Category Archives: Fiction
The Billionaire burn
Don’t hesitate, or exit the car. Being here is a risk. Nearly all areas in all cities are hostile now. If they get a whiff of your Clive Christian Osmanthus cologne, or spot your Balenciaga shoes, they’ll turn feral. Why … Continue reading
Posted in Fiction
Tagged Balenciaga, Billionaire, Clive Christian Osmanthus cologne, Disdain, Fiction, Financialisation, Fred Dibnah, Hitting the pavement, Imperceptible nose, Inflation, Jump or burn, Keith Chegwin, Proles, Quality-control advisor to the supervisor, Renters, Revolt, Slough, Slumlord, Toffs, Trillionaire, Wardrobe sized HGH farmed mercenaries
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Pest
Speculating why and when he started to behave this way was a regular occurrence in many sitting rooms during evenings when mediocre television made tawdry topics of conversation a necessity. One hypothesis was a microscopic brain tumour in the pituitary … Continue reading
Posted in Fiction
Tagged 10kg of illegal product in a carrier bag, Abdul’s, Casualty, Champagne Socialists, Community Council, Diets, ER, Fiction, Flip phones in 2021, Hair transplant, Hard hat head-butt, House, Jaggery, Matriarch, Mediocre television, Paranoia, Pest, Pituitary gland, Porcine profile, Range Rover, Salmon, Scotland, Shooting squirrels on a golf course, Sleeping policemen, Suburban cuntery, Supersized emperor penguin, Tablet, Tittle-tattle, Turkey, Union city man
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Charles Manson was a person too
It was fitting that he’d finally decide to go through with it right as the rambunctious crescendo of ‘Socialist Suicide’, with its violent imagery of scabs committing various forms of the act in the safe heavens of their homogenised suburban … Continue reading
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Tagged Adolf, American, anti-establishmentarianism, Baby Boomers, Black Sabbath, Buzzcocks, Charles Manson, David Bowie, Disco, Elton John, Finding Polanski, Genghis, Glam Rock, Hey Joe, Jimi Hendrix, Josef, Joseph Beuys, Krautrock, Led Zeppelin, Mick Taylor, Patti Smith, Pistols, Prog Rock, Socialist Suicide, Spliffs and rotgut wine, Station to Station, The Beatles, The Clash, the Ramones, The Rolling Stones, The Stooges
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Addicted to Porn
‘Mr Mansfield-Bosworth, what are the justifications for tabling said policy?’ ‘We aim to make it another facet of the post-Brexit strategy’ ‘And why is that?’ ‘It’ll be for the youth’ ‘The youth?’ ‘Yes, and I haven’t seen this brought up … Continue reading
Posted in Fiction
Tagged Addicted to Porn, Anti-abortion, augmented breasts, Brexit, Buttplugs, Derek Dong, Desperate Househusbands 2, Ejaculation, Escourting, Eyeball licking, Fetishes, Fiction, Fur suit fucking, Jeremy Kyle, LGBT, Mandingo members, Mansfield-Bosworth, Maria Master-Bates, Max Clifford, necrophilia, Neil Hamilton, paedophilia, Porn, porn exposé, PornHub, Red Tops, Romanian fruit pickers, Shagging in the Auschwitz gas chambers, Sodomised with a cucumber, Sorry this is nearly 3000 words long, Stacey Slapp, Stephen Byers, Untermenschen
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How not to cook Bear stew
My temper has always been problematic. While it caused the accident, the real damage was done by every decision I made in its wake. This meant the accident could not be perceived as anything other than maliciously premeditated. Public absolution … Continue reading
Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized
Tagged Ballard-esque, Bear, Bird collar, Cat, Dogs on Death Row, Fiction, Gammon, How not to cook Bear stew, Less than 2000 words, Noncewatch, Rolf Harris, Short Story, Sociopathic
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Wichita Lineman Was A Song I Once Heard 
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