Tuesday, August 31


Judging by the look of serene confidence, you would have thought him supremely at home on the dance floor. One glance at his palpitating body put paid to that. Arms swinging rigidly, shoulders tensed, head nodding, he exuded the aura of a hyperactive monkey. Turning to where I was dancing nearby, he looked me briefly up and down before an amused grin infected his face. The bastard. He was laughing at my dancing.

A swift Michael Jackson spin and ball-clutch later I was beside him.

“The lion walks alone.”
“You what?”
“Beware the cheese and onion crisps… for that way lies leprosy.”
“What the fuck are you on about?”

He had stopped dancing now, and was looking at me with aggressive bemusement. His whoopee cushion face was flushed with anger. He probably thought I was trying to come on to him.

It was at that moment that I unleashed my five-point exploding bowel technique.

I walked off, picking my way between the small ponds of innards that littered the dancefloor. And I say to you this: woe betide any monkeys that laugh at my dancing.

things from another time...

April 2004  
May 2004  
June 2004  
July 2004  
August 2004  
September 2004  
November 2004  
December 2004  
January 2005  
February 2005  
March 2005  
April 2005  
May 2005  

 

other stuff by me

Unfinished Story Number One
Unfinished Story Number Two

 

other, superior people

Magnetic Kid Liv
The Man Who Fell Asleep
Petrof
Ass Wide Open

 

© 2004 Someone who is not you, unfortunately. Sorry. No animals were harmed in the making of this website, except Germaine Greer

 

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