The lizard dances to the beat of poetry and prose, you only need to pay a visit to skinkbeatreview.com to see how true this is. The December issue is a nice compact place to read about deadlifting, zombies, and forbidden love, all the things that make up what it means to be a man. Or a zombie, but the components are there.
The skink beat is one that everyone can dance to. Just don’t step on the lizards tail, please.
In the UK, the weather is currently experiencing stormy weather. It’s cold and I’m wrapped up in a blanket most of the time, I mean, have you seen those rising energy prices?
But Fiery Scribe Review is one such place to visit when you’re experiencing a bit of a chill. It’s a site packed with words and words of warmth, stories, both fiction and non fiction, and poems to get you through the winter, but also beyond, for when the soul is burning, I guess it doesn’t matter if you’re huddled in blankets or lying by the beach.
My contribution to the website is a small piece about an out of order toilet, because I really like to write about toilets. You can read it here. I think when I sit on the toilet I often think of stories such as this one, and a fire is lit under the seat, you could see I become a fiery scribe. Ahem.
There’s a small town called Bear Creek somewhere out there, somewhere by the forests, somewhere by the sea, somewhere wherever it may be. You’ll find it, I’m sure. It’s a wonderful little town, welcoming, you can see for yourself at welcometobearcreek.com , so many tales about people just like your and me, I’m sure you’ll agree. But maybe stay indoors after watershed hours (do we still have this on TV?) creep in. Because, well, you never know. Some people seem to end up staying far longer than planned, and its usually unplanned. Take a look in the waters and give me a wave sometimes, alright? I’m down there, you can catch me poking my head out from the waves around quarter to three. AM, always AM.
A lit mag detailing the ins and outs of one supernatural town. Like that show on TV about the cherry pie, but this is one you can add your experiences to, with your own Bear Creek stories, we’ve all seen something whilst visiting, like this one here by me, right here, and here. You mean Bear Creek isn’t by the sea? News to me, maybe you need to visit during the summer, geography can be a funny old thing round here.
Like a small town in the UK that may or may not be real, come and visit. You may never leave.
I wish I looked like Winston Churchill
In this country I’d never be out of work
Think of all the conventions, parties and events
I’d be the go to Winston Churchill
I’d even try and put on that voice
I’d even do the Churchill strip shows
I’d work it like he did in World War II
To be like someone famous
That’s what I want to be
But really, any celeb will do.
Just something about Churchill
He’s the one I truly wish to be
The way this country is going
I could be a regular on Gbeebies
My one month trial has come to an end.
January 2022 was a time for experimenting with new objectives and goals
Didn’t make much use of the cooking
Nor the workout routine
And I think the books for writing have been gathering dust
The volunteer centre was perhaps a little too deep into the trial to even try
So the one month trial has come to an end
And for some reason I can’t seem to renew it into February
I have to take all my objectives and goals
And start them once again, from the beginning
I’ve been doing this for 32 years,
And I’m running out of months to trial
Life can be hard
It sure can
How many times do I go to sleep brooding
Rather than snoozing (I’ll redact this line later)
But despite every past, present, future problem
That clouds my insides
I can fix everything right up when I realise just one thing.
I have enough ingredients in to make pancakes.
Yes, this is the good life, just for one day, one morning, one hour,
One shake.
Walking home at midnight was something we used to always do
Most of the time it was long after midnight
Say, quarter to three
But now it’s not so common
I feel my body sag under the weight of my backpack
And everyone I see, they stay so far away from me
I guess maybe I’m now the one who looks kind of scary
But still, it’s hard to walk home at midnight
And I haven’t even been to a party
In my backpack is were I keep all my sweet dreams
And how heavy they are at midnight
There was a special event during generation 3.
Visit Preston Gamestation and get yourself a ticket to a special legendary event.
I forget what the event was. I forget what the legendary was.
But I do remember one guy in his forties asking all us tweens the same question
‘Has anybody got a Feebas?’
Again, and again.
And I did, but would you have answered to that?
I’ve started gnashing my teeth.
At home on my own
In the supermarket queue
Watching movies
Drinking wine
On the phone
Whilst using the loo
My teeth won’t stop gnashing
The sound is soft and wet
Not like the grinding we often hear in TV shows
Gnash Gnash Gnash
When did it start
Why did it start
For some reason it helps me get through the day
Gnash Gnash Gnash
I guess it gives me something to do
I picked Totodile whilst waiting for the doctor.
I don’t think I screamed as much as usual.
I had someone looking up to me through the LCD.
Even when the needle twisted on in.
Seventeen years later I’d be doing it all again.
Only this time the needle twisting inside my arm,
Was the emptiness I felt sipping a coffee in an art cafe.
But still, Totodile was there for me.
Still is.
Channel Static 