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    #21
    Darn it. Well spotted again Ms MS.
    Last edited by xoggoth; 14 May 2015, 16:22.
    bloggoth

    If everything isn't black and white, I say, 'Why the hell not?'
    John Wayne (My guru, not to be confused with my beloved prophet Jeremy Clarkson)

    Comment


      #22
      I had a Bambi based deer. Forgotten its name. How heartless of me.
      bloggoth

      If everything isn't black and white, I say, 'Why the hell not?'
      John Wayne (My guru, not to be confused with my beloved prophet Jeremy Clarkson)

      Comment


        #23
        Originally posted by xoggoth View Post
        I had a Bambi based deer. Forgotten its name. How heartless of me.
        I remember all my dolls/teddies. Especially Joan. I could hardly forget Joan after my sister labelled our hospital patients, writing "JONE" on Joan's forehead in biro. I repaid by painting Anne (her Jone) black, for which I got a hiding. Not that I'm bitter...

        Comment


          #24
          Another old one that falls into the vaguely upbeat category Will write something new for next month's assignment. Maybe...

          Purple Lipstick

          Alison sits next to me in the office. She's a good laugh, a mate really. But this week, something's changed. She's changed. I think she fancies me!

          It started on Monday. Her chest. I dunno what happened, what girls do to go from flat chested to glorious cleavage in one weekend. You can't get a boob job that quickly can you? Maybe she got a new round 'em up bra, I just couldn't put my finger on it (though I wouldn't have minded trying!) I squinted at them all day, but I couldn't work it out, and if I wasn't careful she'd catch me at it.

          On Tuesday, they were still there! And they'd been joined by a new hair cut. All bouncy and light it was, and just a bit messy. Very sexy. I smiled at her when she came in. "Nice hair," I said. Girls like you to notice these things, don't they? (I thought, "Nice jugs, too," but my better judgement stopped me from voicing that one.)

          Wednesday, I was gobsmacked. Ali came to work in a skirt. I've never seen her in a skirt before, I didn't even realise she had legs! Believe me, she has - gorgeous ones that go all the way up. When she sat down and crossed her legs, you could see halfway up her thigh. I didn't get much work done on Wednesday, I was waiting for her to uncross and cross her legs. I think she saw me looking, but she just flicked her bouncy, messy hair and smiled.

          By Thursday, she'd gone the whole hog. Tits, hair, skirt and make-up. I've never seen Ali so much as put on lipstick before. But on Thursday, she'd done the whole thing. Purple lipstick, green eyes, and that blusher stuff that girls put on their cheeks. She'd gone from one of the lads who happened to be a girl last Friday, to a glorious vision of womanhood this Thursday.

          On Friday, I decided I should make an effort too. I ironed my best shirt, and put on clean socks. I got to work early. When Ali arrived, she looked as gorgeous as she had the day before. She smelt different though. Nice different, I mean, although it did make me want to sneeze. I stared at her all morning. She saw me a couple of times and smiled. At lunchtime, I decided that, when she got back, I'd make my move. I watched out the window, and her car pulled up. She got out, flashing her thigh as she climbed out the car. I was just preparing my move, when Damien from accounts got out the other side. She smiled her sexy smile at him. I noticed purple lipstick on his collar.

          I'm not too down-hearted though. Ali's still a good mate, and now a sexy one at that, and let's face it, who wants to arse around ironing shirts every morning?
          Last edited by mudskipper; 15 May 2015, 15:54.

          Comment


            #25
            Darn shame. Work things always seem to end in disappointment. Recall working late at a contract few years ago and a female was singing behind the filing cabinets. Great voice. I joined in and we sang this fabulous soaring duet together. Then she came round the end and Ugly Betty met Albert Steptoe. Very romantic while it lasted though.
            bloggoth

            If everything isn't black and white, I say, 'Why the hell not?'
            John Wayne (My guru, not to be confused with my beloved prophet Jeremy Clarkson)

            Comment


              #26
              Originally posted by xoggoth View Post
              Darn shame. Work things always seem to end in disappointment. Recall working late at a contract few years ago and a female was singing behind the filing cabinets. Great voice. I joined in and we sang this fabulous soaring duet together. Then she came round the end and Ugly Betty met Albert Steptoe. Very romantic while it lasted though.
              Albert? Is that you?

              Comment


                #27
                Betty! I haven't been able to get you out of my mind! I think I love you!
                bloggoth

                If everything isn't black and white, I say, 'Why the hell not?'
                John Wayne (My guru, not to be confused with my beloved prophet Jeremy Clarkson)

                Comment


                  #28
                  [QUOTE=mudskipper;2094358

                  I'm not too down-hearted though. Ali's still a good mate, and now a sexy one at that, and let's face it, who wants to arse around ironing shirts every morning?[/QUOTE]


                  very bloke thought!
                  Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.

                  Comment


                    #29
                    Excuses not to go to work

                    Two weeks into September and summer was back with lots of sun and temperatures hitting 27’C. It was the perfect weather for a week’s camping with his new girlfriend but here he was on a Monday morning in front of his computer in his stuffy office with all his holiday used up. Brian stared out of the window at the lovely blue sky above the grimy office blocks. Maybe he should go off sick for a week. After all, he had never had a day off in the five years he had worked there, unlike most of his colleagues, so why should he feel guilty about it? Why should he be penalised just for being healthy?

                    He didn’t feel good about it but the next day he phoned up his boss and said he had stomach pains and a bad case of the runs, probably some bug he had picked up or maybe something he had eaten. He hoped he would be ok soon. Brian had an exemplary record and the boss was fine with it, just said “Ok Brian, come in when you’re ready”. He packed his camping gear into the car and set off to pick up his girlfriend. The balmy weather did not last long but they had three lovely days on the beach in Dorset before the temperature dipped and the grey clouds blew in. It was Friday and he decided to have one last relaxing day at home playing his computer games, then he would return to work on Monday feeling refreshed and ready for some hard work, his employers would benefit from his dishonesty.

                    He didn’t normally drink a lot, but that Sunday evening with his mates he went over the top a bit and woke up with a real hangover. Feeling distinctly muzzy, he did not think through his excuses before phoning work to say he would not be in as he still had stomach problems. When the boss asked if he had seen a doctor, he could only reply no but would be arranging an appointment. The next day he sat up in bed and wondered what to do. Should he go in and say it had all suddenly cleared up and he had cancelled the appointment? It sounded possible but a bit suspicious. His brother had had a grumbling appendix and used to bore him stiff by telling him all about it. That was an idea! He would give it another day or two, then go in, say the doc had diagnosed a grumbling appendix which antibiotics would probably fix but which needed monitoring. A chronic problem would be a good ticket for more time off in the future.

                    It was Thursday evening and he decided he would go in tomorrow. That would look as if he was much more keen to get to work than if he had rolled in on the Monday. He spent an hour or two on the internet looking at all the symptoms of chronic appendicitis so he could come up with some convincing details if anyone asked. Some of the symptoms were a bit embarrassing, as you would expect from conditions down there, so that would be a good excuse for reluctance to go into too much detail. He was about done when a comment on one health site told him he had another problem. Having been off for eight days he would have to produce a fit note from the doctor. Damn it! He knew the boss was a stickler for paperwork and was sure to want one. The next day, his boss lived up to his stickler reputation and came by his desk to ask for it. He could only say he had forgotten to bring it and would do so tomorrow. At this point, what did one more lie matter? If his previous ones were revealed he would probably be sacked anyway.

                    That evening he searched the internet for ways to get a fake fit note and was astonished at how easy it was. There were websites giving plenty of advice on how to fake a fit note and selling templates for the purpose. On searching a bit more he found he did not even need to pay for one, the same document was available on a government website! All he had to do was remove the red "SAMPLE", print it out and fill in the necessary details. His online research helped him to make the notes convincing and he soon found his doctor’s details. The signature didn’t matter, if anyone went as far as checking that, he was doomed anyway.

                    Dishonesty gets easier the more you practice it and his chronic appendicitis gave him some nice time off over the next few months. He had tried not to overdo it but in late spring his girlfriend found this really cheap Mediterranean holiday going and it seemed just too good to miss. But was a controlled grumbling condition an excuse for ten days off? He knew it would not be, his boss had already revealed his exasperation and suggested that he should perhaps seek a more permanent solution involving surgery. Oh well, it would mean the end of his free ticket but it was worth it. The next fake fit note said he was due to undergo an appendectomy and would be unfit to return to work for two or three weeks. The holiday was great and he returned to the office feeling relaxed. He explained his tan by saying he had sat in the garden and soaked up the sun while recuperating.

                    September brought another Indian summer and here he was again on a Monday morning in front of his computer in the stuffy office with all his holiday used up. This time Brian looked at the grimy office blocks and vowed to put up with it. There would be no more easy time off for him again. His boss had accepted his absences as a temporary problem that could affect anybody, was pleased with him again and had started dropping hints about promotion. It had been a period of dishonesty in his life and he should let it go and move on, work hard and try and make up. He had felt uncomfortable with his behaviour anyway.

                    Uncomfortable like his belly button. The pain slowly moved down and became more and more acute. He knew this was not indigestion; he had spent far too long looking up the symptoms of appendicitis not to know exactly what it was. But he held on just hoping he was wrong and it would go away. As the afternoon progressed, the pain quickly turned to agony. This was not chronic appendicitis, but acute, and his life was in danger unless he got help fast. Damn it. His fit note said he had his appendix removed last year and now he was going to be rushed to hospital to have his appendix removed.

                    Almost doubled over and gasping he knew he would have a job explaining this one.
                    Last edited by xoggoth; 17 July 2015, 17:33.
                    bloggoth

                    If everything isn't black and white, I say, 'Why the hell not?'
                    John Wayne (My guru, not to be confused with my beloved prophet Jeremy Clarkson)

                    Comment


                      #30
                      The Reality of the Soul

                      There had always been a great gulf between science and religion, fundamental disagreements over the explanations for everything. People cite proofs of their views but, take away the presumptions and preconceptions, and such proofs rarely hold water. Religious proofs of the existence of the soul are usually dismissed by scientists as confusions with consciousness and emotion, biologically generated reactions which can be influenced by biological means, even something as simple as a glass of vodka. Not that such confusion is any proof that the soul does not exist and many on the side of science are equally biased in their beliefs.

                      One real advantage science has over religion is that it is capable of evolving and moving on, of re-examining the evidence impartially, of making new discoveries. Sometimes it is revealed how wrong the previously accepted science can be. Spontaneous generation, Phlogiston and the Static Universe are just three examples of mistakes that science has made. In 2027 there came another, and it was one that showed that religion had been right all along. There really was a soul.

                      Back in Faraday’s day they had matter that you could weigh and forms of energy, like light or electricity, that you could senses or measure in simple ways. 150 years of research into subatomic particles by particle physicists since then has revealed just how complex the universe really is. The discoveries go far beyond those of Dark Matter and the Higgs Bosun particle that the public had heard of, and show how much of it is unseen and undetectable by any means that does not cost many millions or even billions of pounds.

                      The first indication came from a chance finding by scientists at the Scheiner Institute, who were researching the existence of the aether, a space-filling field thought necessary by some for the propagation of electromagnetic or gravitational forces. Initial experiments with the hugely complex and expensive detectors were not encouraging and nothing could be detected in electrical discharges apart from the electricity itself. Sometimes there were faint signals which appeared to be random and were initially put down to faults. The real cause was revealed when a worker accidentally disconnected the shield while the machine was in operation and the readings showed a small spike. It only happened each time a human came close. A leaked report to the papers was seized on as possible proof of a soul and it became big news, argued over by the hailers and the scoffers.

                      Some famous religious institutions have a lot of wealth and it was not long before they backed further research, funding further development of the detector. Their hopes were rewarded when it repeatedly reacted to living humans but not to other primates or to the recently deceased. Of course many doubted the veracity of the reports but many took it as proof and attendances at Churches, Mosques and Temples began to increase.

                      Professor Fidel Lorenz was in charge of the project. He was an atheist by nature and was not convinced that this newly discovered presence was actually a soul in the religious sense but too much of a dedicated scientist to spurn involvement in this new area of knowledge and he pushed his equally dedicated team to the maximum. Once the machine had been certified as safe they did many checks on organic chemicals, animals and on volunteers - adults, children, the living and the dead and their initial results were almost always confirmed. Something was inside living humans that could be detected nowhere else. The almost was strange. In just a very few individuals, nothing was detected. There had not as yet been any investigations into reasons and the number of tests was still too few to draw conclusions anyway but Dr Lorenz was troubled. Was it coincidence that these “soulless” humans appeared to be the brightest and most open of all their volunteers?

                      Much more research was needed and it was not long before they began to develop a more sophisticated machine that could perform a full scan in 3D to see what the soul looked like. Although it was colossally more complex and expensive, it resembled a normal MRI scanner. A person would lay on a flat bed and be moved slowly through a large tube while hugely sophisticated electronics built up a picture on the screens. It took three years and a billion pounds, much of it supplied by the Vatican, but it was finally ready. The big day had come and their first volunteer lay down on the flat bed. The motor started and the scientists gathered in front of the big screens. What would they see? The soul came into view and the viewers instinctively drew back because of what it resembled, an enormous maggot that took up most of the man’s body. Like a maggot it wriggled in a slow and repulsive way. At the blunter end, there appeared to be a mouth that opened and closed, that appeared to be eating something... It was not clear what.

                      Appearances can be deceptive of course and it was early days. It was a few weeks later that the time came to see what happened to this soul on death. A seriously ill man had chosen to go by voluntary euthanasia and had volunteered to further their research. Even the normally detached scientists were nervous and troubled as they saw him draw his last breath. The maggot began to writhe as if in pain and then began to break free, transforming as it did so into something even more hideous. Although the volume of the scanner was small they saw a little of what it became, the wings, the many twisted legs and hideous projections, and then it was gone. Some of the observers were physically sick.

                      Doctor Lorenz had been studying the report that had arrived on his desk the day before and knew what the others only suspected. The few without this soul had by far the highest IQs, were biologically much younger than their real age would suggest and were the most empathetic of all their volunteers. There has always been much debate about whether the soul existed but nobody had ever asked, if it did exist, what it really was. Far from being something placed there by god for his own purposes it was a malignant parasite, like the wasp larva that lives in and controls the so-called zombie caterpillar. Mankind had an enormous potential, could perhaps be capable of developing an advanced world free of conflicts, but would never achieve it because, shortly after conception, most of us are invaded by a parasitic supernatural being which drains our intellects and feelings for its own sustenance.

                      In the real world many human lives end every minute and in the alternative reality of the aether, the dead volunteer’s soul was swarming with numerous others of its kind, those similarly released, seeking a suitable mate while its brief adult life lasted. Then it would search out new hosts in which to lay its eggs. In the real world life goes on and many lives begin every minute too. There was no shortage of suitable hosts.
                      Last edited by xoggoth; 16 October 2015, 09:34.
                      bloggoth

                      If everything isn't black and white, I say, 'Why the hell not?'
                      John Wayne (My guru, not to be confused with my beloved prophet Jeremy Clarkson)

                      Comment

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