Zoza was woken by the sound of hoovering. Her head lolled from her pillow and when she pulled her hair from her face and opened her eyes she was greeted with the sight of the hoover guzzling a sock from the floor. Xoxox pulled it away from the playful appliance and greeted Zoza with a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I SAID GOOD-”
“Yeah. What time is it?” Zoza asked.
“About half seven.”
“I’m going to go back to sleep. Any response to the ad yet?”
Xoxox shook his head and looked anxiously at the hoover’s ‘on’ switch, itching to get going again and when Zoza grunted in disappointment and turned over in bed he took it as a sign to start back up.
“Oh Xoxox… XOXOX!”
“Perhaps we won’t hear the phone if you’re hoovering around all the time. Maybe you could…”
“I’ll go and do it outside.”
Following Jaori’s debut cookery column last week Digestive Press were inundated with letters of support for our new chef. I’m glad that you all think he is as special as I do. Some of you wanted to know where we found him and sadly I cannot answer that question as I have yet to be able to make contact with any of the array of fine restaurants on his impressive list of references. Still, he tells me that he is set to star this week on the BBC’s ‘Asparagus Weekend’ which will run on BBC 39. I’ve never heard of this channel as I only get terrestrial but those of you who have extra-terrestrial, please remember to tune in. Jaori still found time to pass on to us this exclusive chicken recipe. Continue reading
Rameron Cameron-Bert’s career in public transport came to a sudden end when he fell asleep whilst driving a tram to Altrincham. He had been in the job for an impressive two weeks but the boredom of going back and forth along the same track had beaten him and now he was jobhunting again. He was trying to use techniques picked up from watching hours of hypnotic snooker on the television – lining up a new career but at the same time keeping in mind the one after that as well and trying to ensure he was in the right position.
“Another bacon butty Ram?”
He nodded and I threw some more bacon on the grill. At the counter Rameron finished the last few bites and slid his plate across the counter. It was his third butty of the morning. What the hell, I threw on even more bacon. It sizzled and began to curl and crisp. Continue reading
I had been thinking for a while about including some recipes on Digestive Press so that you, the readers, could make some lovely food to eat whilst reading. Then, out of the blue, world famous chef and leading exponent of the ‘delusionthusiism’ strain of cookery Jaori Loverduck got in contact and offered his services to Digestive Press. I have to admit that I had never heard of him before but he comes with a list of references that I have not checked out yet but am sure are all real. So, today Jaori submits his first cookery column and, suitably, he has chosen a recipe which includes pressing digestives. Well, more bashing them really… Continue reading
You held me by my chocolate boots,
Upside down, my body stiff with fear.
My eyes were iced-on, decorative only,
I could not see what was going to happen next.
I could not see you put me in a paper bag,
Just lay there trying to stay calm, in crumbs.
When you picked me up again I could not see,
Did not know where you were putting me next.
My head softened as it hit the tea
My brain finally disintegrated and
Whilst my tea-soaked noggin reeled
You bit in, taking me unawares.
You took one eye, one side of my face
Then removed an unanaesthetised arm.
I wanted to cry out, stop the barbarity
But my mouth was merely decorative too.
I may be small but I am a man
I have rights, I am a man
I am a man, a gingerbread man.
My mother was worried about hackers.
“But mum, it’s perfectly safe,” I told her, tapping my head although she couldn’t see that down the phone line. “And think of all the things it’ll be useful for. You’re always complaining that I don’t phone home enough or that you can’t get hold of me. Well now you won’t need to get me on a landline or mobile, you can contact me direct to my head.”
My new brain was useful for other things too. Now I had Microsoft Word to record my thoughts in and Excel to organise money on I don’t know how I used to get by with my normal organic brain. Then there was the internet on tap, itunes for all my music and solitaire for when I couldn’t get to sleep. Continue reading
I was intending to post a new story today but I have been a little bit busy with doing other things, mostly looking for a job. So, here is a list of jobs I have considered – Continue reading
Our travel correspondent Skeeby Richmond left Digestive Press HQ three weeks ago with nothing but a rucksack full of clothes and his lucky tin of baked beans, a family heirloom dating back to the sixties. Now he posts his first report from his journeys through far away, unknown places. Continue reading
He worked by lamplight, his pen moving quickly as he tried to jot down all the ideas he had before they left his head. It was odd how they just appeared and sat there before they were zapped away by memory. Sometimes they came to him when he was walking down the street, others came as he slept and then hid in the trenches of his mind until he dragged them out and put them on paper.
His brother had enjoyed the last comic he had sent out to him and told him he should become an artist. He would like that, if he ever got the chance. Who was to say. Another couple of years and he could be far away from here, just like his brother, you just never knew what was going to happen. Continue reading
Last Saturday I saw Misty’s Big Adventure play for the eleventh time. It struck me that this was enough for a whole football team of Misty’s Big Adventure gigs, a concept which I realised was not entirely possible. When I was younger I remember picking a football team comprising cartoon dogs but at least that made sense on some level. Anyway, this all left me with a hurting head and so I had a sit down. This gave me a chance to think about what is so great with Misty’s Big Adventure.