Spam

It’s so annoying. I particularly dislike the spam that suggests I should enlarge a certain part of my body. I do not wish to enlarge any of my organs, particularly my private parts. Even if I did, I’d go and see a doctor or buy a magnifying glass, but the last thing I would do, is follow up a link that had been sent as spam.

People must take the bait of this kind of spam though, otherwise it wouldn’t be sent. If you are one of these people, then a word of advice.

The organ you need to enlarge, is your brain. If you don’t believe me, then just ask your six Russian penfriends and the Nigerian businessman who wants to deposit £13,000,000 in your bank account...

And just why is it that men don’t understand women?

Well...how many men do you know, actually can be bothered reading the manual.

Some new information has come my way about what actually happened in the Garden of Eden.

You know the way partaking of forbidden fruit, basically meant that Adam and Eve had sex? Well, that isn’t the way things went down. It was all a big mistake. You, see, Eve took a bite out of the apple, and it went down the wrong way. It was her first apple, remember, so understandably she had a little trouble. So there she was, gesticulating down her throat and pointing to Adam. Adam, quickly summed up the situation, dropped what he was doing and ran over to her. He couldn’t believe his luck. She’d never offered him a blowjob before... but no, wait... he realised she had something stuck in her windpipe and without any hesitation he got behind her to perform the Heimlich Manoeuvre.

It was at that point that God turned up, just as Adam gave an upward thrust and the apple popped out.

‘Adam!’ God says, ‘what art thou doing with Eve?’

Adam relinquished his hold on Eve, and they both stood before the Lord. He was about to explain when he realised he couldn’t grass her up. If he did that, she’d be thrown out of the garden and when all was said and done, he did love her. Besides, he had no idea how to use the cooker. So he said the first thing that came into his head.

‘We were making love,’ he said. Surely God wouldn’t have any problems with such a wonderful thing.

There was a long silence.

Then God said, ‘right. I’ll get your coats.’

And that’s how it all happened...

And another thing

80% of statistics are totally wrong, which means the other 11% is spot on.

It’s late. Not many people are up at this hour. There’s me, of course; and some bats as well. I expect they’re up doing bat stuff; flossing or cleaning the wax out of their big ears with industrial size cotton buds; I don’t really know what they get up to, to be honest, but I do know they fly into trees in the night, especially when the moon is hidden. I know they’re not supposed to do that, having been provided with radar of some sort by nature, which is rather considerate of it really. Mind you, if nature was really that considerate, bats would be able to order a takeaway. Instead they fly around, eating insects and sucking the juice out of the odd unwary cow, and then fly into an oak that some inconsiderate conservationist planted in their flight path.

How do I know bats fly into trees? Well, they’ve got those flat faces, haven’t they. Stand in the middle of a forest on a dark night and you’ll hear the rustle of the leaves, and the call of the night owls, and then the faint thud of a bat smacking into an oak. It’s true. Sometimes you hear the occasional fox sniggering.

Nature can be, at times, a bit of a bastard.

You may have seen this picture before. That’s right. It’s a mouse with an ear grafted onto its back. The mouse was used in an experiment to see if it could keep the ear alive. Unfortunately the experiment was never completed. Every time the scientist went to check on the mouse, he couldn’t find it. Poor thing could hear him coming a mile off and used to hide behind the door.

The last I heard, he escaped from the lab. He hadn’t actually intended to make a run for it. He was just going to pop over the road to the council estate 200 yards away, and ask the man at No.27 not to breathe so loudly. It was keeping him awake at night. Then he realised he was out in the open and decided to keep going. Besides, he could hear a lady mouse opening a packet of Rich Tea biscuits two miles away and decided he was peckish.

He’s now working in Ireland as the country's Early Warning System in case of nuclear attack.

Okay, I admit it. I’m a duck; a yellow billed duck to be precise. Nothing wrong with that, you might think, but no. Some people have a problem with it, especially when I started a friendship with a woman I met down at the pond. She was lonely, you see. Been in a relationship for a few years but it stifled her. She wanted to spread her wings and believe me, I know that feeling. So, we got talking and discovered we had the same interests; good food, swimming, nature, Swan Lake...oh... and Woody Allen movies... and I have to admit, I fell for her in a big way. Of course she didn’t say these things to me, not exactly. I just sort of knew. I’m very perceptive, for a duck.

Every evening, that summer, she came with tokens of her affection; lumps of bread. The other ducks, uncouth as ever, ate most of it, but I didn’t mind. My heart was full with summer. I would sit beside her, as she sat by the pond, and it lapped gently upon the periphery of those gentle moments I spent with her. I knew, deep in my heart, she was my soulmate, my beloved. And I know she felt it. Every now and then she would sigh softly. A tear would appear, tracing the curve of her cheek and fall. Once, as she stood and looked out on the water, a tear fell on me, straight on to my bill. It felt like a kiss from the deepest part of her. I was quackless in my joy.

The following day, a Sunday, a day of sacred intent, I waited for her on the pond. I was intent on telling her the depth of my feeling. And when she came I felt I would burst with love for her. But, she was not alone. She was with a man, not a duck. Curious, I paddled over, wondering, why she had brought this stranger to me.

Some ducks, at this point, wiser ducks, might have hidden in the reed beds, but not I. As ducks go, I’m rather persistent; especially in matters of the heart. I paddled away upstream like a fool, intent on my heart's desire. And so I was there when he turned to her, and pulled her close, and she lay her head on his chest for a moment. I stopped paddling, aghast, letting the tide pull me closer as my heart slowly sank to the bottom of the pond; and when she looked up at him, and he looked into her eyes, and then they kissed... I could have crispy ducked right then.

The water chilled my bones as I saw the warmth of their embrace. I waddled out of the water, shaking it from my tail, trying to maintain my dignity. And with a tear in my eye, I looked up at them.

The kiss ended. The three of us stood in silence, a man, a woman and a duck.

Heartbroken, I quacked, once feebly.

They looked at me and the man spoke to me, he said, ‘hey there, little fellah. I’m in love with this woman, and I’m gonna spend my life with her. What do you think of that?’

I swallowed, gutted, and once more... quacked.

And then she spoke.

‘Typical male,’ she said, brushing her lips against his neck, ‘he’s got a one quack mind...

I heard on the radio today that there was an idea being circulated in certain official circles about locking people up before they have committed any crime. This is something, so the argument went, that would only happen if the person had a tendency toward committing an offence due to a psychological instability. I think this is dangerous ground, to presume someone will be a criminal, because where will it stop.

I can see a time when a child is being born and the first words it hears are, ‘he’s so cute,’ and ‘he’s got his dad’s smile,’ and ‘ anything you say will be taken down and used in evidence against you...’

It’s traumatic enough for a baby, moving along the birth canal... or whatever it’s called... toward the light, only to find it’s a policeman’s torch and he’s saying, ‘come out! We know you’re in there! Step away from the placenta and put your ten little piggies in the air or we’ll slap your mum!’

It’s true. An apple a day keeps the doctor away

But only if you actually manage to hit him with it while he’s walking up to your door

If you’re really serious about it, try a coconut...