It's a good idea to take your bucket and spade these days. the long and the short of it

Triclops: a collection of forty short stories by Avery Mathers, Susan Howe and Lee Williams.

In the summer months we often venture down to the coast for a swim. Some years back, when the nippers still nipped with milk teeth, I got roped in to building sand castles. I remember one time spending hours constructing my wonky version of Hohenzollern castle. Feeling very proud, I stood back to admire my creation.
‘What is it, Daddy?’ they asked in turn.
‘It’s a castle, Boys.’
They frowned, momentarily, then burst into laughter and sat on it. Why does writing remind me of that sand castle I wonder?
Hey saucy, that's the best offer I've had all night.

I have used this as an extended metaphor in one of my unpubbed novels "A,B&E", "Not In My Name" and "52FF" (flash fiction anthology) all available on Amazon Kindle

"How a psychopath makes sweet love. I can get you ringside. Royal box even."

Marc, John ... does this help explain the phenomenon?



Two men were sitting next to each other at a bar. After awhile, one guy looks at the other and says, 'I can't help but think, from listening to you, that you're from Ireland.'
The other guy responds proudly, 'Yes, that I am!'
The first guy says, 'So am I! And where about from Ireland might you be'?
The other guy answers, 'I'm from Dublin, I am.'
The first guy responds, 'So am I!'
'Sure and begorra. And what street did you live on in Dublin ?
The other guy says, 'A lovely little area it was. I lived on McCleary Street in the old central part of town.'
The first guy says, 'Faith and it's a small world. So did I! So did I! And to what school would you have been going'?
The other guy answers, 'Well now, I went to St. Mary's, of course.'
The first guy gets really excited and says, 'And so did I. Tell me, what year did you graduate'?
The other guy answers, 'Well, now, let's see. I graduated in 1964.'
The first guy exclaims, 'The Good Lord must be smiling down upon us! I can hardly believe our good luck at winding up in the same bar tonight. Can you believe it? I graduated from St. Mary's in 1964 my own self!'
About this time, Vicky walks into the bar, sits down and orders a beer. Brian, the bartender, walks over to Vicky, shaking his head and mutters, 'It's going to be a long night tonight.'
Vicky asks, 'Why do you say that, Brian'?
'The Murphy twins are pissed again.'


Scias te fortasse Romanum esse si animal convivialissimum arbitreris esse caprum (Henricus Barbatus)


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I do love that joke, but's not as good as the blonde reading a newspaper on a train. She sees the headline "12 Brazilian soldiers die in Amazon disaster". She shakes her head at the tragic news, turns to the person next to her and says, "How many is a Brazilian?"

The above joke could also be told using the proverbial Irishman, but I don't like making jokes which unfairly stereotype them. I'll tell you for why:

I, too, have only been to Dublin once. And when I was there, I went to quite a nice, old pub where the toilets were located in the basement. Now, obviously, people in wheelchairs could not be expected to walk down a flight of steps to reach the disabled toilet, so the landlord had - at considerable expense, no doubt - installed a lift for these unfortunate souls.

However, when the lift had been installed, it had not been placed quite flush with the floor: the bottom of the lift was about two feet below it. This would cause noticeable problems for the wheelchair bound, but luckily the quick-thinking installers came up with an ingenius method for anyone using the lift to reach the disabled toilet: some more stairs.

Why make up jokes when reality works just as well? However, I suppose I ought to admit that we English aren't much better. Writing for yourself is writing for others: "My book could very well end up being reconstituted as a trestle table in a home for battered women." - Alan Partridge