Morning Terrors

I’ve just woken up from some of the ugliest dreams I think I’ve ever had. I was married, and evidently rich. I know I was rich because when my wife took off in the middle of the night to make skanky, horrible, bukkake-esque love with numerous menfolk, she took my convertible Mercedes with her. I know of her betrayal because she told me. She told me because I confronted her, and she told me in that horrible, vindictive, ‘I want to make you suffer’ way that people sometimes adopt when they’re brimming over with hatred.

Then there was the violence, courtesy of someone I used to know at school. At school he had mental issues – I think he was schizophrenic; in his teens he became possessed by the devil and heard messages from the government in children’s TV. In my dream he approached me and was about to beat me up. He was very powerful and there was nothing I could do. To my right, there were eight or so people seated in a large four-wheel drive vehicle. As my tormentor approached me, slowly, I looked to the people in the SUV and begged for their help. I could see by the expressions on their faces that they knew it was wrong to just sit there and watch, but that’s what they did. One of them was my tormentor’s father. I don’t know who the others were. They watched as my tormentor began to beat me viciously and relentlessly. I saw his fists hurtling toward me, and felt their impact. It went on for ages. Then I woke up.

Unfortunately, I know exactly what it means.

Have a nice day!

x

Scanmongering Mittwoch :: Violence

This is not violence.



This is smut. Also, it's the answer to the last thrilling episode of Bookscan, from back in those heady, innocent days of mid-May. Congratulations due to Melissa, who in the end refused the kind offer of a dead old man's wheelchair. There is no pleasing some people.

This, however, is violence.



I watched Louis Theroux Meets Chris Eubank last night and that reminded me that I had lined up a couple of Bookscans before I went on holiday. But then I forgot about them. Look at that photo though. Vile, isn't it? 'You never got me down, Ray.' Here's another one.



How thoroughly undignified.

Aww, this is better, and of course, what it was all about. Or most of it.



So, what's the book? If you don't know, guess. A prize for the winner. Don't know what yet. You choose.

Two Gorgeous Black Birds Fucking in the Park, Totally Naked

Is it crows or blackbirds which have black beaks? I can never remember. I only know it isn’t tits. And cocks - like the Fonz - have combs, but that’s probably irrelevant. The beak issue may not be important to some of you, but I’m quite anal about my birds, so I must check. Excuse me…

Aha, they were crows. I saw them this morning when I was out for my run. At first I thought it was just one crow, maybe eating something that had died, so I ran over in its direction to observe the violence of nature in the raw. Then as I neared, one crow swiftly became two, rising silently into the sky, their crow coitus temporarily interruptus. I felt bad.

I didn’t know crows did sex on the ground. Isn’t it swifts or swallows that do it in the air? If I was a bird, I’d like to do it in the air. Imagine.

Whoosh.

Anyway, that’s what I saw. And as I jogged off after it happened, I did a little spit, watched the male bird pursue the female and I thought, is there a blog post in this? Is this ‘an event’? Is this yet another incident in my apparently incident-filled life? ‘Black birds fucking,’ I thought. That’d bring in some new readers. I like it when new readers come. And if they happen to be perverts, well, perverts are people too.

We’ll see.






Oh, and also, before I forget…

Lesbians.