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One liner Wednesday: First drafts…

“We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the allergies began to take hold.”

Fear and sneezing Loathing in Las Vegas, Hunter S Thompson,
1971.

#1linerWeds

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Travel n Ravel post: In continent weather…

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For the second of my posts for Ian Cochrane and his Travel n Ravel blog, I have decided to use an old story that I published on Diary of an Internet Nobody when I first started writing, one that many of you probably haven’t seen before.

Now that I have (I hope) a little more skill at writing, I’ve tidied up some of the clunky prose and re-edited the rather long original into two separate posts, the first of which you can read at the link below, with part two to follow next week.

So as the summer holidays of 2015 drizzle to a somewhat disappointing end, let’s go back and relive an equally damp but far more exciting summer, spent battling the elements on the other side of the channel, or as I like to call it;

In continent weather.

 
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Posted by on August 31, 2015 in Guest spots., Humour, Personal anecdote, Travel

 

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Stream of Consciousness Saturday: Four letter tragedy…

image Another Saturday, another Stream of Consciousness, this one inspired by Linda G Hill’s prompt for the week;

” “four-letter word.”  Use any four-letter word as your theme.”

Hmmm…

Four letter tragedy.

Adam, when Mark came upon that poor chap, wore huge grin over face, then bark, clap like seal.
Jane, lady from York, just sent Adam mail, said she’d drop over here soon, make love, cook meal.

Lady came over here, grin also wide, Mark open door, look back, Adam gone.
Sees note; “Gone down food shop, need milk, back soon”

Mark gave Lady wink, Lady grin wide once more, Mark pull lady hand, then shut open door.
When Adam came home, with milk, rice, oats, eggs,
Lady plus Mark were hard, damp, open legs.

Adam made fist, then with cold rage hits Mark,
Mark puts hand over nose then runs away into dark.

Lady know very well, from Adam, what must come next.
Adam grab Jane slim neck with both hand, then just flex.

Lady body goes limp then Jane sees  only dark grey,
When life slip down plug hole, true love runs away.

#SoCS

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One liner Wednesday: First drafts…

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune and a fast carriage must be heading for a mid-life crisis.”

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (1813)

#1linerWeds

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Unraveling Travel n Ravel…

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As a blogger, I consider myself very fortunate, in that I’ve had the opportunity to work with or write about such a wide variety of other writers, artists, musicians and photographers, either by collaborating on the same project or by contributing some writing to a completely different blog.

Travel n Ravel is a new site from Australian blogger, writer, editor and seasoned traveller, Ian Cochrane, who I first met on the pages of Blogcatalog.com a couple of years ago.
It collects the work of bloggers from all walks of life and from all over the world, writing “most things even vaguely related to travel”, which makes for an eclectic mix of personal journals, travelogues and general musings with even the most tenuous links to the theme of travel (given the minimal amount of travelling I’ve done recently, I think I’ll be mostly included in that last category).
If you have learned anything about me during your perusal of my meandering ramblings, you’ll know that if nothing else, I like a challenge and find it difficult to say no to an invitation.

So when Ian invited me to contribute to his new platform, I jumped at the chance before I even thought about what I might write for him.

As I racked my brain over the weekend, it occurred to me that I didn’t necessarily have to write about me travelling somewhere, just travelling generally, at which point I had a flash of inspiration.
If our recent battle with the massed ranks of immigration officials and inept government visa departments wouldn’t come loosely under the “travel” heading, then I don’t know what would.

So it is my pleasure to present to you a link to my very first (official) contribution to the world of travel writing, ladies and gentlemen;

The Day America Came To Me.

 

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Stream of Consciousness Saturday: The host with the most…

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Ok then, let’s get cracking on this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday post.

Today’s prompt from Linda G Hill is “mind”, to do with as I wish, so here goes…

The Host With The Most.

The Mind floated, unbound and adrift, as it had done for countless millennia.

It had been many thousands of years since it had last been within even the most fleeting contact with reality or sanity, the vastness, and above all the emptiness of the space between the stars having become too much for its already brittle psyche long ago.
The madness had descended like a red veil soon after this cruel exile was imposed on it, when the world on which its last host lived discovered its treachery and ejected it into the endless void.

It sped past a huge, blazing sun, no longer even registering its spectacular majesty, just another cosmic powerhouse, it coasted on the solar winds before slowing to inspect the pitiful selection of rocky planets in the star’s meagre system…

But wait, what was that?

It sensed the faint signals of life, the cerebral workings of millions, perhaps billions of sentient beings, the very thing it had been seeking all this time.

It altered its course and made for the small blue-green planet, streaking down through the atmosphere, searching. Searching for a new host.

It circled the small globe, hovering for a few seconds over each large concentration of life force, scanning the population to find the most suitable vessel to inhabit.

Then it found the perfect candidate.
Venal, greedy, amoral and viscous, the feel of this one’s inner thoughts were almost repellant, even to the Mind.

Almost.

It wasted no time, the host gave no resistance when the Mind forced its way into his head, taking over control of his consciousness, memory, perception and conscience, or what there was left of it, after a lifetime of ruthless ambition and corrupt business deals, forcing him to become even more egomaniacal and hungry for power.

The Mind then proceeded to steer its willing victim toward its ultimate goal; acquisition of the supreme leadership of this giant superpower and from there, that of the whole planet.

It marveled at its ability to enslave the stupid and gullible to its will, the vain, ignorant yet somehow charismatic vessel gathering tens of thousands of followers to his leadership campaign in a staggeringly short space of time, all despite the fact that the Mind constantly heard its host referred to as “a buffoon”,  “a political joke” and, the Mind’s particular favourite, “Fuckface von Clownstick”.

And yet, it seemed that whatever the insane Mind commanded the host to say or do, still more people clambered aboard his out of control runaway bandwagon, so many so that his opponents became genuinely concerned that he could actually win the election.
Not even when it forced the rampaging megalomaniac to declare it was going to construct a gigantic wall across the entire continent, built using unpaid workers from the country whose inhabitants the wall was intended to keep out, not even then did his supporters balk at his bigoted and rancid policies.

On and on the campaign raged, gaining momentum every day, trampling the opposition in its path and finally sweeping the now utterly unhinged host and his malevolent passenger into power with an enormous landslide victory…..

***[___SYSTEM RESET_____SYSTEM RESET____SYSTEM RESET___]***

Deep in space, tumbling silently through the airless and frozen vacuum, deep within the exile capsule computer’s neural simulator, there was a low hum as it loaded another in an infinite number of specially tailored and frustratingly incomplete power-fantasy scenarios from its memory banks.

And, for the millionth time, the insane Mind silently screamed its madness into the void.

#SoCS

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One liner Wednesday: First drafts…

“It was the day my grandmother exfoliated…”

– Iain Banks, The Crow Road, 1992.

#1lineWed

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