Good evening folks, especially hello to Rochelle who, against all the odds, keeps this band off merry pranksters in check and we keep coming back for more to plunder the rich seams of literature tricks and tales. Thank you also to Mikhael Sublett for the photo, something seems to be broken and I have no idea what it is, i’m wondering if i’ve got the shot the correct way up; a conundrum it seems. I’ve used the word seems twice there, three times if you count the reference to mining, my God my brain is fried with all these political shenanigans and faux pas over the last few weeks, i’m afraid i’ve been sucked down the rabbit hole to a certain extent, but the good news is that its all over tomorrow and then the shit will really hit the fan, interesting times.
I apologise for hardly reading any works this last two weeks too, I will, as my teacher often said, “Try Harder”
I digress, so without further ado, thinking cap on, and…
On My Marks…
When Alice left Wonderland there followed some years of boredom, onanism and yearning for her friend, “Rampant Rabbit” and the experiences they had together.
She moved to Southport with an idea to erect a funfair, the leitmotif; her extraordinary travels.
A local bookshop called “Wonderland” objected; “Pleasureland Sex Toys” was predictably more tolerant and sold her naming rights in return for advertising on the Big Dipper and Greasy Pole.
Insatiable Alice had zero business acumen and as sure as love-eggs are love-eggs the funfair flopped, and brick by brick the buildings crumbled, the heater-skelter a phallical reminder of sexier times.
So there we are again, 100 words on the nose, not a one-er wasted, hope you enjoy my little tale.