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| This is YOUR page! Send me your poems, artwork and short stories and your work could appear on this page. |
| Henry's Cat by The 23rd Man |
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I sat there for about an hour. I knew she would probably be late. I'd brought her her favourite flower; I intended to use it as bait. The last time we spoke…well…shouted, she'd called me a retarded prat. I laughed at her, and then she clouted me round the head with the cat. Where do women learn to ask those questions? The ones where every answers wrong. I try to make helpful suggestions, like, "your arse looks huge in that sarong." She says I'm an insensitive wanker, and she just wants to look nice for me. I'm not listening 'cos Karsten Janker has just scored for Germany. It's not that I don't love her dearly she really gets my juices flowing. But if I had to choose, then clearly, I'd rather watch Michael Owen. But, of course, I'm the thoughtless one though she rarely thinks of me. She says, "you're not sticking that up my bum!" And makes me cook my own tea. So, here I am apologising for the crime of being a man. "Guilty, your Honour, of liking sport, beer, T.V., looking at naked ladies with no though of emotional attachment, farting in public, fast cars, funky gadgets, fiddling with mechanical stuff and deviant sex. Oh…and being a Liverpool fan. |
| Driving Lesson by Stephen Cree |
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I vividly recall my first driving lesson. My unbounded enthusiasm overtook My OK instructor began to shout and swear |
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