Tag Archives: Humor

We Should Unionise…

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Harriet’s husband came home early, prompting a mad dash across the bedroom, into a walk-in-wardrobe. There, the adulterer discovered a similarly naked man cowering amidst fur coats and party frocks.

His first heightened thought: Is nothing sacred?

They listened as a (potentially) murderous and drunken Goliath showered his wife with clumsy kisses before collapsing into an uneasy stupor.

A sliver of light illuminated their escape route – a bathroom and a flat roof beyond.

Creeping and held breath led them to freedom. Under the moon’s gaze, one crammed into a little black dress; the other resplendent in a ball-gown, they exchanged unfathomable expressions before parting company, their adrenaline sufficiently expunged for the time being…

 

Written for: Friday Fictioneers

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Twittering Tales: Let’s Get Tattoos…

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With each stab of ink the message slowly revealed itself: I’ve only paid up to the words ‘I’ve poisoned you’. Wire £1m for the antidote…

 

138 Characters

 

Written for: Twittering Tales

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Henpecked Incorporated…

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With Faithful Jenny deliberately scuttled there was no going back. The rip-tides in the bay were well renowned, and the lack of a body would be easily explainable.

He outstretched his arms and let go of everything – his materialistic trophy wife, the kids who hated him, the stock portfolio, the endless competing with other alphas – all expelled in a single glorious belch of freedom.

Hidden behind a rocky outcrop he encountered two other men – one standing in the mangled wreckage of a hang glider, the other kneeling by a bloated cadaver. He greeted them with nervous exhilaration and gave a false name as he’d been instructed. They reciprocated.

‘The likeness is uncanny,’ he commented, gesturing towards the cadaver.

”I paid extra. It’s a little macabre stealing from a morgue, but it’s not like anyone was murdered!’

A speedboat was moored at the tip of the archipelago. With a fair wind they’d be in Gibraltar by morning where a vagabond utopia awaited…

 

164 Words

Written for: Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers

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The Annual Purge (2017 Inspirational Calendar)…

It’s the annual purge of all the terrible things I’ve heard and imagined this year – the corporate equivalent of being overcome with food lust in the middle of a diet and wolfing down a dirty burger.

It’s a long held lament amongst many of my peers that we weren’t taken aside at school and informed: ‘Once you leave education and join the workforce you’ll notice that many people stop speaking English and adopt a farcical hybrid slang in which they’re always looking for bases to touch whilst spoiling games by putting skin in them.’

The zenith / nadir was reached in 2013 when I was handed a copy of ‘Aspire Systems’ unintentionally hilarious calendar in which their staff made nonsensical claims to ‘dare the unknown,’ ‘overtake fear,’ and ‘go upstream!’ My retaliatory effort in which I pledged to ‘dream the impenetrable’ and ‘tick boxes’ did little to foster ongoing relations.

As with previous years I’ve had the problem of coming up with joke names for fictional companies and then finding that they actually exist. These include: Proactivate, Solutionary, Eurekarma and Investigreat (!) but so far no one’s stooped low enough to come up with…

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Barring submissions to Companies House, next year’s entry will either be ‘Analytican,’ ‘Passion FruI.T,’ or ‘Unabler’.

violin2JANUARY: ‘I Square the circle’: Like saying ‘I bacon the banana’ or ‘I shave the shark,’ only MORE retarded…

FEBRUARY: I Mind-Fondle: Because if you can use the phrase ‘Thought Shower’…

MARCH: ‘I’m a Thought Leader’: After My mind-fondle I ascend the strategic staircase and get into my cerebrocopter…

ringAPRIL: I lobotomine for gold: Where you see imbecile, I see visionary…

MAY: I go on mute: See, it wasn’t wasted time after all. I’ve mowed the lawn, painted a bathroom, done the weekly shop and…what was that? No, no any other business from me…OK, bye…

JUNE: Where others only ‘whelm’ I SUPERUNDERWHELM!

unnamedJULY: I Can dig I.T: I respond to a colleague’s remark that I look like the 70’s cop ‘Kojak’ by doctoring his pass-card and calling him ‘Shaft’ for 3 months.

AUGUST: I Youthenize: ‘When I grow up I want to write PowerPoint presentations,’ said no child ever.

SEPTEMBER: I testiculate: Like gesticulating, but with more bollocks.

OCTOBER: ‘I react within a 5 day Service-Level-Agreement’: ‘Hey, how are you? What do you mean you can’t tell me till next week?’

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NOVEMBER: I am a man of single-minded foh…
seriously dude, what’s with the violin?

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DECEMBER: I integrate vertically: Christ, I hear my own words and don’t know what they mean anymore. I look at myself in the mirror and my reflection mouths ‘You’re an asshole.’ How do I find my way out of this labyrinth?

Being a grown-up isn’t what I thought it was going to be…

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