Tag Archives: strange

The other man

“I say.” said the man.

“I say!” said the other man.

“No you didn’t.” exclaimed the man.

“I bloody did.” replied the other man.

“I sayed first.” said the man.

“Well I said.” objected the other man, “And besides, ‘sayed’ isn’t even a word.”

The man took a deep breath. The other man did the same.

“Look,” said the man, “I’m going to go get a coffee and I’d really rather you just, you know, did your own thing from now on.”

The other man thought for a moment.

“Black?” he asked.

“What?” puzzled the man.

“Black coffee?” asked the other man.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” the man said, rather abruptly.

“hmmm,” mused the other man, “I used to have milk in my coffee. I don’t any more.”

“Since when?” asked the man, before realising he really didn’t care for the answer.

“Just then.” answered the other man.

The man rolled his eyes and sighed. It was going to be a long afterlife.


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Martyn was a lean man, both in appearance and with the truth. Though he was easy-going and approachable it was wise never to ask about or attempt to enter his garage.

The neighbours often spoke about his penchant for DIY, and in particular his wonderful patio. It was noted that he must be a perfectionist of sorts due to the number of times he had relaid it over the last year.

Martyn’s wife was a forgiving sort, her frizzy hair a metaphor for the way she approached her life. One morning at 2am, having broken the unwritten rule of never drinking orange squash before bed, she awoke to find Martyn in the bathroom on his knees meticulously scrubbing the floors and walls.

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The penguin looked at me

A fish past three

A cabbage in a tree.

The milkman walked right by

and the penguin looked at me.


A quarter past door

Two rainclouds on the floor.

The postman’s on a camel

and the carrot’s looking sore.


A Ten to squirrel

Nothing rhymes with squirrel.

A bulb filmed an orange

on the ninth in the Wirral.


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