I was going to bring my pet hamster tonight.
Anyone met my pet hamster - Picasso?
He is an impressionist.
No, honestly he does all the other rodents :-
Mice, rats, capybara, Donald Trump, Prince Andrew, all of them.
Unfortunately I couldn't bring him,
because he died this afternoon.
He fell asleep at the wheel.

I was sitting in the waiting room at my GP surgery and noted that there was a distinct lack of reading material provided. Just a couple of leaflets about ****** and a few old Mills & Boon paperbacks.

Mills & Boon, a very strange corner of fiction indeed. A strange corner in which the sight of a ladies bare ankle can cause a dashingly handsome cavalry officer to positively swoon with desire. A strange corner where the mere use of the word 'hosepipe' can cause a nun to blush. A strange corner in which the heaving ***** of an 80 year old great aunt causes palpitations and sweat gland problems for her even older gardener.

Mills & Boon is a very strange corner of fiction indeed. A strange corner that makes Austen and the Bronte sisters  look like purveyors of ****** ****.

I reach for the leaflets, and wait.

I was walking here tonight and saw a billboard with an advertisement for a communications company with the strap line:
'Connects 100 devices in your home'.
'Connects 100 devices in your home'.
I'm sorry but if you have 100 devices in your home you deserve to get hacked.
'Connects 100 devices ...' and what are these devices?
This is my fridge freezer, its connected to the wi-fi, it Tweets me whenever I have the unmitigated audacity to have the door open for more than 3 seconds.
This is my washing machine, its connected to the wi-fi, it emails me when its cycle is complete, even if I'm stood next to it doing the washing-up.
This is my carriage clock, its connected to the wi-fi, it Tic-Tocs me when it stops.
This is my games console, its connected to the wi-fi.
This is my television, its connected to the wi-fi.
This is my stereo system, its connected to the wi-fi.
This is my central heating, its connected to the wi-fi.
This is my dog. Its collar is connected to the wi-fi.
What next? This is my *** toy, its connected to the wi-fi, it gives me pretty graphs on Facebook.

(To audience: From that reaction I'll conclude that that last bit is already out of date. You naughty naughty people!)

Pagan Paul (April 2022)

I don't like haikus
I feel they're overrated
or maybe I'm bad
.
.
.
.
.
.
at using one too few words to render an idea in sweet humble conciseness without the justification for verbosity and yet nevertheless words spill out my mouth like a flash of water inundating a poor little faucet with needless ramble I have to fudge my mind for in conjuring the words I so much desire that a jaundiced outlook on certain Japanese short forms was borne...


**** haikus but of
course I'd appreciate good
ones every now and...

****, I ran out of syllables

Come to me,
Oh look and see,
Please tell me that I don't belong.

To this place,
O' to this world,
To this situation I hath rote.

But negative,
Nay I say,
Tis a situation so grand,
That it can be only sung out in the tongue of yore,
For it is only the most noble of mantles,
Of Fatherhood's door I adorn.

It shall be I,
I be armed with simple tools,
A fresh ***** or bottle,
To assuage my young liege lord's woes,
For betwixt the soggy ure or rancid scitan,
I dread knowing such knowledge,
But my sacred duties of ****** I shan't ignore.

So for now,
Oh humble bards and wanderers,
Listen to this tale no more,
Create such joy and celebration,
For upon this day,
My Firstborn son is born.

(she) "so... how have you been?"
(i) "the evenings arent kinder
but the moon still flashes her grin."
(she) "you're seeing phantoms of her?"
(i) "i swear they're real-- it ain't just gin!"
(she) "of course not... heck, id write a letter
if that'd save your pills from chasing the bin."
(i) "but i swear i've never been better!"

(she) "so you'd rather live a beautiful lie
and wake up in the clutches of a lovely ghost?"
(i) "you call her that, but when i cry
my tears crawl to caress and coyly coast
her silhouette--"

(she) "i mean no tirade nor needless offence,
but i fear your mind is a marionette
and her hallowed mirage but a reckless goddess
of a puppeteer beneath your blanket..."

(i) "why cant you trust my mouth,
which has kissed hers
and ****** her name aloud
amidst moments of wonder?"
(she) "because my mouth and hers
have not shaken hands
and your mind still suffers--"
(i) "i don't think anyone understands..."

(i) "perhaps she hates the sight of you?"
(she) "perhaps the sight of her only
lies in your bedroom amidst déjà vu."
(i) "it's not right to barter my sanity--"

(she) "take your pills."
(i) "i don't need them!"
(she) "take your pills."
(i) "but i'm fine and well!"
(she) "take your pills."
(i) "but she's ******* real!"
(she) "let's be ******* real."

(she) "you're in denial.
you cant stand losing the person
who fit you all the while
because the outline of her reason--
her figure which has fit you
with edges that lined up
in a way too good to be true,
too good to be made up--
are a haunting projection
from your lonely little mind
of its fading photograph
of a long-lost love."

(i) "..."
(she) "take your pills."
(i) "okay..."
(she) "i'm sorry."


(i) "where'd you go?"

Bolting upright,
In a valley oh so green,
Adorned in white,
And seeing clouds dot the sky,
I realize with a starling realization,
"Oh ****, I guess I died."

Make my way to the barn I saw,
See a spread on a table 30 foot wide,
I see Jesus with all his fellers,
Laughin' while sippin on wine.

I walk up to the Son,
And ask if I can have a seat,
He gestures to the empty seat to his left,
Apparently, he was waiting for me.

As Jesus laughs at a joke from John the Baptist,
I take a sip from my glass with a trembling hand,
Looking at our savior a gather the gumption to ask him an important question to me.

As he turns to me I feel my stomach drop,
He says,
"Go on my friend and ask."
I say to him,
"Oh Lord, how is it this came to be?"

He ponders this over a bite of trout,
Gesturing me to take a bite of my own.
As I chew on the tender meat he swallows and says.

"My boy, you were a bit gruff,
and crass I may say,
But you believed in me and dispite your rougher edges,
You never lost your faith."

I looked over to James,
Who's talking to Matthew,
Debating the best kind of fly for fishin,
And Jesus continues to me.

"While you stumbled a time or two,
And did some things that made me shake my head,
You did your best to be a better man,
So for that you can join in on this little meal,
and feast here with my friends."

I take in the scene before me,
The surrealness of it all,
And a smile creeps along my face,
But quickly falls with the same pace,
"But what of my family Jesus,
Are they alright after my death?"

He turns to me,
A smile in his eyes,
and lays my concerns at ease.

"They'll grieve you,
and in time they'll just join you here,
But for now let's finish up,
Because Mary makes a mean cobbler"

there was an old temple of Thai
whose monks just wanted to get high
so they got hooked on meths
but were exposed through their breaths
so they all bid their temple good-bye

now off they all went to rehab
to cure them of the sniff and the jab
but their bright robes and habit
of the monks and their abbot
made the inmates think they'd gone mad

"we're seeing orange" they said to the quack,
who put down his bottle of Jack,
said he, rather tight,
"i think you are right,
but the bottle is better than crack".