End-In-Jet-Son – A Tigger Story

Bouncy, Bouncy, Bouncy Went Tigger down the forest path!
I want oranges! said Tigger bouncing over to the orange tree.
Ah Said Pooh, But you can’t peel them with your paws and claws
you need a knife and fingers or just fingers.
mmm said Tigger. What shall we do?
Then came along little Christopher Robin. Tigger and Pooh were lying on the ground din front of a huge pile of luscious oranges chewing a piece of grass.
Yawn Tigger!
MMM! Oranges! said, Christopher Robin.
‘Yes! they’re ours’, said Tigger ‘we need someone to peel them for us.’
I could peel them said, Christopher Robin
It’s easy you just make a hole then take the end and peel like this.
mmm, Juicy said Tigger. swallowing an orange whole
You should chew said, Pooh.
oh no, I got indigestion said Tigger. Oooohhhhh!
Walk it off said, Pooh
Here! try these End-In-Jet-Son Tablets said Christopher Robin (Camera Zoom in on Pack) They are new from Insect laboratories
Or you could try honey said Pooh Holding up a jar smiling widely. (camera Zoom) Everyone laughs
Camera Zoom foreground pack of End-In-Jet-Son out to All three laughing in front of a big pile of oranges.
The End

Wrote this to cheer myself up!

Copyright allowed. This is a fiction. Copyright remains with the holder.

Drinking Wine

I have drunk a bottle and a half of Merlot and my head is spinning.I want to sit down. And I have a headache brewing. I don’t feel hungry. I don’t feel tired. I don’t feel horny. I don’t feel like telly, music, computer games. Fucking story! Fucking parents! If they had it their way they’d be here with me 24 hrs a day, watching my every move.[every move you make, every breath you take, every claim you stake , I’ll be watching you](floor spins)Is the floor spinning. Fucking hell. I don’t want to be sick. Can I just sit here and sober up? Please god, please!

That’s it I’m going to sleep. Fuck my shoes fuck the duvet.

Oh.What’s that? Nothing. Good. This is nice. I feel OK but something is wrong. A cigarette. No, I have stopped smoking 4 years now. Oh, All is at peace. It won’t matter if I roll over and squashes my face into the pillow. It won’t. Cause no-one is here! Yay!

Pokemon! Pokemon. Wheres my book? There. Great. I’ll just open up to a random page and Awesome! Cool! awesome, awesome. Cute! Fuck of Dad. Get off my shoulder. That’s where parrot belongs! Not you Old Man! Cool! 700 of ’em.

Teddy! Food. Not for teddy. For Andrew. Microwave spaghetti bolognese with cheese sprinkles. yes, please! Beer? hmmm! what have I got? Strongbow, Kronenberg, Budweiser, Scotch, Coke, Vanilla Liqueur. Pernod. That’s empty. Pop? Orange or blackcurrant? No, Yoghurt? Still  got four. In fridge. Door. Nothing . Lemon curd. scratch chin. glance at overflowing bin. take it out. later.



Good, Feeling Fine

Thanks, Ephraim!

No Problem Joe.

OK! We good to go?

Sure, are! Just a swig of that old Mas’

Sure Eph. Here y’are!

Ohhh that’s mighty good.

How you feeling Eph?

Good Joe, Feeling Fine!

That’s us Eph! Good, Feeling Fine drinking Old Mas’ Wine

Hey, Joe that sure sounds like a good time drinking Old Mas’ Wine

(Together) Hey! That rhymes!

(Together) Our indoors says we haven’t got a clue Ha ha


But we don’t just sit there feeling all blue No No

We find each other and get out of town Yeas Yes

Where nobody can hear us fooling around

We got Old Mas’ Wine

And we know how to have a good time

Watching the daytrippers arrive 

Then leave with the tide

OHH! We know how to have a good time

Ha ha ha ha ah

Oh Joe AAAAAA’m A Feeling AAALLL Blue!

Oh! Eph I think I’m blue too.

Why? Well were out of old Mas’ wine Joe

And dat der off license is all gone closed

perhaps it’s time we got on home and saw our wives?

(together) Ohhh! Nooooooo!

(Together) Our indoors says we haven’t got a clue Ha ha


But we don’t just sit there feeling all blue No No

We find each other and get out of town Yeas Yes

Where nobody can hear us foolin around

We got Old Mas’ Wine

And we know how to have a good time

Watching the daytrippers arrive 

Then leave with the tide

OHH! We know how to have a good time


Feu de Glace

If I were a Jet Plane I would fly you to the stars and if you’d already seen that I would fly on to Mars.

And reveal the craters of
Écran bleu where ice dew gathers on the edge of sheer cliffs;

I would traverse the gorges of
Tapis traité and fly blind through under the bridges of Feu de Glace until we were in the core;

There is too much to see, too much to do in an hour.

The sky is ours until noon when satellite forecast predicts grey clouds will swarm into a hurricane heading due East 76 degrees Altitude high. Wind Speed 112 M.p.h Lets get in below and watch. Get the camera ready this will be spectacular.

10:00am Out of hurricane. We got snaps and are heading down to Mexico for a beer. The landing gear has been playing up. Time for a crash landing lesson. Happy days!.
11:00 mid-air refuelling with AC-17 somewhere over Baja California.
11:05 Rocket test and combat with Chinese overfly. Buzzed him back to China!
11:06 Text. Love Is In The AIR xx. Whooooa! Yeah!
11:07 Engage Afterburners. Heading home to see Cathy. CU Soon.x

Tied Down 2

I am listening to Cheryl Crow wishing I had listened and had the patience twenty wasted years ago. For then I could have worn A diamond blue ring and had shoulders big and strong and walked down the path like it was mine and listened to the strangers and made my decisions with my girl. And we’d go into town and throw it all around. And rock it North South East And West wearing a vest. Yeah.

And my mates would all be young and free from such things as ties them down 2

Me 2. I am tied down by you. And the place I live. I stay for no good reason other than I carry an old fashioned image of home that seems out of time 2day.

You carry me or drag me literally through bramble bushes leaving me cut and bleeding for I say again no good reason. I can’t tolerate it any longer. I thought I was stronger. What I need is no place here. Why do I feel I am being guided by hand invisible towards a place where everybody will know I failed. But I have a talent. Me. Little old me. Such praise 2 day.

Pray. No I will not pray to a God that did not make it happen. It was the well. You have it 2.

Can I have forgotten already? 2late.

You arrive home after a day at work and you look tired and windswept. I love you. You glance in my direction and I think that you love me 2.

Could I be that I am dreaming and in reality you are leaving me here alone?

I think again of the meeting and the words unspoken and that’s enough 2 carry me through. Is it all in my mind? All of the time?

What does it say on the label? Schizophrenic. Medication twice a day. Risperidone. Methadone Pretty.

Are women 2 be trusted Am I 2 be trusted?

We shall have to wait and see.


Still cruisin(like a missile)

I got tired of sitting down and standing up, sitting down, standing up so I decided

to take a walk. And with my eyes open as far as they would go I walked and I met people I did speak to and chat but something quickened my step. It was the thought of being late for dinner. So I stepped that bit quicker and said hello that bit quicker and still I was going to be late for dinner so I stepped that bit quicker still, and still made time to say hello and goodbye and nice to meet you. I looked at my watch and noticed that it had different time zones. This writing made me wonder what it would be like to travel  through time zones but to still be on time for dinner. If I was flying would I still be in a rush? Where would I eat dinner? At my destination or on the plane or before I left? There were two people to go before I reached my gate. Would I acknowledge them reciprocally or would I cruise on past like a missile? My Hush Puppies were making loud noises in my head and they said nothing like’Come to bed’ so I tried to make them loud by stamping my feet waving hello and saying ‘good morning! How Do You Do?’ At the top of my voice. I tripped and fell my arm out before me like a stanchion, aluminium. It did not break but It hurt like Jiminy Cricket. Right in The Wicket. The people stared at me like I was real but no-one helped me to my feet. With stanchion arm intact I examined my hand for damage as that’s where the pain was coming from. I noticed a bit of grit had come between my outstretched palm and the floor and a bit of dust and some small piece of paper. It said to me You are a broom before I remembered dinner. I twisted my watch on my stanchion and did a double take. I was late and in pain. So I checked ahead. No more people. There was my gate. I was late but OK.

Space Travel

Space travel is a perilous adventure. Asteroids, Space dust, cosmic rays can all clog filters or knock you out of orbit, hurtling you towards the nearest sun. So imagine my surprise when on holiday I found myself cruising towards the pleasure planet of Sol550 and happened to see a fighter class frigate half-way between a fatal collision with a sun and annihilation by a laser beam from enemy cruisers attacking as a pack. With only a radio and a light sabre for self-defence, all I could do was to watch on as the frigate dodged the attack from the attacking cruisers while on a trajectory taking it right towards the burning surface of the sun. Time and time again the cruisers circled and then attacked in formation sending deadly pulses of weapons class laser beams towards the helpless frigate and time after time the frigate managed to dodge and weave around them and return fire damaging the attacking ships and still avoiding the gravitational pull of the sun.

I pulled up from my ascent towards the pleasure planet and tried to radio for assistance but as luck would have it I was out of range of the police force. I sent instead a message in semaphore to all surrounding craft in an emergency code I remembered from college many years passed. Then, with a knot in my stomach I sat and watched and waited for help to arrive.


Morning Bed Red

Morning bed red. Red if I turn left, red if I turn right, red if I sit upright or show any signs of the fight. Red for a coffee black, hack. Red again from the hallway in the form of prison guards encultured like green, charlie sheen. I have moved on Schon, into pastures green and new, blue, evergreen trees anew all year round atop rolling hills green and lakes dark and deep with rocks in the shallows and nothing in the deeps. Still it takes one to know one, weeps.

The walls grey are talking to me in tones of severity usually reserved for Biblical scholars. What do I see? A work, created by me? Or a wall keeping me in green? I know what I have seen, what has been. Puddles of pink in which I sat my wellingtons red sitting on a bench of leather black whereupon I did see royalty reflected back at me and the place shone like the palace of Versailles. And blue too. I saw meaning green in the walls too engaging looking at just the right time in order to share an appreciation of art amongst men. And yellow hue, upon the heath I did chance upon you on a stand with a golden frame around you and I thought ‘did I make  you?’ Or did you make me? For real. Black with yellow dots, the colours of every day, a rainbow of grey hues in a blue holdall ready to go, to move.

But I have moved on already, Where else is there to go?


The Florists Shop

The Florists Shop

Opposite the church you were, in a small shop premises.
At the end of a row, of small shop premises you were.
And in it was Jean and in front of it was flowers in black buckets
and inside was flowers in green buckets and there was a interflora
poster on the wall. At the back of the shop was the counter, till and
preparation area. During my lunch hour I would spend time
nursing a china cup of tea and a cold sandwich. The tea was sweet
and warming and the conversation was friendly and the smell of
flowers overwhelming. I never got hayfever in that shop though
I suffered badly. I never grew up to be a florist although I once gave it a shot. I dont have any china tea cups and i don’t have any friends
called Jean these days but the memory of it remains. The Florists Shop.

Much Better

In the morning said Thomas. I am not doing it now. No way jose.

But it would look nice


Go on. Pleese


Ill…’ Whispers in his ear.

That’s probably illegal

I do it for you… my man. Pleeease!

Thomas gets up and moves the plant pot from the sideboard to the window ledge. He sits back down again with a grunt.


Much better. Mucho bueno.