A while ago I wrote a story called A Bad Dream. I’ve recently given it a bit of a re-write. I’ve tightened it up, changed it a little in places and given it a new ending, all of which [I think] makes it a better read.
Anyway, my mucker Col Bury has posted it on his brand spanking new site here.
Please give it a read and let me know what you think. Cheers!
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If you haven’t yet been over, get your arses over to Lily Childs Feardom and check out here February Femmes Fatales. There’s a new story every day of the month.
There have been some crackers already by Lily herself, R.S. Bohn and Marissa Farrar, to name a few.
Check it out here.
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These jokes were sent to me in an email and I thought I’d share them with you all. They’re not meant to offend anybody, they’re a bit of fun and meant to give you a giggle. Hope you like…..
The plane leaves Heathrow Airport under the control of a Jewish captain; his co-pilot is Chinese. It’s the first time they’ve flown together and an awkward silence between the two seems to indicate a mutual dislike.
Once they reach cruising altitude, the Jewish captain activates the auto-pilot, leans back in his seat, and mutters, “I don’t like Chinese.”
“No rike Chinese?’”asks the co-pilot, “why not?”
“You people bombed Pearl Harbour, that’s why!”
“No, no,” the co-pilot protests, “Chinese not bomb Peahl Hahbah! That Japanese, not Chinese.”
“Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese… ..doesn’t matter, you’re all alike!”
There’s a few minutes of silence.
“I no rike Jews!” the co-pilot suddenly announces.
“Oh yeah, why not?” asks the captain.
“Jews sink Titanic!” says the co-pilot.
“What? You’re insane! Jews didn’t sink the Titanic!” exclaims the captain, “It was an iceberg!”
“Iceberg, Goldberg, Spielberg, Shimberg , ….nomattah…all same!”
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A Blonde was sent on her way to Heaven. Upon arrival, a concerned St Peter met her at the Pearly Gates.
‘I’m sorry,’ St Peter said, ‘But Heaven is suffering from an overload of godly souls and we have been forced to put up an Entrance Exam for new arrivals to ease the burden of Heavenly Arrivals.’
‘That’s cool’ said the Blonde, ‘What does the Entrance Exam consist of?’
‘Just three questions’ said St Peter.
‘Which are?’ asked the Blonde.
‘The first,’ said St Peter, ‘is, which two days of the week start with the letter ‘T’? The second is how many seconds are there in a year? The third is what was the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?’
The Blonde stared on blankly.
‘Now,’ said St Peter, ‘Go away and think about those questions and when I call upon you, I shall expect you to have those answers for me.’
So the Blonde went away and gave those three questions some considerable thought (I expect you to do the same).
The following morning, St Peter called upon the Blonde and asked if she had considered the questions, to which she replied, ‘I have.’
‘Well then,’ said St Peter, ‘Which two days of the week start with the letter T?’
The Blonde said, ‘Today and Tomorrow.’
St Peter pondered this answer for some time, and decided that indeed the answer can be applied to the question.
‘Well then, could I have your answer to the second of the three questions’ St Peter went on, ‘how many seconds in a year?’
The Blonde replied, ‘Twelve!’
‘Only twelve’ exclaimed St Peter, ‘How did you arrive at that figure?’
‘Easy,’ said the Blonde, ‘there’s the second of January, the second of February, right through to the second of December, giving a total of twelve seconds.’
St Peter looked at the Blonde and said, ‘I need some time to consider your answer before I can give you a decision.’ And he walked away shaking his head.
A short time later, St Peter returned to the Blonde. ‘I’ll allow the answer to stand, but you need to get the third and final question absolutely correct to be allowed into Heaven. Now, can you tell me the answer to the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?’
The blonde replied: ‘Of the three questions, I found this the easiest to answer.’
‘Really!’ exclaimed St Peter, ‘And what is the answer?’
‘Yes, Andy,’ said the Blonde.
This totally floored St Peter, and he paced this way and that, deliberating the answer. Finally, he could not stand the suspense any longer, and turning to the Blonde, asked ‘How in God’s name did you arrive at THAT answer?’
‘Easy’ said the Blonde, ‘Andy sat, Andy watched, Andy waited til his billy boiled.’
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Have a great day!