Upon a recent afternoon at work, I had a group of three middle-aged ladies enter the store and begin pawing through some of the quant gadgets and objets d’art that we have littered across the shelve. After a short while, one of the ladies happened upon a jigsaw puzzle that we sell that, when assembled, […]

Me: Yes, mother?

Mum: I didn’t text you, so what does ‘yes, mother’ mean? Mind you, it’s always nice to hear from you.

Me: I had a missed call from you earlier. Was that not you? My phone says it was you, and my phone never lies, mother.

Mum: I didn’t call, and I certainly didn’t call early in the morning. I must have sat on my phone or something.

Me: Have you been murdered? Am I now speaking to the person who killed you after you tried calling me for help? Admit it. You have to tell me if that’s true. Come on, man; don’t be a dick.

Mum: I can’t be a dick, I’m a girl; and also, I’m fairly sure that I’m alive. Maybe it was a call from a parallel world.

Me: But why would they have called me? On purpose, you think; or maybe it was solar interference scrambling the satellite signals. Maybe you were calling me from the future. You can’t disprove that.

Mum: Okay, whatever. I’m busy internet shopping. Don’t make me think, it’s scary.

Me: Yeah, the thought of you thinking does chill me to the bone. Tell your knock-off handbags I said hi.

Mum: Handbags are cheaper than psychiatrists.

Me: In your case, however, they clearly aren’t as effective.

Mum: That’s only because I haven’t found the right one.

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I was moving around some boxes in the shop storeroom out back when I heard a faint ‘hello’. I came round to the front of the store and saw, already leaving, a uniformed police officer. This is what he said: ‘Hello! Sorry, don’t mind me, I’m just saying “hello”. I’m Yurgen. It’s what I do. […]

I like to dress weird. I’m the only person at my job who doesn’t wear a uniform, and not because I see myself as ‘above the law’ or anything quite so roguish, but simply because I like to express myself with every part of who I am. I walk stupid; I skip and stumble and […]

So there I was in the swimming pool locker room…

(Great start to a story)

I had just about finished getting showered and dressed and was just drying my hair, when in walked Cock Out Man. As you can guess from his name, Cock Out Man had his cock out, proudly dangling away as he swung his hips and gayly (old meaning) strolled past me with a skip in his step. Now, this doesn’t bother me. I’m fine about my physical appearance, but at the same time, I have the modesty to make sure that the amount of locker room penile exposure is kept to a minimum on my part, mainly as a courtesy for the other men there who would inevitably start to feel insecure in my presence (ladies?). Cock Out Man, on the other hand, had no such reservations. Not only was he comfortable with cock exposure, but he stood in the corner of the room, facing outward, flicking around on his phone for a few minutes, without a hint of concealment.

Now, you know how when you already think someone is weird, so you keep an eye (not directly in this case) on them, and suddenly they do something even weirder, and it’s so much funnier because you were already watching them? Well, I had my eye (again, not directly) on Cock Out Man, waiting to see how long he was going to live up to his name. Then something really bizarre happened… Continue reading

I was working my 2nd job job today, which for those of you who don’t know, is in a small, French bric-a-brac shop, and after a few uneventful hours, a peculiar family came in. They were an arabic family; a man, two women, and a small girl. I was about to find out just how friendly the father of the group was.

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I went to get my ring finger sized yesterday, I won’t go into why…

Anyway! I tried on a test ring, and was told that if I had a normal ring, I would be a size R. No problems so far. However, the lady then said that if I were to get a broader ring, I’d probably be a size Q and a half. Problem encountered.
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I was serving a kindly old man at the bar today. He had come for lunch, as he has often done since his wife died recently. He’s probably near 90 and, despite his frailty, is always very nice and polite and funny. Today when he came, there was a little boy screaming and shouting in […]

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Felix: Okay… Here’s one. If you could travel through time and space, to be anywhere in the world, at any point in history, where and when would you go?
Ian: Good question.
Felix: And you will of course have to elaborate on your answer.
Ian: Okay. The start of the universe.
Felix: Uhh… Why?
Ian: See the big ka-boom-boom.
Felix: How… But if you go back to before there was a universe; where would you be existing?
Ian: Well, I’d just pop over to see it, and then pop back.
Felix: But you’d die…
Ian: Not if I was in the Tardis from Doctor Who.
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I barely know where to start with this. My day has just been insane. I guess I should do a quick recap to (try to) make it make any sense to anyone reading… Although I doubt I’ll have too much luck as it makes fuck all sense to me, and I was there!

Basically, the bar I work at has had its busiest week in the 7 or 8 years of its existence. I started the day on my 12th 12 hour shift in a row with only one day off somewhere in the middle, no time to eat, drink or rest in any way and as someone who already has severe life-long insomnia, I can barely articulate my exhaustion, but can attempt to summarise it by saying “I am fucked.” Although to be honest, I’m probably too tired to even finished the word, so “I am fu…” may be more appropriate.

Reaching, and crossing, breaking point about half a week ago, I have been tip-toeing the line between mild confusion brought on by severe fatigue, and what a doctor may refer to as “a full blown fuck-tacular breakdown”…

So you can imagine my surprise when Miss Havisham came to the bar.

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