Heathen holidays

In days of yore, my dad didn’t work on Good Friday or Easter Monday or Tuesday! And now everybody in Britain does, I suppose. But over here, where Viking bums on pews are as common as hens’ teeth, people are officially off work on three days, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Monday. That’s as many days off as at Juletide. Although that’s child’s-play compared with Cyprus where if you’re crafty you can celebrate two Xmases and two Easters. I fully expect LW to report that the New World doesn’t have any days off at Easter at all – but what of the rest of you charioteers? Do tell.

A male fairytale

Once upon a time, a Prince asked a beautiful Princess, “Will you marry me?”

The Princess said, “No!!!”

And the Prince lived happily ever after and rode motorcycles and banged skinny long-legged big-titted broads and hunted and fished and raced cars and went to naked bars and dated women half his age and drank whiskey, beer and Jack D and never heard bitching and never paid child support or alimony and banged cheerleaders and kept his house and guns and ate spam and potato chips and beans and blew enormous farts and never got cheated on while he was at work and all his friends and family thought he was frikin cool as hell and he had tons of money in the bank and left the toilet seat up.

The end.

CRIKEY! Judging now completed….. short story competition

This is difficult.

I have just read the two entries for the creative writing competition and find I’m completely stuck: I can’t make the decision.

Both Ara and Bilby have written stories that carried me forward, making me want to read on. Each story is so very different and that makes it harder still!

Ara’s story made me feel so sad for all boys sent out to boarding school at such a young age, especially as I am currently reading Andrew Motion’s memoir of childhood (In the Blood) which details the horrors of his schooling before common entrance. Her blending of the scary fearsome tiger into AA Milne’s Tigger at the end made me smile.

Bilby’s story of an evil man looking for a way out of a relationship is chilling – in that it could really happen! This man, an opportunist,emotionally cruel, and completely ego-centric, is caught out while the girl is saved by the skin of her teeth. Interesting stuff.

I’m going out into the garden where the frost has now lifted.

I may be gone sometime. By the time I come back in I shall have made a decision 🙂

I shall add it to the comments

Denmark makes a killing

Actress Sofie Grabol presented Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall with gifts during a visit to the set of Danish TV Series The Killing in Copenhagen, Denmark

You see, in a single week this draughty archipelago has become host to the Big Time. Not only patronised by god’s gift to the monarchy, we have been graced by the EU finance mob trying to raise a tax on bank transactions – which the PM, Mrs Kinnock can’t agree with or disagree with. No change there then. But best of all the EDL are in the Second City, Århus, to ….. well, to demonstrate. Not sure why, except that an islamist group plans to object.

Let’s hope it’s all jaw, jaw; not war, war.

Dewani appeal decision

Anni Dewani

Two High court judges have ruled that the extradition of Anni Dewani’s husband, accused by South African authorities of masterminding the murder of his wife be temporarily halted. (DT article here)

They haven’t upheld the appeal but temporarily halted it.

Members may recall that on the 10th August, 2011 District Judge Howard Riddle approved the extradition request a decision subsequently approved by The UK Home Secretary (Theresa May.)

It was decided by the High Court judges that Shrien Dewani is too unwell to stand trial, he is apparently suffering from post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD.) They added that  it was plainly in the interests of justice that he should be extradited “as soon as he is fit” to be tried.

My thoughts and prayers go out to Anni’s family, still no finality.

Meanwhile, Shrein remains locked up in some nuthouse somewhere or other, I view it as a self imposed life sentence, his life must be an absolute misery at the moment, far better for him to recover, go to Cape Town and end the matter one way or the other.

The Scales of Justice (March Creative Writing Competition)

He didn’t know why he’d agreed to go on the bloody walk. He was bored by the routine, the domestication, the girl; however prettily packaged.  He watched her pick up the house keys which shared a ring with a miniature red penknife (nail file, corkscrew, scissors, blade) and an antique silver whistle, made in England, with some stranger’s spit lurking inside; useless things, worthless sentimental nonsense. He had never understood her attachment to memories. Continue reading “The Scales of Justice (March Creative Writing Competition)”