mean…yeah…but I have no idea what that is.
Z: …I might…have…some ideas.
Cade: Cool. Can’t wait to hear them.
Z: Oh yeah you can.
Cade: lolz…sounds…ominous.
Z: Not meant that way….maybe. 😉
Cade: Good enough.
Z: …
^Mango – Sayonara (Original Mix)^
Cade: So now what?
X: You aren’t gonna make this “an all conversation(s) post” are you?
Cade: Thought about it…but now? No. I remembered what Roob does to these things, and I don’t want her to have to spend a month of her time editing some mental masturbation exercise of mine, just because it sounded like a good idea.
X: Do you need a paper towel?
Cade: It would appear not.
X: I meant…for the tears.
Cade: Those will come when, and if, they come.
X: …
Z: Don’t look at me for answers.
Cade: Just thought I would give everyone/anyone a chance at that one.
0: I’ll bite.
Cade: 😉…well played.
0: Thank you.
T: I have a question.
Cade: Shoot.
T: Do you really think that people who read this, think…that you actually cry?
Cade: You mean, over the divorce?
T: Yep.
Cade: I’m just talking. Not asking anyone to believe anything.
X: Realness?
Cade: It’s as good as anything I guess.
Z: You figure…
Cade: …I figure if I’m honest inwardly, I can be honest outwardly.
X: Reduces the chance of judgements?
Cade: Maybe. I’ve just thought of it like that. But…it sounds…sound.
Z: If someone needed to hear anything that you had to say…
Cade: …that’s…pretty good actually. Maybe…
B: An…essence…of…synchronicity.
Cade: The ID, and the EGO…in action.
X: You got it.
Z: Sounds…close enough anyway.
0: I’m…not so…sure.
Cade: And why would you be…”sure.”
0: Wanna test that?
Cade: Maybe.
0: hmmmm….
X: What was that movie that you just watched?
L: It was called “Constantine.”
Cade: Correct.
K: And wasn’t he in a comic book that you read?
Cade: Swamp Thing.
K: Ah yes…that’s the one. Your daughter checked that out from the library correct?
Cade: If memory serves. (which…it does)
0: Correct on all counts.
Cade: Wow. 1…by my count anyway.
Z: HALT!
Cade: Fair enough.
0: …
^Pryda – Melo (Original Mix)^


So yeah…it’s 15:09PM here in this part of the world, and I just got back from the bank where I signed the proper papers from the divorce decree, and had them notarized.

I had some really bad dreams last night. I don’t usually talk about my dreams, but in this one of many that I had last night, I was being controlled against my will…and there was nothing that I could do about it. I won’t go into the details, but it involved being pushed into a jet engine intake, while the engine was running, and then that jet engine was then swallowed by a black hole. All of time and space was already distorted and warping, and was further warping as the jet engine both started to tear my body apart, as it itself was in turn torn apart by the black hole.

However, I was not afraid.

I was angry…furious…even. There was nothing that I could do to stop the unseen force who held me in place until the jet engine started to devour me, nor was there anything that I could do to keep the engine from either devouring me…nor to prevent the jet engine itself from being devoured by the black hole. Matter bent and warped as my fury soared in rebellion against any and all forces that had forced me to be where I did not want to be. But I was at peace. Even in my fury at it’s most furious…I was at peace. None of the forces that sought to destroy me succeeded…and they themselves were consumed by their own purpose and purposes, and I saved by mine. And what purpose and purposes were those of mine which saved me?

No purpose. No purposes.
^Solarity – Terminal 6 (Original Mix)^

I can still see the colors that were painted on the jet engine swirling and melding together, as the jet engine’s own power was overcome by an even greater force and forces of the black hole. Almost as if that “unseen force” that had originally forced me into that particular position, was stronger still than even the black hole itself. And that…for whatever reason…this was no more than a test of my resolve.

Q: Am I really ready to stare down the bull again, and why?

A: I have no answer for this, other than perhaps…”because it needs to be done.”

As to the hows and whys? Not important to me, unless and until it is. When and if that time comes, I want to be myself…period. That’s what I would think…that tests and testing would and or should, be all about. A selfish selfless act. But it must…be real.

^Mango + Kazusa – Asphalt Lines (Original Mix)^


So I got into a discussion over at Hugo’s blog because I felt it necessary, and it appears that so did they. With respect to myself…I find it ironic that someone has to tell another…”I usually don’t talk.” Because if you read any of my bullshit, you’re prolly operating under the assumption that I never shut the fuck up.

Well…partially…you’d be right. I almost never shutup in my own head. Lotta shit swirling around in there. Stormy…even.

X: …dunno if I’d go so far as to say that there is anything at all up there…but…proceed…

Lolz…anyway…yeah….it keeps me sane.

Yep…you heard that correctly…it keeps me sane.

I’ve tried meditation. And sometimes, I can do it quasi-OK. But we ask a lot of ourselves in our times. We always tell ourselves that “5 minutes is not enough” or “we gotta try harder to do more”…and others are sometimes more than happy to oblige us with additional inspiration urgings, suggestions and caveats. And not that suggestions are a bad thing. Just…don’t get pissed at me because I ain’t doing my shit…your way. You wanna advise? Do it with me. Then we can watch each other’s techniques in a more practical way, and see what works, what doesn’t and why. Maybe even make some modifications to your and/or my techniques as we see fit…together.

^Stress (Original)^

So yeah…after some lengthy exchanges…I arrived at this…

Q: What is the source of my inspiration?

A: *.*

Or…all. Some things we may need more inspiration than others to stay away from. Such as, staying away from the movie “Jaws” for at least 6-months prior to planning a vacation to the beach. Or avoiding the movie “Titanic” just prior to sailing on a 7 day/6 night cruise of the North Atlantic. However, you might want to consider making a point in watching the movie “Airplane” just prior to heading out to the airport to get on an airplane these days. It may be educational in dealing with the circus you will participate in prior to the aircraft’s takeoff.

^The Shapeshifters – Lola’s Theme (OFFICIAL VIDEO)^
Trombiculidae
How to Prevent and Treat Chigger Bites
Louse
Finnegans Wake
Model Organism
Head Louse
Body Louse
Crab Louse
Parasitism (Redirected from Parasite)
Parasitic Castration
Gonad
Crus of Clitoris
Erectile Tissue
Autonomic Nervous System
Reflex
Golgi Tendon Reflex
Stretch Reflex
Jaw Jerk Reflex
Pharyngeal Reflex (Redirected from Gag Reflex)
Sensory Neuron
Proprioception
Muscle Spindle
Synapse

So yeah…the bullshit about heat conducting materials in my previous whatever really has had my mind spinning. Not only thinking about body temperature regulation, but also the fact that since many of these heat conducting materials are crystalline, they prolly also conduct electricity in ways that we may not be aware of yet. And thinking about that even further, what about these metallic and or all metal or even resin-based composites that may not have much if any crystalline components… but they, thanks to scientific discovery and changes in manufacturing…have crystalline structures? I mean…do ya think that sometimes…just maybe…that even nature herself get’s a little…confused as to how to handle a pathway that appears to be there…but isn’t?

Just sayin.
^The Judys – Grass is Greener^


But but but…Cade…you uppity asshole…that is the whole point! Energy and energies are directed to and around these things! It helps to conduct heat and electricity better?

O RLY!

Trying to … speed things up … by slowing them down?

Bernoulli’s Principle on the micro level and/or a more finite understanding of how it works/how to harness/manipulate it?

Hmmm…so…efficiency, at the expense of efficiency?

Where do that lectricty and heats goes?

    Away?

Where…specifically?

Cause that don’t sound like balance to me. And I’ve seen both balance and imbalance in the micro and macro…and when and where balance and imbalance are out of whack…and it ain’t pretty. As a matter of fact…it’s confusing as shit. You begin to think that you are seeing things that you in fact, are not seeing.

BOLD! You might say.

Not really.

Think membranes and veils? And suddenly, you’ll maybe be able to see why you are seeing what you are seeing, and why you are not seeing what you are not seeing.

EX: My assertion that protons are NOT in fact, colliding at all. That the energy and energies that you are seeing, are actually a coalescing of energy and energies, that have been coming together for a very long time, in anticipation of the goings on at accelerators, colliders, and in other forms of nuclear and microscopic testing that is currently going on in all kinds of places.

^Ministry – You Know What You Are^

Tachyons? Traveling backwards in time? But what about…when they are going forwards in time? Ever think about that? Impossible? Why? They have but one constant state…change. They do not work alone. I mean…how else would something be able to travel backwards in time? And to bend your brain a little further…what if they travel not only backwards in time, but also forwards in time, and even…forwards and backwards in time, both at the same time…from right fucking here in the present. Speed…it ain’t just an illegal different form/formula of caffeine. And jokes and joking aside…it ain’t what you think it is. At least, not only that.

^Gold Panda – You^


BTW, I need a car. I want you to give me yours. I’ll be over 5 minutes ago to pick it up.

Just kidding.

You prolly drive a sucky car.

I don’t drive a sucky car.

I don’t own a car at all.

But prolly, neither do you.

Prolly a lease.

Q: Where in the fuck do all of these lease cars go after sitting on these vast lots in the middle of nowhere for God knows how long?

A: ¿Charity?

^Clams Casino – I’m God R.I.P David Higgs^

I know…I’m just bitter and angry because I went and signed the divorce papers today.

Yep.

Mystery = SOLVED! Next!

^Fun.: We Are Young ft. Janelle Monáe [OFFICIAL VIDEO]^

AH HA!!! A question for me via the Whatever However Hotline!!! And this one is coming from…the future!!!

Q: So Cade, if you are so hip to these particles and matter and energy, and the time and times that they operate from, to, in, and through…how come you cannot see the future?

A: I can.

Yep..srsly…or ya rly…or whatever floats yer boat.

However, I have no interest in the future. Not in the way that most want to see it. I am MUCH more interested in the past, than I am the future. I don’t think that the past repeats itself like most seem to equate the future. I think the future is just as fuzzy as the past can be. But there is prolly some rhyme and reason to that. I mean…assuming that there is rhyme and/or reason to anything. But yeah…the past…fuzzier than even the future. Helps keep “the future” more in the “a future” kinda mode. Which helps “the past” be “a past” and/or…”a past” be “the past.” I am of the opinion that we tend to be VERY harsh and willy-nilly with the past…cavalier even. And yet, the past is, and/or at least…can be…very fucking clear. So long as no one is constantly fucking with it by trouncing “was” with “is.” The past and the future are delicate things that are always static and always in motion, both at the same time…that we stumble over and around in the present.

Weird eh?
^Swedish House Mafia – Don’t You Worry Child ft. John Martin^

vv4mtfs

I dunno mang and/or mangette…I’m just brainstorming. I’ve thought about a lot of this shit for a very long time, and I’m trying my best to learn how to write about some of these things. I’m not under the impression that we are on the wrong path. Just not doubting that we are getting some things wrong, up to and including, not even considering the things that we are getting right when we are getting something wrong. But…your focus is yours. You wanna march and yell…march and yell. Hell…it can’t hurt if you aren’t trying to hurt anyone. But I don’t see the logic in trouncing someone because you are afraid they might trounce you if you don’t trounce them first, nor do I see the logic in completely replacing the whatever you just replaced for being non-representative of you. Because you are forgetting something and or someone. I have no idea what that might be tho.

Maybe you can figure it out.

Maybe I can help.

Maybe not.

But helping would be my hope.

^Bonobo : Cirrus [Official Video]^

No..I cannot really see the future in the way that most perceive the future.

My crystal balls and wizard cloak/hat are still on back order.

meh

/me shrugs

But even without them, I’ve been known to have my moments.

Don’t we all?

^Mister Lies – False Astronomy (Official Video)^


Maybe there is a practical answer for practically everything.

Afterall, isn’t practicality subjective?

Not like we are motherfucking SURROUNDED with practical demonstrations of practically everything.

I’ve seen one or two practical demonstrations within nature as well.

But practically both of those were done by humans.

😉
^Blockhead – The Music Scene – Official Video [HD]^


I’m almost completely partially officially divorced.

<golf clap>

Everything is a process.

    Everything is a process.

 Everything is a process.

     …End of Line.

^Concrete Walls by Fever Ray lyrics^
Cade: Anything else?
Z: Nope.
X: Nope.
A: Nope.
0: …
Cade: lolz…that may or may not be able to be considered “a nope” from “0” as well.
0: Nope.
Cade: lol…asshole.
0: Nope.
Cade: K…fair enough.
T: Whadda ya want from me?
Cade: …
B: …
Cade: Good enough, close enough, or…whatevz.
X: You sound a little…lost.
Cade: I’m good.
T: No you aren’t.
Cade: Fair enough.
^Foetus – Wash It All Off^


|c\Y\a|
/c|F|a/

^NONONO – Pumpin Blood (Official Video)^

*******

Missive from ‘Merica: ReAR Viewing…

Somebody has read ‘The Underdog Anthology‘.

Sommebody decided to review it.

Sumbody send it to me…

expectation
*The need unmet, Clicky? /lights up…*

 

*******

The Purple Ship

Ship’s Credo

“Speak Truth…Along The Long Road In Which You Must Travel.”
“Seek Truth…Along The Long Road In Which You Must Travel.”
“Speak/Seek Truth…In Your Long Logbook of Travels.”
^Alice | Pogo^
CAPTAIN’S LOG: Cade FON Apollyon – Commanding-ish
Captain’s Primary Responsibility/Responsibilities: Chief Chef-Cook & Bottle Washer/Janitor/Crew Morale
MISSION: Read A Fucking Book. No…not a fucking book about fucking. This is a fucking book, that may or may not have fucking in it, but that is irrelevant…unless it’s a hot fuck scene. But…yeah…whatevz…I’m trying to read/review a book for a fucking friend/friends I don’t even fucking know. Just…whatevz. READ!!!

lymon1
Day 001: OK…lemme give this watered down limey lemon some sugar.

And before you ask…no. I do not work for either of the companies that make the sodas known as 7-Up, nor Sprite, Mountain Dew, nor any other “lemon-lime” flavored beverage(s).

I’m just some asshole Okie from Texas who is writing a goddamn book review on some book that some limey chick sent me. K? Got that? Fucking GREAT! Let’s keep going.

The book is called “First Volume.” What a bunch of pretentious pricks. They are so fucking CERTAIN that this piece of shit is not only worth buying and reading, but down the road…there are going to be EVEN MORE ITERATIONS/VERSIONS of this limey lemon piece of shit. If I would have known what was in store for me by reading this piece of shit book, I would have opened the fucking package with a flamethrower instead of a switchblade.

WHEW!!! Was that good for you? OK, now that I’ve gotten my own pretentious prick bullshit out of the way…on with the review.

OK…not yet. Because I’ve only started reading the book, and I’m only on the 5th story. BUT! I had to go ahead and start my review, because I sat out on the back porch in the sunshine this afternoon and finally started reading this book that someone was so thoughtful as to send me a copy of…free of charge. So, I decided that I wanted to write a review of the book. Why? Well…it’s the least I can do. I was sent a free book from someone unknown-ish…for reasons unknown, outside of a random act of kindness. And this particular book is a book of short stories, which is right up my fucking alley. I fucking LOVE short stories.

Captain's NOTE: 

Someday make a list of short stories that made me love short stories.
-cFa
2017.01.26
^The Prodigy-Narayan^

11191511_620183811450225_1261180413_n
Day 002 – Entry “A”: The late-January NorthTexas sun is still far to the South as it transverses the afternoon sky in a rainbow-esque parabolic trajectory in the midday to late afternoon hours. This has the effect of some stunning sunrises and sunsets…with purples, reds and maroons that would seem almost un-Earthly were it not for the fact that I am indeed on the planet Earth/Terra.

The old sailing adage of…

“Red Sky in the morning? Sailor take warning.
“Red sky at night? Sailor’s delight.”

                                                                     …almost becomes irrelevant, as the only thing that distinguishes the sunset and the sunrise, is the human invention known as “the clock.” Plus…I’m motherfucking 500 miles from the nearest water-based ocean…so…yeah…or something.

Such a strange world with strange peoples that would invent such a strange thing as “the clock” in a strange Universe of uncalcuable/incalculable time and times…weird.

Anyway…

Yeah…I wound up finishing the 5th story in the book, and starting the 6th story, when the Sun/Sol’s steady gaze in the cloudless sky, beckoned me to gently lay the book on the hard concrete patio where I had been sitting/reading, lay my fat ass down, and take a nap in the mid-afternoon sunshine.

So…I did just that. Slept for about an hour or so, with the sun warming my fat ugly ass as I slept. What is the pertinence? Welp…the outside ambient air-temperature was/is only about 45°F/7.2°C…which with the afternoon winds/wind gusts…is quite chilly. Nevermind the fact that I am wearing a thin cotton T-Shirt, rayon shorts, my toboggan hat, my glasses, and nothing else. The sun is hot irrespective of air temperature. It warms my entire being as I sleep. Cool breaths of wind remind my body of the time within time and times, as the sun marches on across the big blue cloudless sky. I drift in and out of sleep on the warm concrete below me.

I dream.

Pillows? Blankets? I need not these things, as the sun and wind and their motions work in tandem to keep me both warm and cool in the endless black of the light.

I estimate that I read for about 15 minutes, then slept for about 1.5 hours on the hard cement. Upon waking, my left arm refused to operate normally for a while to remind me of the concept known as life withing the construct of mortality within the construct(s) known as mortality/immorality.

Glorious.
-cFa
2017.01.27
^Ida Engberg – Junoverse (Original Mix)^

sugar-free-sprite-ad
Day 002 – Entry “B”: Time = 20:49 PM – My father peeks at me through a portal within the purple band of “the rainbow”…where the rainbows meet….color to color…and similar and same, to similar and same. Just…letting me know that he is there. Both watching me, and watching out for me. It is difficult to explain the “else” within the realm of “the seen.” For “the unseen” is unseen. Except in those rare occasions when the need(s) arise where a crossing and communication between realms becomes necessary, for whatever reason and/or reasons. I do not know. For it is not my job “to know”…until, if, and when, it is my job to know. My “job”…is to be underway. A seeker. A traveler. Mobile.

Restless.

Yes…there is such a thing as “an immovable object.”
Yes…there is such a thing as “an upstoppable force.”
Yes…there is such a thing as “an unstoppable force within an immovable object.”

These things I can take on faith, for I have seen them.

WAIT!!! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait a moment there sparky!!!

Q: You have “seen” these things…but you still take them on faith?

A: Yes.

We are talking about the “mechanics of”…yes? Which means that we are talking about “the mechanics of the mechanics.”

Q: How much more simple can things get?

A: This is for you to know and/or find out….on your own.

It is not my place to tell you.
I can only assist and/or help whenever and wherever I can.
I cannot tell you what is what, or when or what to do where.
That…would violate freedom and freedom of choice.

Knowing…it’s a hell of a thing within a heavenly realm.

Communication and communication is all we really have. It’s the very foundation of the foundations of the concept known as relationships and relating. The Creator…is always busy. Sounds…familiar…eh?

I cower. I digress. I stand.
-cFa
2017.01.27
^Jay Lumen & Gary Beck – Strange Fruit (Original Mix)^

picture190
Day 003- Entry “A” via Day 002: Tomorrow…it’s here. Not really…because it’s 22:02 PM on Friday January 27rdth of 2017. I’m just going ahead and getting ready for tomorrow’s reading, by writing just a tad bit more about…what I have not yet read. Afterall…the story that I am currently reading (6th story) is more on “my territory” kinds of grounds with respect to locale, because it deals with “The European” and “New Native American(s)” dealing/dealings with “The New Old Native America” and it’s “Old Native Americans”…both new and old.

This is gonna be a tough read. Because I am a “new” Native American that just so happens to have “old” Native American blood coursing through my veins. But I have to temper these feelings with the fact(s) that

A) I was not there, and…

B) I was not there, and…

X: I am here.

Those who were there, were there. I am here. Which means that I am here, and there, all at the same time, and “there” is a little more “flexible” in my thinking and thought processes…because I see a simulataneousness of “there” being past…and “there” being future…all from right here in the present.

Sterling (Cigarette)
Hmmm....menthol. Interesting.
-cFa
2017.01.27
^Ida Engberg – Lucky Ones (Original Mix)^

competition
Day 003- Entry “B” via Day 003: Tomorrow…it’s here. Officially. Today is actually here and the actual official date reflects that fact/these facts as of this day/date of Saturday January 28-teenth, 2017 AD/CE/WE.

AD = Anno Domini

Anno Domini

CE = Common Era

Common Era

WE = What The Fuck Ever

Whatever (Slang)
And here it is.

The Big Moment!

The Moment That Nobody Has Been Waiting For!

It’s “officially”… Day 003, so I can officially start reading again. I just completed a repost of some old shit over at my blog from 2016.11.15, which just ALSO happens to be…someone I know’s birthday. But…enough about me…I gotta get back to the book.

I must…get…back… …to that…book!!!

OH! And…

Captain’s NOTE: Personal note here, to also remember to write that fucking instruction manual for operation of “The Purple Ship.” Which I guess means I also need to write a maintenance manual. But we must have that instruction manual. Prolly should call it “Operation Manual” and/or “Operations Manual” or “Operating Manual” or something like that. Or…I could just write all of those, because we are prolly gonna need them all at some point and or various points at some …point…or points or whatever. What’s the point? I dunno. We’ll find out when we get there.

Now all I need is a crew to read it. Meh. With that in mind…I guess the manual(s) can wait.

Onward.
-cFa
2017.01.28
^Upular | Pogo^

a8f58ac8-6725-4aaa-94dd-b8993a6d8088
Day 003- Entry “C” via Day 004: It’s Sunday January 29th of 2017. I forgot to remember what I remembered to forget. That was not my intent tho. I tried to remember NOT to forget. Maybe if…I simply try and remember…instead of try to remember not to forget. Before you know it, I’ll be forgetting to remember and not remember not to forget. Kinda like now. Now what was I talking about? I forget.

OH YEAH!!! I meant to write some shit here last night. But I got sidetracked by posting some comments on some dude’s blog about his modeling “global warming” using orbs or bubbles or spheres or something. I dunno if he intended to model global warming…or if that was just some side-effect, or some ancillary discovery in a model that was being built for some other purpose. That would be…ironic…eh? Almost as ironic as me writing a book review about a book that I am reading, and yet, commenting about me commenting about someone’s comments about my comments on some random-assed blog somewhere out there in the great unknown void of nothing and nothingness.

I guess I better get to the now via now, instead of living in the past.

I'm getting past this.
-cFa
2017.01.29 for 2017.01.28 via 2017.01.29...or something.
^Deadmau5  / Lai [full version]^

ab03418a779e04b63ebaa815bb708377
Day 004- Entry “A”: OK…so…that wasn’t such a long walk. Just down-arrowed a coupla lines…and here we are.

I took my sleeping bag out back yesterday to pad my soft-scrumptious muscular ass against the cement of the patio. The Sun/Sol was ablaze in the cool day keeping me warm, although it was cold enough that I opted for a long sleeve shirt with a short sleeve shirt underneath. Layering? In cold? Yep…it works wonders. Like the tour guide told me when I was in Inari, Finland…

“It’s not cold. You just don’t have the right equipment.”

Anyway…finally made it through the 6th story, and into the 7th story. The 6th story was a tough read. Not because it was long…it was a great read. It’s because of the subject matter. The author did a good job of making the story readable to someone like me. And who exactly IS someone like me you might ask? Um…a Native American…duh?

A mutt. I am that. A Native American Mutt.

Gotta go read some more now. I wanna finish this book by next weekend if I can.

Letters + Letters = Letters.
-cFa
2017.01.29
^Deadmau5 – Trepid^

il_340x270-1170321647_34iy
Day 004- Entry “B”: I’m gonna try some formatting here real quick. I don’t want to give any spoilers or anything…but well written is well written, and well read is well read. The rest is…subjective.

Local Time = 11:17 CST – I’ve yet to pack it outside to read yet. But I’m about to. I just gotta finish up a few things here, grab the sleeping bag, grab the book, and go sit back down.
Local Time = 11:21 CST – Headed out now. The Sun/Sol is waiting for me. No clouds today. Cept for the lingering ones from yesterday. But those are in my head and elsewhere.
Local Time = 12:49 CST – Halfway point has been passed. Why do I know this? Why do I know these stories? Sound weird? Yep…I agree. But…the past few years have been…odd. Odd considering my odd life. For the most part, I have taken it in my stride. As I am a firm believer in the now. Meaning…nothing surprises me. Yes…I can be and am surprised…but that’s the weird thing about surprises. At least…in my life anyway. “Weird” and “strange” are “the norm” and even…normal.

This book. Why do I know this? Why do I know these stories? As I read them…they are so…familiar. As if, the stories themselves…I already know. It’s the details and the twists and turns that I have…erm…somehow…forgotten? I don’t know these stories…and yet…I do.

All are familiar.

I guess….that sometimes, similar = similarly same.

I just…lessee…how do I explain this?

Someone is trying very hard…to cushion a fall for me. Yes…a fall that has already happened. But…a fall forgotten via grace. A need to know because of…where we are and why I need to remember these things. Ancient things. Recent things. Things that have not yet even happened within the constructs of normal space and spaces and time and times.

Purpose.

I see more than most think I do.
/I bow

Carry on.

Local Time = 13:54 CST – One of two beers left. I have settled into my “furious reading” mode. I can cover acres of previously wooded territory and absorb every molecule of every word of every thought at a pace that would be considered…erm…”blazing” and/or impossible to most. I can hover over a single word, yet continue to read the line(s) below and the line(s) above at the same time, all while digesting the time and times being portrayed both backwards and forwards at the same time. Some might qualify or classify this ability as “a raging torrent”…but not me. I am calm. I am focused on all and nothing in that raging torrent…and the weather is as if the eye of a storm. I am the eye, I am the storm, I am the all, from right here, right now.

A: Yes…unless no…in which case…maybe.

I ponder the stories read, the stories reading, and the stories to come…all at the same time. And yet, somehow, nothing matters but the here and now. My focus…is mine and mine alone. And yet…all matters…from right here…right now. I am who I am.

Like It Or Not…I am here.

Local Time = 14:55 CST – I miss nothing.
Three stories to go.
Local Time = 15:18 CST – Remember why we are here.
We watch.
Local Time = 15:52 CST – One story left to read.
I think I’ll not read it.

No reason nor reasons…just…not gonna read it.

Fin...for now.
-cFa
2017.01.29
^The Reactivitz – Ramble (Jay Lumen Afterlife Remix) [FOOTWORK]^

pick-the-flavor
Day 004- Entry “0”: It appears that this entry will not be necessary.

Not yet anyway.

Maybe never.

We’ll see.

But prolly not.

I’m gonna leave that one…for me.

I bow to you all.

Well done...and thanks.
-cFa
2017.01.29
^Daler Mehndi – Tunak Tunak Tun Video^

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Day 00X- Entry “X”: Shhhhhhhhhh………..

... --- ..., ... --- ..., ... --- ...

... ... ...
--- --- ---

.. .. ..
-- -- --
. . .
- - -

. .
- -

.
-

-cFa
2017.01.29
X.X.X
^Watchmen – The Sound of Silence^
giphy16
MISSION Review Review: This is for you to review.
:-)

-cFa
2017.01.29
^Deadmau5 / Cyclic Redundancy [full version]^
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Thank you for the book young lady…

…and to you and yours.

Great read.

Onward
<3
cYa
cFa
2017.01.29 @ 15:59 CST
^The Cure – Primary^

*******

*’Great read’… I think that means he enjoyed it, Clicky…*

*For the next one?*

I, Sheeple…

It’ll be the Chinese New Year in a few days time, Dear Reader…

*Wrong zodiac, Clicky… May ’67 would make me a ‘Fire Sheep‘…*

I guess this post should start with a Twitter DM convo with Poppy SweetPea, who gave me a story idea for ‘The Underdog Anthology 2: “Rise!” *…/SOBs…*‘…

 

poppy-gives-roob-story-idea-for-easter-underdog-anthology

The Easter edition won’t have a subtitle, that’s just my own fancy. Like I had for the first…

tua_have-a-heart

Anyhoo, I hadn’t given any more thought to Poppy’s ‘Killer Sheep’ suggestion until I read a comment by Elena yesterday evening, over in the Red Universe…

elena-notices-ides-sheep

So I looked up ‘The Ides of March‘…

The day was enthusiastically celebrated among the common people with picnics, drinking, and revelry. One source from late antiquity also places the Mamuralia on the Ides of March. This observance, which has aspects of scapegoat or ancient Greek pharmakos ritual, involved beating an old man dressed in animal skins and perhaps driving him from the city. The ritual may have been a new year festival representing the expulsion of the old year.

Hmm, I thought, I’ve just seen a chap matching that description…

slog-fake-news-trump-barnet-formula

And read elsewhere about his possible scapegoating…

zh-one-big-fat-ugly-bubble

The Deep State’s next move is to pin the coming stock market collapse on Trump. When people think “Greater Depression,” they’ll think “Donald Trump.”

Hang on, I thought, bust…

churchill-bust-ready-to-go

Meanwhile Jenny Burger had also replied to Elena…

Fuck me, I thought, shiny Churchill…

This morning, Frank Davis of the Blue Universe was ‘reflecting‘ on a smoking and drinking politician, the first from the UK to meet with the Prez (then elect)…

“I was especially pleased at his very positive reaction to the idea that Sir Winston Churchill’s bust should be put back in the Oval Office.”

Then to my surprise, I was advised to ‘Chill Winston’ by one of my favourite trolls in the Yellow Universe today

 

pointless-zero-fucks

*Yes, I saw what you posted to Highlander, Clicky… /rolls eyes… ‘sheep’s in wolves clothing’… *

Whilst back on The Underdog’s site…

ubu-boy-guides-and-girl-scouts

… Dan had commented on the sexual proclivities of sheep…

con-siriusy-sheep

*I think that’s meant to say ‘conspiracy‘, Clicky… /lights up…*

 

I think I’ve may have worked out my Easter Anthology story, now, Dear Reader. So until the next time, have a Song ❤

Missive from ‘Merica: Meet the Scar Czar

Greetings Dear Reader, I’m back.

‘So soon?’, I hear you ask, closely followed by ‘Why?’

Ah, all will be revealed. I have received a gift, for sending a gift…

 

Together with the latest missive from The Okie Devil in Texas, see below…

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*Ah, Clicky… /rubs snout… that was very nice of Cade and Jen… /listens quietly… No, you can’t have a pocket knife… /shakes head… You’re a dolphin, you don’t have pockets…*

*******

perfectclumsygar-size_restricted
Since I have decided to write new stuff today, I figured I better get started.
Nothing inspires innovation like competition.
Without competition? Competitive Innovation is simply…innovation.
Prolly not even that innovative.
Buncha fucking worthless hacks.
Afraid of a little competition.
I’m alone and not competing with anyone, so my bullshit is neither competitive nor innovative.
I’m prolly just jerking-off.
Srsly.
I prolly am.

^Modestep – Another Day (Ft. Popeska) (xKore Remix) (Official Video)^

396wu08
Galvanism – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galvanism
Electronegativity – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electronegativity
Electrophysiology – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrophysiology
Electrodiagnostic Medicine – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrodiagnostic_medicine
Nerve Conduction Study – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nerve_conduction_study
Luigi Galvani – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luigi_Galvani
Alessandro Volta – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alessandro_Volta
Electric Potential – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electric_potential
Electric Potential Energy – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electric_potential_energy
Electric Power – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electric_power
Electrical Energy – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrical_energy
Kinetic Energy – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kinetic_energy
Special Relativity – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special_relativity
Energy Development – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Energy_development
Primary Energy – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Primary_energy
Energy Statistics – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Energy_statistics
Energy Accounting – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Energy_accounting
Energy Consumption – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Energy_consumption
Energetics – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Energetics
Energy-Energy Transfer – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Energy#Energy_transfer
Forms of Energy (Redirected from Energy forms) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forms_of_energy
Outline of Physical Science (Redirected from Physical science)- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Outline_of_physical_science
Electricity Generation – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electricity_generation
Heat Engine – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heat_engine
Electrical Conductor – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrical_conductor
Electrical Resistivity and Conductivity – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Electrical_resistivity_and_conductivity
Ohm – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ohm
Metre – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metre
Quantum Hall Effect – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quantum_Hall_effect
Composite Fermion – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Composite_fermion
Fermion – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fermion
Lepton – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lepton
Flavour (Particle Physics) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flavour_(particle_physics)

Now some of you who may have never read any of “my” bullshit before, may be asking yourself…
“Dude! What’s with all of these definitions and bullshit like that?”
I dunno.
Find any of it interesting?
It’s all connected.
Srsly…it is.

^Deadmau5 – Mr G^

My statement there might prompt someone to say something like…
“It’s not ALL connected. Not like YOU mean it.”
Really? Lemme ask you something then…
“What did you tear apart to ‘disconnect” that something that is not connected?”
Or was it like that when you found it?
Where did you find it?
Was it connected then?
Kinda like picking up a grain of sand from a beach somewhere, then taking that grain of sand somewhere far away, and putting it somewhere else entirely.
Do you really think that grain of sand is no longer connected to it’s origin just as much as it is now also connected to it’s destination?
What’s the connection?
Well…what did you omit?
HINT: You.
Yep. Shit is connected in the damnedest of ways.
If you look for something, you WILL find it.

^REZZ – Methodology^

hukebex
Seeing as this is my 8th posting over here at TeH LoL, or I think it is anyway, I thought something special would be in order. Not really, I just thought of it. But now that I have thought of it, I’m gonna have to REALLY think about it, because the bag is out of the cat…so to speak. The horse is in the pasture, and the cart is in the barn, and SOMEONE…I don’t care who…has GOT to get that bag back into that cat. Damned if I’m gonna do it. You have no idea how hard it was to get that bag inside the cat so I could let it out the first time. Plus, the horse don’t like to be reined when they are out grazing and haven’t finished their dinner yet. We’d have to take the cart to the horse. And what in the fuck are gonna do if we get the cart up to the horse, and the horse takes off running? We gonna chase it? We gonna get pissed off and shoot it? Either way, that return trip dragging the cart back to the barn is gonna be a BITCH after all the goings on. Maybe we should just put the cart out to pasture and leave the horse in the barn next time. Prolly find that cat sleeping on top of the bag in the back of the cart.
Q: Does thinking in “warped channels” such as this inspire some to “warp the warped” even further?
A: Anyone really wanna take a stab at this?
See how that works. Something becomes a part of the common vernacular, and the next thing you know? Yeah…GLOBAL…THERMONUCLEAR…WAR!!!
It’s the only option.
I can’t see any other way.
Can you?

^Adam Beyer – Open Up – Drumcode – DC128^

So earlier today, I made a comment on my previous post that was dealing with legal and legality. Especially with respect to applicability. Maybe if you think about “cops not prosecuting other cops” and other types of concepts like that which are fairly widely well-known…we can go from there.
“We The People”…own the country in it’s totality, and we are free to purchase a chunk of it for ourselves from ourselves at our own peril. Which means we’re gonna have to start seriously thinking about this “growth” business. We can take that to all kinds of places…from moles and warts to mergers and acquisitions. Not that there is any connection there or anything. Cause now all of a sudden…fucking EVERYTHING is punitive. And I do mean everything. Up to, and including, punitive fucking you. And not in a good way. So I guess we are going to have to think about and/or talk about…meaning. Or I guess we do. If we’re gonna talk about meaning, that means we need to talk about intent. And if we are gonna talk about meaning and intent, that means we are going to have to start talking about why we are talking at all…so that means reason. So to recap…
Meaning…
Intent…
and…
Reason.
I hope we have a good reason for this. Otherwise, the meaning may get lost in the intent.
I guess that would be…what it all meant.
So yeah…we’re right back to time.
Just in time.
WHEW!!!
That was a close one eh?
Prolly a legal precedent in there somewhere.
LET’S FIND IT!!!

^Sam Paganini – Rave (Original Mix) [DRUMCODE]^

Constituent Quark – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constituent_quark
Current Quark – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Current_quark
Quark Model (Redirected from Valence quark) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quark_model
Valencia CF – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valencia_CF
Quark (Redirected from Valence quark mass) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quark
Hadron – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hadron
Tetraquark – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetraquark
Baryon – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baryon
Valence – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valence
Vale – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vale
Veil – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Veil
Valley – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valley
Dale – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dale
Dell (Disambiguation) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dell_(disambiguation)
Glen – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glen
Color Confinement – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Color_confinement
Color Charge – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Color_charge
Primary Color – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Primary_color
Cone Cell – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cone_cell
Quantum Number – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quantum_number
Flavour (Particle Physics)-Flavour Quantum Numbers – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flavour_(particle_physics)#Flavour_quantum_numbers
Lepton Number – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lepton_number
Neutrino Oscillation (Redirected from Neutrino oscillations) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neutrino_oscillation
Charm Quark – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charm_quark
Charmed Baryons – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charmed_baryons
Fermilab (Redirected from SEgmented Large-X baryon spectrometer EXperiment) – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fermilab
Super Proton Synchrotron – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Super_Proton_Synchrotron
List of Super Proton Synchrotron Experiments – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Super_Proton_Synchrotron_experiments
W and Z Bosons – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W_and_Z_bosons
Bubble Chamber – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bubble_chamber
INSPIRE-HEP – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/INSPIRE-HEP

I wonder how much it would cost me to get a “Certified Physicist Card” on the black market? OH YEAH!!! I forgot…you gotta go to college/university, and you can get an “official” certified physicist card. Just be careful which school you go to. Some colleges/universities are “more certified”..than others. Plus, if you EVER cheated on ANYTHING at…fucking ALL, doesn’t that kinda…nullify the result?
Just askin.

^Dyno – Vera – Hell Yeah^

giphy
Now that the holidays are over…I just gotta ask…
Q: Get anything good?
A: ?¿?
A trip to the hospital and some stitches maybe?
I hereby declare War on Scars.
I will be your Scar Czar.
Sounds creepy…eh?

^Crookers – What up Y’all^

I was cruising the the various synchrowhatever blogs today, and noticed that someone asked the question…
“Where were you at midnight on January 1, 2017?”
My initial reaction was…”WAIT DUMMY!!! Midnight on January 1? That was last night…right?”
But as I thought about it, I remembered that I had been thinking about night and day with respect to the rise and fall of the sun over the last few days. This time of year where I am, the sun is WAY the fuck south of me, and it’s really odd in the morning when it comes up, and it’s really odd in the evening when it goes down. It travels on this parabolic arc that almost resembles an EKG type sinus rhythm type of movement…it kinda slides across the sky, then pops up for a ways, then pops back down, only to slide back down below the horizon. It makes for some absolutely fabulous sunrises and sunsets. As a matter of fact, some mornings…it’s hard to differentiate the difference between the two unless you are familiar with direction relative to your location and your location relative to your location relative to you, and when you are where you are when you are. It may sound like I am intentionally trying to be either clever or confusing or both there. But I’m not. It makes sense in my head, because everything is always moving…even when you aren’t.
So to make a long story longer…irrespective of when the day starts/stops or whatever relative to the clock? Irrespective of the date, whether it was December 31st, or January 1st, or January 2nd…I was asleep. If I’m asleep…I don’t give a shit where I am. I’M ASLEEP!!! I care more about when I am than where I am.

^Caravan Palace – Dramophone^

x6hhh3z
WOAH NELLY!!! We have a question from the Whatever However HOTLINE!!!
The first one I’ve gotten since posting my shiznit here at TeH LoL!!!
Not really. I actually got one the other day…but I forgot about it, and I can’t remember what it was.
/me shrugs
Q: Cade, how long are you gonna make this fucking post?!?!?!?
A: I dunno. How ever long it is. I figure that learning has no limits. From there, we are limited by our limits with respect to sharing what we have learned, how, and with whom. I just start writing when the urge strikes, and stop when the urge strikes. It’s pretty simple really. The writing part is the easy part. Finding images and songs and inspiration and whatnot? Meh…sometimes a little challenging. Because ALL of these things inspire me. The music is usually an ambient distraction that encourages me to keep listening/keep writing. The images? I see things. Most of the time, prolly the same shit you see. I just try and blend some cool music and cool images with my shitty writing, and figure it all balances out in the end. And the best part? YOU get to decide what that “balance” is…not me. I just work here. 😉

^Moby – Bodyrock (Hybrid’s Bodyshock Remix)^

igqiz
Do you like it when someone tells you to stop doing what you are doing?
I didn’t think so.
Do you like it when someone tells you that you are doing too much of what you are doing which is something that you enjoy doing?
I didn’t think so.
Do you like it when someone tells you to start doing what you aren’t doing?
That’s what I thought.
Do you like it when someone tells you that you aren’t doing enough of what you aren’t doing enough of which is something that you do not enjoy doing?
That’s what I thought.
Do you like when someone does something that told you that whatever it was that you did or did not doing wasn’t done cause like…it wasn’t fun…or maybe it was…wait…what in the FUCK was I talking about and/or where was I going with this shit?
Any thoughts?
No?
I didn’t think so.

^Slander & YOOKiE – After All (ft. Jinzo) (Habstrakt Remix)^

Time can be confusing when you rely on “the clock” and the clock alone. Cause it seems like everything after that? The clock is only relative to a reference that is based on everything EXCEPT time, all under the auspices on how much time it took to do the whatever it was/is that you are/were doing. It’s kinda like your past. Not “the” past…your past. Because it is your past. Yours all yours. It’s as responsible for you as you are, as you are, where and when you are…good and bad and whatever…it’s what has coalesced to make you you. And it will continue to do so. Hell, you could prolly repurpose a nuclear weapon to give radical haircuts and bitchin sun tans that do no more damage than that which a radical haircut can do in some certain situations. All we gotta do is get someone smart on it. Thinking a bit contextually about firearms…it’s really not that hard to do. Especially if you always and forever, think of firearms as a weapon or as weapons. Because that’s what they are, and that’s what they do, and that’s what they were designed to do and/or can do…kill. Even if you are just killing the living shit out of a paper target at a firing range, all while killing the shit out of your free time and financial reserves. Guns/Firearms are expensive in many ways. I dunno. Maybe some day, there will be no more of them because there will no longer be a need. I know that I don’t own any, but I have. And the only time that I would ever contemplate trying to take a firearm away from someone, is if they had one of the damn things shoved right in my face. No wonder “gun nuts” are always like…”Want My Guns? Come And Get Em'”…not that I blame them. You can’t legislate a person or their behavior. But a person can do that themselves for themselves. I guess…freedom might just be free after all.

^The Crystal Method – Vice – Soundtrack^

988734_o
Astrophysics Data System

I wonder how some of these large organizations would like it if all of their data was taken away from them? I wonder who made THAT decision? I guess it just kinda makes me wonder as to when proprietary data becomes proprietary. Cause when it comes to ownership, I think prolly some may be more owned than others. Maybe even not owned at all…because it’s owned by all. Kind of a many to many kinda relational database type ownership kinda thingie or something like that. You know…a developer’s worst nightmare. Many to many relationships are…difficult. Not impossible…just…difficult.
So much for “the private sector” being the end all be all answer to everyfuckingthing eh?

^London Grammar – Strong [Official Video]^

face_kick
8

c)Y(a
(cFa)

^THE CRYSTAL METHOD breakbeat electronica DJ set in The Lab LA^

*******

*Oh that’s absolutely a NO, Clicky…*

 

‘Secret Santa’: 2 Sleeps to Go (Part 2)

And we’re back!

smoking-bender

Sit back and enjoy, Dear Reader, the conclusion to ‘Secret Santa’ 😀

*******

Josie lived in the opposite direction to me, but I didn’t care. As the taxi pulled up outside I could see she lived in a block of flats. I paid the driver, remembering to get a receipt of course, and made my way to the entrance. I pressed the button for her flat.

The intercom burped into life. “Hello?” sputtered a tinny voice.

“Hello, Josie? It’s Harriet from work. I’ve got your Secret Santa gift here. Can I deliver it?”

There was a pause before she replied, “Oh, Okay. I’ll buzz you in.” The intercom gave a mournful wail and the front door clicked. I pushed it open and entered.

Josie lived on the second floor. The building didn’t have a lift, so I was slightly breathless by the time I’d climbed four flights of stairs, carrying a gift that seemed to be getting heavier by the minute. I found her waiting for me, stood in front of her open door. Like a pink Venus she rose in my field of vision: first fluffy socks, rolled to the ankle, followed by shapely naked legs, topped by tight shorts with added camel toe crevice, completed by a cropped tee-shirt that emphasised her toffee smooth midriff and perfectly rounded breasts. The sight took away my remaining breath and left me feeling faint and weak at the knees.

“Oh my god, that’s huge!” Josie cried, making her way forward to help me. “Gosh, are you alright, Harry? You’re white as a sheet. Do you want to come in and have a drink?”

I took a long, deep breath and nodded. The universe seemed to have relented and fortune was now smiling on me. I followed her into her flat, doing my best to hide the grin on my face. “Where do you want me to put it?” I asked her. “The present, I mean…” I added slyly.

Josie giggled at my double entendre. “Oh, anywhere in there will do.” She pointed in the direction of the living room, then closed the front door behind us.

I placed the box on the living room floor and looked around. A half full bottle of wine and empty glass sat on the coffee table. Her TV was mounted on the wall and playing some festive Hollywood crap. The volume was turned down, sparing me from having to listen to its seasonally cheerful inanities.

“We didn’t want you to miss out on your secret Santa gift,” I said shrugging off my coat. Josie took it and my handbag then disappeared back into the hall.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it,” Josie called. “Was it a good night? I got home from work to find the washing machine had flooded. By the time I’d cleared it up I really wasn’t in the mood for socialising.”

“That’s understandable. It was alright. I’ve had better,” I called back getting comfy on the sofa. This one is already starting to get better, I thought picking up the wine bottle and studying the label. Shiraz, my favourite.

Josie returned carrying another wine glass and I filled both from the bottle. “Cheers, Harry! Merry Christmas!” she said chinking my glass.

I took a mouthful of wine and swallowed. “Mmm, nice. Merry Christmas, Josie. Are you going to open your present?”

Josie gave a girlish squeal and sat down cross legged in front of her wrapped box in one graceful, fluid movement. The elasticated fabric of her shorts stretched, barely managing to cover the modesty of her plump but righteous arse cheeks. She pulled her hair back from her face and let it hang over one shoulder.

Just as earlier in the evening, I could feel the blood pump furiously through my veins, only this time it was directed to a completely different area of my body. “Josie, can I use your bathroom,” I asked.

“Sure, it’s the door on the left before the bedroom,” she said as her hands caressed the smooth and shiny wrapping paper.

The bathroom was pink – obviously her favourite colour – and smelt of roses. I peed and washed my hands, then splashed water over my already moist pussy and gave it a rub with a fluffy pink towel hanging next to the sink. No harm freshening it up just in case, I thought. I checked my teeth in the mirror for any untoward particles of Christmas dinner and stuck out my tongue – stained red from wine but not furry. Good.

When I returned, I found wrapping paper and cardboard discarded on the floor, but Josie herself was nowhere to be seen. I retraced my steps and found her in the kitchen, bent over her microwave and displaying even more of those sweet arse cheeks of hers.

“What are you cooking?” I asked once I’d drank my fill.

She rushed over and gave me a hug, encircling me with her slender arms and pressing her breasts against me. I felt hard nipples push into my skin and gave a silent pray to Jesus for the invention of chocolate.

“Harry! Oh my god I can’t believe someone bought me a chocolate fountain. Chocolate is so much fun!”

The contraption I’d bought her sat on the kitchen table, plugged in but empty, its shiny tiers waiting to be filled. I breathed in the vanilla scent of her luxurious hair as I hugged her back, gently rubbing my own throbbing breasts against hers. “Ooh, a chocolate fountain!” I exclaimed. “Lucky you!”

The microwave pinged and Josie turned away, opened the door, and removed a bag of melted chocolate with her fingertips. Grabbing a pair of scissors, she snipped the corner off and poured a stream of warm chocolate into the fountain’s bottom tier.

“I’ve always wanted one of these,” she said as she threw me a smile and switched the machine on. After a few seconds, a flood of chocolate gushed up through the top tier and cascaded down smoothly, enveloping the tiers below.

“Now that is a thing of beauty,” I said admiringly.

“Yes it is,” Josie replied and stuck her finger into the rich stream of chocolate. She pulled it out and put it in her mouth, sucking hard. Her elfin features contorted with pleasure. “Oh my god, Harry, you’ve got to try this!” she said invitingly.

Tentatively, I approached the gently humming machine. Encouraged by her ecstatic gasps of pleasure, I decided to make my move. I poked two fingers into the silky, warm stream, cooing at the sensation. I pulled them out and sucked on my index finger, holding the middle finger out to Josie, my other hand poised beneath to catch the drips. “Mmm… more?”

To my amazement, she took my dribbling middle finger in her mouth and sucked hard. I could feel her tongue lap at the sweet gloop and marvelled at the innocent look of pleasure on her face as she sucked the chocolate off. With our lips just inches apart, I reached up with my free hand and gently stroked the underside of her chin.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?”

Looming in the doorway of the kitchen stood Alfie. Josie and I both jumped. Me guiltily.

“Alfie. I didn’t hear you come in. What you doing home so early?” Josie asked her hulking boyfriend. Up close, the Easter Island resemblance was uncanny: he looked rock hard, menace etched into his face.

“WHO THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH?” he demanded of Josie, who flushed. “WHAT THE FUCK YOU DOING?”

Shit! I thought, I need to get out fast and in one piece.

“I think there’s a misunderstanding. I’m Harriet from work. I’ve just dropped Josie’s Secret…” I started to tell him before he shut me up with a stinging slap with the back of his hand. I felt my incisors rip through my bottom lip as my head rocked back. Blood sprayed out across the pristine white tee-shirt that covered his chiseled pecs.

“YOU TRYING TO GET IN MY GIRLFRIEND’S KNICKERS, YOU DIRTY FUCKING LESBO?” he screamed at me.

I felt warm blood fill my mouth and mingle with the residual taste of chocolate. I held my hand up to my face and cringed. “My mowff…” I spluttered.

“No Alfie!” Josie explained, “Harry’s just a work colleague.”

“THEN WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS FOR?” he yelled, pulling my ‘Big Boy’ butt plug Secret Santa gift from behind his back. I’d put it in my handbag, but it must have fallen out. “WERE YOU GONNA RAM IT UP HER ARSE, YOU FILTHY CUNT?”

Josie looked at me aghast. “Harry?”

“No, I can eshplain…” I started to say but didn’t get the chance. Alfie’s meaty hand grabbed the back of my neck and spun me round, pushing me face first into the chocolate fountain. I felt the warm chocolate flood over my eyes and nose.

As my nostrils and mouth filled with molten sweetness, I could hear Josie yell and plead with her boyfriend: “Stop it Alfie! It’s Secret Santa. Stop it, please!”

My final thought before passing out was Jesus! Death by chocolate. This is no fun at all…

*******

microwave-fry

*/sigh… I wrote it for the Christmas Underdog Anthology, Clicky. It’s not supposed to have a happy ending, for goodness sakes… /rolls eyes…*

Well, Dear Reader, I hope you’ve enjoyed my first Christmas tale at the LoL. If you liked this story, I have others in The Underdog Anthology… Although, to be brutally honest, the other authors’ contributions in it are so much better than mine 😉

Merry Christmas to you and have a Song… ❤

 

 

 

‘Secret Santa’: 2 Sleeps to Go (Part 1)

Dear Reader, at last it is Friday and the day the F A Kontrell office Christmas shindig. In this two-post conclusion to my Christmas tale, we’ll find out if Harry’s devious machinations to woo the fragrant Josie actually bear fruit…

*/rolls eyes… Way too much, Clicky… Come on, just relax, put your fins up and let me tell the story…*

So, for your pleasure, the fourth installment of ‘Secret Santa’ in three, two, one…

*******

Friday evening seemed to take forever to roll around, but at last I found myself, suitable attired in sartorial elegance, at the pub the Fat Kontroller had selected to host the evening’s events. He’d hired the dining room, but most of us were gathered at the festively decorated bar while we waited for the stragglers to arrive. The pub was called The Exchange, a converted bank, with high vaulted ceiling and polished wooden floors. The Secret Santa gifts had been transferred from the office by Shazza – who else? – and were piled up in the dining room. The heap of presents was dominated by one conspicuously large parcel with a gift tag that read ‘To the gorgeous Josie, with lots of love from your Secret Santa xxx’.

Unfortunately, the object of my affections turned out to be one of the stragglers and was nowhere to be seen. I lounged against the bar with one eye on the door and the other on my watch while I swigged my drink, trusting the alcohol to sedate the butterflies that had congregated in my gut. Around me, my colleagues made small talk about work and gossiped about the latest office romances. The former was tedious beyond belief, so I tuned in on the latter just in case I heard Josie’s name mentioned. Or my own for that matter. Damn! I thought. Where the fuck is she?

A stream of cold wind blew in as the door opened and everyone looked up expectantly. The Fat Kontroller stood in the doorway, beaming and looking natty in DJ and bow tie. The man loved to make an entrance. I caught the barmaid’s eye and ordered a double scotch, his favourite tipple. It arrived just as he reached the bar.

“Harry! Is that for me?” he asked and downed the drink before waiting for an answer. He smiled at the barmaid and indicated for another. “Splendid! Let’s get this party started!”

“Oh, are we all here then?” I said as nonchalantly as I could. We were most definitely not all here; Josie had still not arrived.

He finished the second drink and looked around. Shazza appeared as if by magic and hovered at his elbow.

“HR Josie called, Mr Kontrell,” she said with a glance in my direction. “She can’t make it tonight. Her washing machine has flooded or something.” On hearing the news, the butterflies in my stomach instantly disappeared, leaving a hollow as cavernous as the pub we stood in.

The Fat Kontroller frowned at the news. “Oh, that’s a shame. She’ll miss a cracking evening,” he said, then shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well, can’t be helped I suppose. Come on Sharon, lead the way,” he said as he grabbed her fleshy bare shoulders and steered her toward the dining room.

I followed them through the crowd with leaden legs. When I reached the dining table I discovered that the seating plan had placed Josie in the seat next to mine. It felt as if the universe itself was conspiring to rub salt in my wounds. Shit! Fuck! Bollocks!

The seasonal set meal tasted like ash in my mouth as it progressed through starter, mains and dessert. I tried to look interested as the conversation swirled around me, but all I could think about was the empty seat beside me. Eventually, after coffee and petite fours had been served, the Fat Kontroller stood up and announced the start of the Secret Santa gift-giving ritual. Shazza served as his assistant: she passing him the gifts and him calling out the names. One by one we trooped up to collect them.

Eventually, he got to me. It was inevitable really. “Harry! Where’s my PA? Harriet!”

I scraped my chair back and wandered up to the top table. The Fat Kontroller was holding a gift. Not a voucher-shaped envelope that I was expecting, but a rectangular box wrapped in shiny silver paper and curly blue ribbon.

“Harry,” he beamed, handing it over, “this is for you.”

I was dumbstruck. Somebody had bought me a proper gift. “Thank you,” I said, turning it over in my hands.

“Well open it then,” Shazza urged excitedly. “I love shecret Shanta pressies,” she slurred.

“Quite sure you’ve had enough wine, Shazza?”

“Nearly,” she hiccuped and giggled into her hand. “Go on open it.”

I pulled at the tight ribbon and eased it off. Something inside the box rattled. Fuck! Somebody actually bought me a present, I thought as I started to rip off the paper. And then I saw what it was and my face fell.

“OH MY GOD!” Shazza shrieked with barely contained glee. “SECRET SANTA GAVE HARRY A BUTT PLUG!!!”

The room fell silent for a moment, and then the laughter began, triggered by a booming guffaw from the Fat Kontroller. All the blood in me seemed to leave my limbs, rush to my face, and combust there. I looked up into the Fat Kontroller’s eyes. They twinkled with mirth, unlike Shazza’s which glowed with something else altogether.

“Somebody must think you’re a pain in the arse, Harry,” she said coolly before joining in the merriment with exaggerated howls or laughter.

She set me up… the fucking bitch!!!

Slowly, I turned toward the room and held the ‘Big Boy’ butt plug for all to see. “Thank you. Thank you, Secret Santa. If I ever find out who you are, I’ll know exactly where to put this,” I shouted.

I walked back to my seat, still holding it aloft, like a prize fighter displaying a glittering belt. This elicited further laughs and a round of applause, which slightly mitigated the fucking disaster the evening had turned into. I sat down and pointedly read the packaging before putting it in my handbag. I downed my drink and wondered how long I had to stay before getting the fuck out of there.

Not long as it turned out. Once the Secret Santa ritual was out of the way, those with babysitters to relieve began to make their excuses. It was the only perk of having children that I could see, so decided to slip out with them in the rush for the door. I rang for a taxi and started to gather my coat and bag.

“Harry!” the Fat Kontroller called and beckoned me over. Thankfully, Shazza was nowhere to be seen. If there was any justice in the world then I hoped she’d laughed herself sick and was puking her ring up in the toilets. “Leaving already, are we?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m driving up to mum and dad’s tomorrow,” I lied, “early start, you know.”

The Fat Kontroller looked at me kindly. “You handled that very well, Harry. That was very naughty of somebody. Are you getting a taxi?”

“Yeah, it’s on it’s way.”

“Here,” he said pulling fifty pounds from his wallet. “Shazza!” he boomed and mouthed the word ‘receipt’ to me.

Shazza appeared from thin air again, still grinning at her prank. She was obviously not the complete air-head I’d supposed her to be. “Yes Mr Kontrell?”

“You know where Josie lives. What’s the address of our missing HR manager? Harry here is going to drop her secret Santa gift off on the way home, aren’t you Harry?” His eyes twinkled.

“Yes,” I informed Shazza slowly, following his cue. “I’ll take HR Josie’s gift to her and tell her all about it. Let her know exactly what she missed this evening.”

Was that a gulp from Shazza? I hoped so, but I was too excited at the opportunity that had suddenly presented itself. I would get to see Josie and give her my gift. I might even get a cup of coffee for my troubles. I played it cool and strode off to collect Josie’s superbly wrapped gift, whilst the Fat Kontroller handed Shazza his pen and a discarded cracker joke so that she could write the address down.

We bade farewell, wishing each other a happy Christmas, and then I left to wait for my taxi…

*******

Don’t miss the exciting conclusion to ‘Secret Santa’, which follows on in just a bit…

*/lights up fag and waits nervously… You know, Clicky, if this was on telly there’d be adverts now… /drags… Perhaps I should mention The Underdog Anthology and Cultish… /blows smoke… What do you think?*

clicky-smiles

 

Fumer Satire… A Cultish Thing

Er, I sat hear… smoking *…/takes drag* …Thinking about how to start this post, Dear Reader…

humour-table

*’Amendment’? Yeah… ‘Morals and manners’? Most Definitely… ‘Accentuation’? …/wipes tear from eye… Doubly definitely, Clicky… ‘The self-satisfied’? I dunno about that, but I laughed like a drain…*

… See, my friend Hugo has written a novel…

cultish-hugo-stone-front-cover

… And it’s all about SEX…

cultish-hugo-stone-back-cover

 

… I started reading it back in June when Hugo confessed to me that a short story he’d written for The Underdog Anthology, had grown into something somewhat bigger…

hugo-dm-1

*/lights another smoke…*

…I jumped at the chance to read it – I was struggling to write my own story contributions (writing horror fiction doesn’t come naturally to me)…

hugo-dm-2

*/taps off ash…* 

… What I read, blew me away. I mean, I knew he could write, but what he’d written was incredibly sharp…

hugo-dm-3

*/drags some more…*

… Mind you, it needed some copy editing, so I offered to do that for him…

hugo-dm-4

… For the next month, Hugo sent me his output daily, sometimes twice, three times daily…

u-lucky-girl

*/stubs out butt… Yes, yes I am Clicky…*

… and I corrected typos, made some suggestions (not always taken but always considered) and generally helped my friend Hugo birth his first novel…

hugo-dm-5

*/lights up… Too fucking right, Clicky…*

… Hugo then sent his completed manuscript of ‘Cultish’ to my friend Leggy, to see if he would consider publishing it…

leg-iron-books

*/take puff and rests cigarette in ashtray… You know what Clicky, I’m so happy to have been able to help my two online chums in their budding ventures, I fancy having a little dance…*

*Nice! …/retrieves fag and resumes smoking…*

So, Dear Reader, I strongly suggest you get your hands on a copy of ‘Cultish’ by Hugo Stone… It’s ridiculously funny… It really, really is… And have a Song…

Kid Biskit – The Fastest Cookie Muncher in the West…

Yesterday, the LoL received a special delivery…

*That’s not me, Clicky… Um… /pulls face… similar hair but knot me…* 

My eyes lit up upon seeing the three copies of the book I’d ask Leggy for as part payment for my story contributions, but there was something else in the parcel that made my mouth water as well…

*******

Digression for any Yanks looking in – what I’m about to describe is probably more familiar to you as ‘cookies’, and is pronounced…

*Hmm… well only some of them will pronounce it that particular manner, Clicky…*

biscuit (n.) respelled early 19c. from bisket (16c.), ultimately (besquite, early 14c.) from Old French bescuit (12c.), literally “twice cooked;” altered under influence of cognate Old Italian biscotto, both from Medieval Latin biscoctum, from Latin (panis) bis coctus “(bread) twice-baked;” see bis- + cook (v.). U.S. sense of “soft bun” is recorded from 1818.

*/holds up hand… They should only be limp after you’ve dipped them, Clicky…*

*Well, Hobnobs are notoriously difficult dunkers to debunk… /squints… And don’t you dare move onto Jaffa Cakes… This digression is over, Clicky… Capisce?*

*******

I knew they were coming; I’d been teased with photos of them a couple of days before…

Poppy Sweetpea’s chocolate chip cookies (OK I said ‘cookie’…
Poppy Sweetpea’s whole almond Jew cakes, sprinkled in cinnamon and sugar (OK, not really cakes…)
Poppysweet Pea’s cocoa and orange snails and German nougat and hazelnut ovals
Poppy Sweet Pea’s chocolate orange wedges
Poppy Sweetpea’s Penguin and Hedgehogs made of vanilla and almonds

But there is nothing like snapping the lid off a tupperware box and breathing in the waft of homemade biscuity goodness, escaping from inside…

biscuit-remains

*/huffs… Yeah!*

Of course I sampled one of each of Poppy Sweet Pea’s delightful creations straightaway, Dear Reader – completely delish! – but then stupidly left the remainder in the box, in the kitchen. Yes, the Kit Chinwag room. How the fuck could I forget where Thing 2‘s first port of call upon arrival from school is? It was a massacre…

So, to the wonderful Poppy Sweet Pea, with thanks from Kid Biskit, one of his all time favourite tunes…

And a Song, with thanks, from me…

*Hit it, Clicky!*

 

 

‘Secret Santa’: 11 Sleeps to Go

Erm… as it turns out, I’m now going to be quite busy tomorrow. So, Dear Reader, here is the second installment of ‘Secret Santa‘ today. Enjoy!

*******

Unexpectedly, Josie called me the next day. She said she wanted a ‘quiet word’, and all I could do was imagine her hot breath in my ear. We agreed to rendezvous in the empty conference room, so I took the opportunity to visit the bathroom en route. Just to freshen up, adjust my underwear, that sort of thing.

She was already there when I arrived, sitting at the head of the table. Her long legs were crossed and her business skirt had ridden up to expose smooth, tanned thigh. She must use an all over sunbed because her tight-fitting, white blouse contrasted nicely with the colour of her caramel cleavage, making the most of her small but perky tits.

“Thank you for coming to speak with me, Harry. I realise you’re very busy.” She waited until I’d closed the door and sat down before continuing. “I need to speak to you about Shazza.”

“Sharon on reception?” I asked with an innocent face.

“Yes. I’m afraid she’s made a complaint against you. Apparently you were very rude to her yesterday.” Josie’s tone and steady gaze was meant to impart the seriousness of the situation. It just made me want to cover her plump lips with my own even more.

“Josie…I don’t know what to say. I’m…Is this about Secret Santa? I know I was a bit short with Shazza, but I was extremely busy at the time finalising our bid for the Clovis account. So this…is this an official complaint?” I enquired, feigning immense concern. Little Shazza’s had the nerve to make a complaint? That’ll be the day.

Josie looked flustered at my reply. A splash of humility can work wonders when you have as prickly a reputation as mine. “Er, no. Not an official complaint per se, but she mentioned the incident to me in private conversation. I thought I should have a word. I could see she was very upset.”

Not an official complaint, then? Interesting. “Let me assure you, Josie, that I’ll apologise to Shazza at the earliest possible opportunity.” I reached over and covered her delicate but beautifully tanned hand with my own and let it rest there.

“Look, I realise I can come off as a bit abrupt but I have a very stressful job. I’ll try to be a little more conciliatory in the future.”

She looked relieved. “Thank you, Harry. I realise Mr Kontrell can be a very demanding boss…”

I didn’t let her finish. “Josie, you’ve only been with F A Kontrell for, what, a couple of months now? We’re an expanding business, so one should expect there to be a little pain.” Time for a little self deprecation. “That would be me,” I said with a cutesy finger wave.

Her giggle was delightful. So was the way she used her free hand to push a lock of shiny, black hair that had fallen across her face, back over her ear. Her other hand was still trapped beneath my own and she seemed in no particular hurry to retrieve it. I pulled my hand away and sat back in my chair.

“So, how are you finding it here? Are you glad you joined us?” I asked with a rare smile.

Josie smiled back. “Yes. Everybody is very nice and, like you say, it is very busy.”

“Yes,” I replied as I sat back and crossed my legs. “It’ll soon be the 23rd and then we can enjoy Christmas.”

Josie recrossed her own legs, flashing some deliciously tanned inside thigh. An idea came to me.

“Actually, I’m not really fond of the Secret Santa tradition. I never know what to get the person,” I sighed.

“Oh, well who have you got to buy for?” she asked.

I gave her a look of bemused befuddlement. “I can’t tell you that, it’s a secret.”

She frowned and thought for a moment, pulling her shoulders back just enough for me to see a hint of lacy bra, as the buttons on her blouse gaped.

“Without some idea of who it’s for… gift vouchers?” She offered apologetically.

I grimaced. “Oh god no, I get those every year.”

“You poor thing, that’s so boring.” Josie’s hand, the one I’d been touching, moved toward me.

“Maybe you can help me,” I mused, shifting my weight forward. I lent my elbows on the table and leaned in conspiritorially toward her. “You may have noticed the office here is predominantly female. Now I won’t confirm it’s a woman I have to buy a gift for but it’s a strong possibility. I’d like to get something more…personal,” I confided in a hushed tone.

“Aw, that’s really sweet,” she replied, leaning in closer and cocking her head to one side. “How about perfume? That’s personal and functional.”

“Perfume?” I appeared to weigh up the idea. “I don’t know, I like that idea but I wouldn’t know one perfume from another without asking first, and that would give the game away. I think I’d like to get this person something fun.”

“Chocolates,” she offered emphatically.

“Er, chocolates are fun?”

“You can never have too much fun with chocolate,” Josie replied with a wink.

Saucy minx! “Well, you’re lucky in that you have a lovely physique, Josie. Not everyone is as blessed as you,” I countered.

She blushed. Dear sweet Josie, I could have eaten her up right there and then.

“Okay then,” she continued, “it has to be personal, functional and definitely fun… although not chocolates or perfume.”

“How exactly are chocolates functional?” I asked with a quizzical lift of my eyebrows.

“Er, to have fun.”

“Right, I will remember that,” I replied with a low chuckle. “Personal, functional, fun…chocolate is optional. You’ve been a great help, Josie. Thank you.”

She stood up and I allowed my eyes to wander over her body for a moment, admiring the way her hipbones thrust forward and accentuated the tautness of her flat tummy. She could have been a model. She should have been a model. It’s not often an angel crosses your path.

“And you’ll apologise to Shazza?”

Would I fuck! “Of course. Consider it done.”

We left the room together. I held the door open with one hand, cradling the small of her back with the other as I ushered her out before me. She was a honey all right and I knew exactly what Secret Santa would be giving her this Christmas…

*******

Part three will be along at the start of next week, Dear Reader. Until then, have a Song…

*Ha! Good choice, Clicky… /thinks… this would be an ideal opportunity to remind Dear Reader they can get a copy of The Underdog Anthology immediately on Kindle…*

*Oh you… /blushes…*

 

‘Secret Santa’: 12 Sleeps to Go

secret (n.) late 14c., from Latin secretus “set apart, withdrawn; hidden, concealed, private,” past participle of secernere “to set apart, part, divide; exclude,” from se-“without, apart,” properly “on one’s own” (see se-) + cernere “separate” (see crisis).

As an adjective from late 14c., from French secret, adjective use of noun. Open secret is from 1828. Secret agent first recorded 1715; secret service is from 1737; secret weapon is from 1936.

Dear Reader, I’m given to understand that sales of The Underdog Anthology have been ‘brisk’, which is very heartening – it’s an ideal stocking filler or Secret Santa gift…

*/sharp intake of breath… That’s a good idea, Clicky! I could definitely do that… /pats snout…*

I have a Christmas tale that I wrote for the ‘Christmas Underdog Anthology’, but that won’t now happen until next year. So here, Dear Reader, for your entertainment is the first installment of ‘Secret Santa’ by Roo B. Doo…

a-storyteller-needs-a-pipe

*******

I’d been watching her do the rounds all afternoon. She was shirking again, moving from desk to desk as slowly as she possibly could, irritating the hell out of everyone with her silly bloody ritual. Eventually, she got round to me. It was inevitable really. I gritted my teeth and braced myself for the explosion of seasonal bonhomie.

“Hi Harry! How’s it going?” Shazza gaily chirped from behind a stack of reports I’d neatly stacked along the edge of my desk. She was gripping some red velvet tat between nervous fat fingers.

“Shaz. What do you want?” I replied. For once my curtness was justified; I was actually quite busy formatting and pivoting tables on my computer screen.

Shazza briefly frowned but quickly recovered. “It’s Christmas in two weeks,” she smiled brightly, holding up her hands to reveal the tatty Santa hat she’d been holding.

“Really? Who’d have thought? Why don’t you come back in two weeks then?”

I really was very busy and not in the mood for another of the ‘bonding’ activities that the Fat Kontroller dreamed up to keep our airhead receptionist entertained. If you’re in need of a raffle, bake-off, dress up, dress down or sweepstake, especially if it’s for charity, then Shazza’s your man.

“Ooh, looks like we’ve found our Scrooge!” she squealed for the benefit of the entire office. “We all have to play our part, Harry,” she continued in that irritatingly positive sing-song voice of hers, “and I’ve been chosen to organise Secret Santa this year.”

I sat back in my chair and swivelled round to face her. “Sharon, you’re chosen to organise Secret Santa every year. Look, I’m up to my arse in it at the moment, I don’t have time for this shit.”

I must have hurt her feelings, because she suddenly came over all professional. “You are required to select a name from the hat to buy a gift for. Minimum £10 spend. Wrap and label it with your recipient’s name, and place in under the office tree, no later than 23rd December as they will distributed at the Christmas party at The Exchange that night.”

She thrust the Santa hat toward me. It was the same cheap hat she used last year. A threadbare velour Poundland job that was probably past its ‘sell by’ date on the day she bought it. Its fur trim was meant to be white but was tinged grey from the entry and exit of dozens of grimy wrists. I really didn’t want to put my hand in there, but the sooner I got it over with the sooner I’d get Shazza out of my face. I winced and took the plunge.

“You do know my great-grandfather was half Jewish, don’t you? Next year, Shaz, I’d appreciate it if you used a yamaka, so my cultural sensibilities aren’t infringed.”

The hat felt empty. I rummaged around until I felt a slip of folded paper that had worked its way down into the pointy end. I pulled it out, looked at it, and held it up for Shazza to see. “It says ‘Harry’,” I sighed.

“No! You have to buy for somebody else!” she cried, snatching back the hat and peering inside. Her dismay quickly diminished as she spied another slip of folded paper wedged in its grubby depths. She took it out and handed it to me.

I opened it out, read it, put it in my pocket and turned my attention back to my PC screen.

“Who did you get?” Shazza asked excitedly.

“It’s secret,” I replied, focusing on the numbers on my screen.

She looked crestfallen. “Don’t you want to know who’ll get you?”

I slid the slip of paper with my name on across the desk toward her. “No. Now piss off. We must be missing tons of important phone calls because you’re fannying about over here. We’re a very busy company. Chop, chop.”

Shazza scowled, turned on her heels and left. A few heads from neighbouring workstations bobbed up and quickly lowered. People walking away from my desk in a huff is not an uncommon event.

I thought about the name in my pocket. I hate the Secret Santa ritual – in the two years I’d been at the company I’d selected the Fat Kontroller from the hat on both occasions. The score so far was two bottles of malt whiskey for him and two £10 gift vouchers for me. They were from Boots and had all the hallmarks of an afterthought purchased whilst out buying haemorrhoid cream or a sandwich.

I hadn’t gotten my boss this year though. No, I’d picked out Josie’s name instead. Lithe limbed Josie in HR, with an elfin face, raven hair and legs up to her armpits. She was new to the company and the only honey in the office I’d even consider getting my fingers sticky with. Unfortunately, she came with baggage in the form of a muscle-bound boyfriend called Alfie, who chauffeured her to and from the office. With the visage of an Easter Island statue and phyisque large enough to affect gravity, Alfie would have no problem effecting profound change on the features of any love-struck suitor.

Still, an anonymous gift given legitimately might just open some doors, maybe some legs too. My mind began to whirl as I considered the possibilities. I checked the time: just 45 minutes until close of business. There was no point continuing with what I was doing now that Shazza had so inconsiderately shattered my concentration. A little Christmas gift web browsing might help me wind down and would, in all honesty and with hand on heart, be completely work-related…

*******

The second installment of ‘Secret Santa’ will follow in a couple of days. In the meantime, Dear Reader, have a Song…