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Nice. There's a cave in Guildford where, in the year 2000, the council put a red telephone box and a mini so that beings from the future could find it after we'd all gone. My first novel was about a lad in the future writing to a past he knew nothing about, but dreamt of, telling of his hatred for the world he lived in. This was a very readable story. The tone was relaxed in the swirling, cavorting nightmare universe you portrayed. I suppose we can make comparisons to angeli today, but no one would like to say for fear of speaking out. What a bunch of wimps we are compared to Adam and Lily. Well finished.

Will do, Magic. It's only just begun. This site has some truly amazing folk on board. All the best Richard

Fiddlesticks. I joined Zoosk for free and then they wanted me to subscribe to talk to this amazingly lovely and zenny lady in Reigate who was on my case, but when I looked at my bank balance I realised I couldn't afford it and then put it down to fate or something like that. Proper tease. On that site, the women don't pay but the men do, which brings to mind the long P-word. No pay no say seems to be the way dating sites operate, but how else are they supposed to survive? Someone's got to dig their hand in their crotch. (I know, we can do that anyway.) Problem is, I'm pretty broke so I'm not exactly going to whisk them off their feet unless their favourite things in life are two-for-one meals, M&S dinner for two and long walks. Anyone? Anyone? Anyone? Anyone?

Thanks Moonlight. Come on Ewan. Give us a smile! This just got story of the week, and bloody well deserved too.

Thanks for commenting, Prettyrose and Julie and all the above. I've just found out that I can't enrol the children into a new school because the mother is home-schooling them now. One of the children has a statement for speech and language difficulties and although SEN (special educational needs) recommended that she have a formal education using the national cirriculum, they can't allow me as their rightless father to visit schools in their new area until the mother applies for the children's attendance at a new school, which she has no intention of doing. A new catch 22 for me to unravel. It seems that this government will do anything to disable and debilitate a child's needs in order to support the emotional needs of a sick mother who seeks to poison her children with all the hatred and scorn of a despot. It's no wonder the government never saw fit to invade Uganda. Unlike Libya, Iraq and Afghanistan, there's nothing they can squeeze from the Ugandans, but why they would seek to permit a sick mother to alienate her children from their society, school, father and friends is insane. Maybe it's because there's nothing to be gained either way for them, like invading Uganda to remove a despot, or perhaps they just don't give a damn about children. It wouldn't surprise me the way the system's set up to fail absloutely everybody concerned, apart from those who feed from the pain. Richard

Well hard, Sundays. And there was me thinking that only children appreciated irony. I've been waiting all my life for The Change. Today's media and advertising have the same qualities as Utterly Butterly; it looks quite good and spreads like a dream but if you smelt the repulsive odour that came from the industrial vat in the factory where it's made, you'd never go near it. Kim Kardishan- £11 million for the wedding, divorced in weeks aand still the girls adore her. That makes me puke. A good entry for the comp.

FTSE's on the money here. While he may lack subtlety and can joke around, what he says here is how it is. If you have posted your own work, surely you have a grip of the English language and can enjoy the work of others, so why not comment? That was one of the first things I did on here, mostly because I was wowed by the volume of quality writing but also because I knew that interaction would encourage people to read my stuff. Good grammar is essential if you really want feedback. It's like a plate of food in a restaurant. If the plate is spattered clumsily with sauce, contents thrown together whichever way, plonked on the table by a vacant waiter, the appetite falters and the plate is sent back. It just feels like the place couldn't give two hoots about presentation, which counts for alot. We're not a fickle bunch on here, but life's too short and there's plenty out there who take care to present work in a way that deserves reading. Try harder and you'll see the difference. If you can't be bothered, there'll be no change. Reading the work of others opens the mind. Negative commenting is useless, as I've found out, but if you like something, why not tell the writer? It means as much to them as it means to you. We're all the same.

I think Fatboy74 hit the nail on the head. The voice of the narrator was the thing that grated me. From there in, I was always going to find fault, intentional or not on your behalf. Well done for such an original take.

Great stuff. very visual and desperately indicative of how a few badly brought up kids can make acceptable the utterly insane to their peers. I still remember conspiring to tie a 'friend' up to a tree and making a wee fire at his feet. Luckily, it was just a thought. The fact is, we really were considering doing this and I've never forgotten how to close we were to performing the deed. there really aren't enough stories that question the fragility of the human spirit. I applaud you for going there with such aplomb. Kids need to read stories like this to allow themselves the opportunity to question their actions. Learning right from wrong was never a strong point with me in childhood because I was never informed of the difference; it was trial and error, but still no punishment came. It's so easy to be swept into trouble when parents are unavailable. That would be the only thing that I'd like to see added to this piece; some knowledge of the ringleader's upbringing that justifies the pain he doles out to others as a form of retribution, as if it might take away his own pain. That allows the young reader to separate him/herself from the perpetrator of the violence and make the choice to disassociate themselves. Well done, Sundays Child. Really made me think.

Hi Mangone, I did my RE O level a year early and got an A but then I just shrank away from bookish knowledge till much later in life. I can't remember if he ever said he was the Son of God but I'm pretty sure he did. Brian denied it because he knew he wasn't but by denying it, the crowd believed this to be a sign that he was. Then, when he said 'alright, I am the Son of God' they knew it to be the truth and when they chased him halfway round Jerusalem (even after telling them to fuck off), they found his shoe and kept it as a sign that he had been taken away by God, but then one of them noticed him scurrying off up an alley past the Dog and Duck so they carried on chasing after him till he got to the place with the juniper bush with the man who hadn't spoken for ages, which was on a hill somewhere, and then they stoned him for talking out of line about Brian. All I know is that I don't know whether he said it or not because I wasn't there and the only reason they wrote the bible was because papyrus had just been invented and they wanted to make a best-selling book because all the other books had been written on stones and took ages to read.

Pain gives in to relief, life alludes to death, and this woman stuck two fingers up at self-pity! An easily digestible, well formed nod to nobility.

The governor of the Bank of England is only just starting to filter out the gravity of our problems, revealing that this 'double dip recession' could be the worst financial crisis this country has ever had to face. While the Bank of England and its global allies have engineered the crisis in order to destabilise society, civil war and global unrest on a massive scale now seem inevitable. The horrible truth is that capitalism has rewarded its rich with their end-goal. All they have to do now is lay down the last of their cards. Having wiped the table clean of chips, leaving the losers penniless, their game is over. Again, I ask, if all 'civilised' society is in debt, who do they owe the money to? It's a simple question that no one seems to want to answer, although if each of you were in debt, which is highly likely, you would be able to tell me to whom you owe the money. Don't forget that a bank note is merely a promise to pay the bearer, and that promises can be broken at any time, as each of our governments have shown us, regardless of which party they profess to represent. Trust is a commodity that has been flaunted and trodden over by government. Soon, pensions and property will be worthless. Whether we like to deny it, or whether we have chosen to accept it, the real war has not even begun. Maggie, google 'Great Britain owns USA' and you will see that the United States of America is nothing but a corporation owned by the City of London. This is hardly relevant now that the game is up, but I thought you'd find this interesting, if not boring. Pia, your nightmare was highly insightful, as mass nationalism is likely to sweep across Europe as govts cause their people to protect what they believe is theirs. This will be brought about by mass hysteria engineered by Western governments to de-populate the planet. Tony, I don't think short-termism is the real problem. This problem was borne out of capitalism, which has presided over the world for more than a century. The final era of capitalistic deception, which I put as 2000-present, from when Gore should by all rights have replaced Bush but for a rigged Florida vote, has now made the situation irreversible and handed the rich its final swipe of all the world's financial assets, stripping bare the riches of each nation that its people can no longer claim as their own. Julie, nothing is free because they have covered every angle. We have to take back what is rightfully ours. Savannah, this is the world you have inherited. That's why you hate politics. Alex, sorry to have ruined your day but it's time to face the problem and lay the blame at the feet of those who have deceived you for all these years. We are not the enemy. The super-rich are the enemy and politicians are their servants, not ours.

Thanks very much for your kind thoughts, Barry. I believe that where there is faith in God and even the most wicked people on the planet, redemption is always close behind. It may take longer than I want, but it will come. If I can prove to the judge that I fully own my part for the pain and suffering of my family in the past, I believe that my ex-partner will begin to own hers. Redemption comes from forgiveness of the self and others, and then it is fed to those who wish to vilify and torment. Life's a selfish program, and when others see peace in those who were tormented, they want a piece of it too. Without forgiveness, everyone loses, and I can't afford to allow my children to be any more spiritually handicapped than they already are. All the best Richard

Love and loss mixed in emotion. Very visual towards the end, nightmarishly dreamlike. Inconsiderate ex's always leave their mark but I'm sure it's never meant, unless in revenge. Great poem

Easy, Insert! Abc's a place to share ideas and voices (without American paranoia about copyright etc), a source of inspiration from which writers can spawn wordy lifeforms. I've spent too long thinking people might nick my stories. It's a waste of time and now I'm just enjoying having people read stuff. Abc's a bottmless can of nutty nourishment for us both and I enjoy your work alot. You know I'm an over-sensitive sod and I appreciate your advice about flippant posts. I haven't bought a blade yet, but I spose it's just a matter of time. (joke)

Hi Mangone, We all seem to be going around in the same circles like dogs chasing our tails. I know you're not taking this topic too seriously but is that because you don't have addictive tendencies yourself and therefore lack true insight in the matter or perhaps you have gone through a form of addiction and managed to nip it in the bud? Maybe you're a social user or maybe you saw through the whole drug/drink mirage early and chose wisely to leave it alone. Whichever it is, and I'd love to have been a social user (I was at the beginning, and how!), this subject is very close to my heart and seems to be on my list of things to work out during life. I agree medicinally drugs can be used to incomparable effect. All these drugs were put on the planet for good, not evil. The problem is, Man has lost his sense of direction and purpose of late (let's ssy since the industrial revolution) and in doing so has become a victim of his own inventive success. Coke, which is especially good for dentists, is on the market as crack and the ways they import it are horrific (infants are killed in the Caribbean, their bodies are filled with coke and they are quickly taken on a flight to good old blighty with an adult, and ripped open at the other end). Skunk can have rockwool in it and is sometimes pissed on to make up the required weight, snide tobacco has asbestos in it and heroin sprinklings of anthrax. Dealers and, it seems, governments don't really give two hoots so long as it doesn't hit their own. In terms of us imbibing drugs, I'm sure this wasn't intended, although acid and mushrooms would be taken by authoratitive elders to decide matters of morality (in a decently run world). Perhaps Lord Taylor would disagree. I think he'd just have a bad trip (acid has a very bad effect on the morally corrupt). Although tobacco has formaldehyde and other beauties in it, I'd agree that cannabis is more carcinogenic. Providing people with unrestricted amounts of hard drugs would be like introducing free for all euthanasia to teenagers. In this morally bankrupt world, dealers would have a field day. As for alcohol, it's a depressant and there are no redeeming qualities. I tried for many years to counter depression and an unsettling form of self-consciousness with alcohol, but two negatives don't always equal a positive. It's OK for social drinkers, though it does no good really. It just softens the mind for the sake of an otherwise difficult compliance. The trick in life is to live it on life's terms. I think, if I may be so bold, that to couple milk and cannabis is way off the mark. Milk is the natural gift of protein from mother to child whereas cannabis is the paid-for poison from dealer to adult. It does lead to harder drugs, assuming the user is desperate enough. The most irritating thing about the debate on drugs and drink is that everyone uses their own experience as the guiding factor in their argument, which is natural enough. The problem stems from this subjective look, which seems to stifle reasoned debate. If person A has no need for drugs and uses drink socially, he cannot see the glaring reality that person B is a mere slave to drugs. A thinks that B is capable of stopping and so has little time for him. If person C is a heavy drinker doing his health no good but functioning, he will gauge his own addiction against the typical alcoholic, person D, and frown on him, protecting his own addiction till his own early death. If person E has been through childhood trauma and managed to live a decent life without turning to drugs, he will look at person F, who has suffered also as a child but found himself in the trap of drug/drink abuse, as a wimp who gave in too easily. The list goes on, because there are many different tribes of addiction, each justifying their own habits by the behaviour of others caught in the spectrum of addictions. Because society is so messed up, deflection now uses cleaning, shopping, food, almost anything, and addicts are multiplying as time goes by. This is a far bigger and more imporatnt topic that people imagine. Perhaps alot of people see that, but find it even more confusing than politics, so turn a blind eye (making them very susceptible to a spot of low-level addiction!) Who knows where it will take us, but I reckon that unless we become more flexible and forgiving of one another, the only way is down.

thanks for reading,Simon. I identify with your thoughts. I'm starting to think that peace of mind is the best tonic to write with. Everything finds its place naturally. All the best, Richard

'Hedge-found scavengers'. Yep, the real war criminals are the world-starving bankers. Suffocating and grounded poetry, stealthily embedding the sword of love into the heartless chests of black-suited sky rats. Smashing

Geoffrey's got a very vaild point. I used to hide behind some psychologists' belief that depression is the illness of the strong. I was resolute in drinking and smoking dope to alleviate the dark days and then I got clean. As the mist lifted in my mind, very slowly, I decided that I could try Citalopram (or clitoral pram, as I affectionately call it). I got tingles up my legs and felt like I was taking the drug as a daily hit similar to my drug of choice before getting clean. Then, after six weeks on it, I went to a fancy-dress party in Italy dressed up to the nines and literally froze when I arrived. My thoughts were certainly verging on the insane, so I threw the pills away and started to try and life on life's terms. It took time, and continued sobriety, but only when I had truthfully accepted that I suffered from a form of depression and could see it for what it was could I take in the notion that depression was not the illness of the strong. Far from it, it was the illness of the self-piteous. This may not be so easy for sufferers of manic depression to take on board, but I have seen a marked change in my own depressive state by accepting it for what it is. When it hits, I try not to dwell in it, however strangely comforting that darkness may be at times. If I can recognise it when it hits, I can best deal with it by allowing it to pass and not soothing the illness with self-pity, which only seems to lengthen the dark period. When someone told me about the idea that depression feeds off self-pity, it made perfect sense, but if they'd told me a year ago, I almost certainly would not have been ready to hear it. My sister has suffered from depression all her adult life and she's now 55. She has seen a psychotherapist for a very long time and takes the lowest dose of Citalopram daily. She lives in a big house with her husband and is reasonably well-off financially. She has a responsible part-time job and their two children have flown the nest and are doing very well. I'd call her a functioning depressive, much like a functioning alcoholic, in that the latter can go through life without losing his/her partner, home, job, etc. but remains reliant on alcohol as a stimulant to his/her emotional wellbeing when he/she knows that it is slowly debilitating them. One lunchtime, I told my sister that I believed depression was an illness perpetuated by self-pity. Her husband kept quiet and I noticed that my sister took offence to what I'd said, almost as if it was slur on her character. Since then, she has not contacted me and I am quite sure that she is holding a resentment against me. I'm glad I said this to her because I may have instilled a theory to her that she refuses to access at present. Denial, I believe, is the cause of this stance, but there may well come a time when this theory becomes pertinent to her and at this time she may be prepared to accept that she too has perhaps relied on self-pity to justify and perpetuate her depressive state. Acceptance is the key to all of our problems.

It's better than you think, Julie. Give yourself some credit for this one. It really made me grateful for all the things I have today and hopeful for the things I wish for tomorrow. They're only simple wishes but so important to me. Thanks for cheering me up. All the best Richard

Lifelike and very believable, especially the children tracing the monitor and the patient telling them it is a lullaby. This sort of conversation wouldn't be out of place in a top rate film. You've managed to mix light humour with dark melancholy in this one, which allows the reader to really open up to his own feelings. Your confidence is growing but don't stop now. Get yourself to the next reading evening and I'm sure captain Tony will find a slot for you. All the best Richard

You get back what you give away on this site, and you're getting the just rewards of the fine, honest and glittering gems on display in this gritty piece of work. Full of stamina and up for the journey. Keep em coming! Richard

William Wallacesque, this speaks of love, hope and defiance through gritted teeth. I think the gift of desperation is upon the whole world and that this is just the start of a global revolution. Sadly, I also think that these are the proceedings of the power elite whose gameplan was made millenia ago to work in their favour. What's about to come may prove to be just another necessary blip that will economically cleanse 'their' planet in order to start 'afresh'. That said, it takes an Arab nation to stand up against the tyranny of its own government fed cold hard cash by Americans to militarise its people into spiritual submission by forcing them to turn a blind eye to the injustice at home and close by.

Yeah, that's the jobby. Good cheap programming that makes Eastenders look like Chariots of Fire. My posts keep on getting wiped as I'm writing and then saying 'access denied' so I'll end there. Great storytelling Oldpesky Keep em coming

Left out is a good title because we're right in it now. Top to bottom, a pile of shitheads; what have the young to look up to but a mountain of crap. Hurry on Libyan love. All the best Richard

Yes, that does make sense. So confusing to differentiate a slave from a master these days!

Thanks for your kind comment, Geoffrey. I am close to publishing this book and just waiting for an enigmatic but brilliant artist to finish the artwork. It will contain 28 coloured drawings and I'll be reading it to children in schoold and libraries. Wish me luck! Best wishes to you, Richard

You have done thrity pages easily. It runs from when it started. That's the order. Just send the first, say, fifteen of these lil beauties. Dare ya!

Thanks for reading, OTT, Julie and Magic.

Love it, Spartacad. Well said, but let's keep the culling as a preventative measure for naughty men in suits who think theyre above the law. Maybe custard creams at dawn will make them think twice. Yes, Oldpesky. Being an arsenal fan is enough to see that I've been wasting time for too long on pansies in skimpy clothing. Football is very dull these days in Ingerland though. I've started supporting Torquay now, a bit of the old win some lose loads. Off to read Cohen's piece on Calamity Cameron.

There's alot to chew on here. It's bouncy, imaginative and intelligently written. I'll read the rest soon. Cheers

Wowser. There's a crooner's song (maybe Manilow) that goes, 'Honesty, such a simple word, everybody's so unkind'. That was a great read and I'm feeling for women with child giving disorders when I should have thoughts purely for the little uns. It's so easy for me to get worked up about mums who let their babies scream to death without response. One of my customers, I'm a housepainter, locked her kids in their room for bedtime and you should have seen the gouges and hits on the insides of the door. Both the parents seemed fine to me, but we don't know what went on when they were kids. Maybe the same treatment. Maybe it worked for them. As for the other 2 stories set in the swanky African resort, I really liked them. You seem to have a grand-scale talent for identifying the human failings of the interpersonal in a sad but accepting way. Your work is also brash and abrasive but without pride or a sense that you are anything but human. It's the believability that allows it room to breathe. Tres Francaise, non?

Hi OTT, This is brilliantly written and very funny. Some parts had me laughing my head off (a good but temporary cure for ABC OCD). In fact, I'm hoping for a cherry right now. Of course, I believe it to be a very cherry-worthy poem and fully accept that any failure to recognise my vast genius is but a sad shortcoming of the editors' intellect (bloody fools!) I am perfectly happy to accept that some of my work is merely highly superior and not of its usual sublime, exceptional, exquisitive quality, and as I sit on my chaise longue in the drawing room of my country pile, watching sheep and horses on the lawn as I sketch them, (in supported housing at the moment) it's easy to forgive these very mortal souls. I'd have normally dictated this commenting masterpiece to my secretary but she's otherwise engaged (clicking onto my stories to up the count). My accountant has advised me that I may purchase Abctales after reading an awfully boring note from my doctor that concluded that I'm suffering from this nasty ABC OCD bug, but that blasted Tony Cook won't sell the dreadful site to me so I think I need to speak to my solicitor. Perhaps he could have a word. Oh, the joys of ABC OCD! (Not that I've got it, mind..) All the best Richard

Beautifully put, David. I've been finding out about Tony Blair's adoption scandal to increase the number of children put up for adoption by 50% which, while this campaign was dropped in 2008, has now turned into the multi-million pound business of stealing babies away from marginally disruptive mothers (easy targets) to fill local govt's corrupted care system with babies and toddlers they have no intention of finding parents for, but whenever I try to talk about it with seemingly well-adjusteed people, they become instantly disinterested, as if nothing can be done about it. Theere lies the problem; good people's apathy and lack of integrity. It's no wonder the power elite and the church suck every bit of goodness out of the world in the name of democratic freedom and love when people are happy to let them, and they'll get what they deserve in the end. People haven't changed since Jesus' time. They're still the saame sick shits waiting for someone to watch getting killed in the name of love so they can say they saw Him. What a pitifully disgusting race we are.

Hi Animan, God is a purely personal ideology for me, so there's no religion behind it. I'm done with intellectualising what God is but if you like, it's everything good in life, and only by practising God's will do I get closer to my own truth. I'm still miles away, as you'd see instantly if we met. It's a slow journey full of repetitive error on my part. I need this higher power to get a handle on life. It's like a cycling proficiency test, ie. it puts me on the road and keeps me safe from danger. For the right reason, I'm glad this poem made your head swirl. Thanks for asking without prejudice.

There's a real sense of loss in this little girl and the way you showed her using untested ways to deal with the madness are very well observed indeed, especially the stars in the head. Really took me back. Ambiguity breeds confusion; that's what children from broken or unhappy homes have to deal with until they can work it all out for themselves. In this story, I got the sense that school was also a place of unrest, a place where understanding was restricted to lessons. She's crying out to talk about it to someone neutral, but who? The absent male swan and the mother's insistence that swans mate for life must have been a confusing analogy for the girl to take on board, but children look at the bright side of life, and she did this by watching the building of the nest while wishing her father away. Very powerful and mixed up emotions fighting each other, Insert. That coupling with the pigeons fighting over territory for their own family, presumably, is just sublime. This is a fortunate child in the grand scheme of things, though, because most children who suffer emotional difficulties of this nature don't have birds in a stream at the end of a massive garden. They sneak off to derelict houses with shards of glass and used needles lying around, and that's when they're lucky enough not to be held prisoner in their own home. This is a compelling read and one I had to read twice to taste all the ingredients. It's either emotional overload or, as my gut tells me, it's a perfectly focussed fish-eyed lens view of inside a tormented child's mind. Although I haven't read as many of the entries as I could have, this is a strong contender of any competition in my book. I won't say good luck, though! Richard

Great poem that, to me, emphasises the importance of first-hand creativity. I really felt for the lad at the top of the stairs; I saw him there, rubbing his little eyes. Glad your man wasn't there that day.

Thanks for reading and glad you could relate. It was about thirty years ago for me too.

The song title says only half of it, whereas the first four words say it all. Unfortunately, the heroin addict generally finds that the hit is unequally by any other worldly thing, person, drug, place, and hence falls in love with it from day one. Heroin provides a state of warmth and inertia that fills every single crevice of childhood trauma and adult apartness with duck down feathers. Sadly, the ride is ephemeral (which sounds fluffy enough but means temporary). Unaided withdrawal replaces the feathers for shards of glass, but a good detox cushions the blow very well. Nothing else can compete with the hit of heroin, so don't try and compete with it. Finding a rock bottom is key to recovery and I know dozens of lovely men and women who have thrown in the towel and beaten it. Relapse, though, is one of the major causes of death because of lack of bodily resistance to the drug. Half of my Surrey mates from my late teens died years ago from it. It's a killer. It takes no prisoners. It sounds like the man in this story could be reaching a rock bottom. I'd suggest he gets himself over here and does a proper detox in a hospital. After that, the only solution I know that works is a program of treatment for chemical dependence. Any other help would be enabling, which brings on further shame and guilt, leading to, you guessed it. Both the writer's co-dep and his addiction are in danger of proving fatal. Surely understanding the nature of the illness is the only solution. Self-honesty, a desire to get clean, and a group of people in the same boat. I know it works for me.

Thanks Magic. Much appreciated

Hi Ritchie and Rylie Your Mum won second prize in the competition!!! HOW GOOD IS THAT? If there's a competition for children you should definitely enter this. Well done Rachel. All the best Richard

It may not seem like a pleasant breeze right now but it's awfully pleasant from where I'm standing. Maybe I've been smelling the stale stench of rich men's gastronomic farts for too long, but this little breeze is as sweet as honey. I could well be miles off here but I have a picture of you in my head, Barry; a quiet, measured, sensitive, understanding and giving man. Hardly an anti-government civil-warmongerer prepared to do whatever it takes to give America back to its people, but there's a lesson to be learnt from that. It just goes to show how necessary action needs to be taken against those that have made pitiful fools of us for so long. Democracy is a dead dog in the middle of the road that no one wants to drag to the curb for fear of becoming infected by the flies that have fed off its carcass, blissfully unaware that their faces are covered in fly bites. I just made that up! All the best Richard

Hi Peskmeister, I'm in one of 'those' moods again today, but I know what you say is true. Small steps and all that.. but I can't help thinking we're slowly walking into a trap, like those that heard the sirens in 'The Time Machine'. The sun's just come out and there's nothing like a good stretch.

Great stuff. Strangely reminiscent of 70's style banter, comically masculine sexual honesty that may be lost on many a young leggy lass of late. Those days of uncompromising comedy need to return to soften us all up.

I don't think censorship is necessary on this site but i'm not the boss. If Jay McInnerny (don't know the spelling) posted chapters of his 'American Psycho' (which was made into a mainstream blockbuster for all adults to pay to see at the cinema) or Burroughs came back from the dead and posted the gratuitously vile of 'Naked Lunch' (which Lucian Freud was happy to have one of his more shocking paintings adorn the front cover), I wonder whether Tony would hold a firm hand up to them. Lucian Freud's art has been perceived by art critics as extremely vile and disgusting, yet it is now among the most expensive selections of paintings in the world. Censorship is as pointlessly senseless an exercise as gangs killing gays in Africa or Muslim women being stoned to death for (apparently) playing away. Today, in my daily meditation for recovering addicts, this is the message of the day. 'BEING HUMAN' 'We are spirits. It appears that god lent us these bodies that we might learn about pleasure, have a way of acquiring knowledge and be of aid to our fellow man. We learn about the proper use of these qualities by misusing them, and suffering as a result. Misusing our gifts is a large part of being spirit in the human form. Obviously God has a plan for us. So when we do very human things we should not punish ourselves, but accept our humanness. For if God wanted us to be purely spirit, He would have dispensed with our bodies and made us so. Have I learnt to accept my humanness? Lord, show me that my humanness is not to be despaired of, but loved as a very real path to You my Creator.

thanks' ashb. Glad you enjoyed it.

I get that feeling that I won't be able to write well any more, too, John. In fact, I got it while I was reading some poetry at the last Abc evening. I suddenly thought that what I was reading was total shit and sped through it to finish. Afterwards, I questioned my talent in a waay that I'd never done before and came to the conclusion that writing's 95% hard work and 5% talent, especially after listening to an extract of Laura Wilkinson's 'Bloodmining' at the evening. To her writing, I could hear form, structure and meaning that made it sound effortless, and for the first time I realised that I was a lazy sod whose opinion of his own talent was vastly over-rated. When I was 25, the Evening Standard bought three 1000-word stories from me, but while they were grooming me for a big and bright future, I was busy drugging and drinking the money they gave me. When I went for a meeting with Nick Foulkes, he saw right through me and I was dropped like a wet handkerchief. This had a profound effect on me. I gave up copywriting and moved to Paris, 'to write like Orwell', but again all I did was set up raves and drug it up with the glitterati, all the time announcing myself as a writer when the only time i wrote was when I was in a hotel or away from the scene. I've used up alot of braincells and misused the gift of writing my thoughts. At the other end of the scale, you work through blocks by gritting your teeth and writing anyway. I applaud your strength of mind and can imagine that sooner or later you will break through to a higher plain and write as you always intended. For me, since the last Abc evening, I think I've finally accepted that I'm not a writing guru and while there's no point in regretting the past, my career may now be limited to smaller, less ambitious work, ie. poetry, children's books, shorts. Writing a novel is beyond me now but I can do just as much and give as much meaning with what I intend to do now. All the best Richard

thanks Insert, I've got the bit between my teeth now. Hope you're well. Beautiful weather. Richard

Amazon, about £4 used. Get the hardback. My grandma's Molly in the book. She's on the first page in her pram outside the pub where my great grandparents used to drink. Great grandpap was a raging alcoholic and died when his body blew up. He sold his trousers before he popped his clogs and got two bottles of ale for them. It's a hair-raiser. Enjoy. Tressell I only got to about three years ago, but the author explained perfectly my own political views. It gave me an understanding of how things haven't changed much, and how much things need changing.

Thanks Insert, It's positively brimming with regret but there's always hope, which is grossly undervalued in the world. Hi Rich, Better than a jigsaw puzzle. Now that's what I call a compliment! Enjoy your vacation, buddy. All the best Richard Richard

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