Juvenilia

Inspired by Adam and Joe's recent feature here is a book I created at the age of eleven, a book that maybe you'll enjoy, or not, it's short so won't take up too much of your time. I present to you HappyHead - The Happy Menace. I could try and set this up and explain the character of HappyHead, but I'm pretty sure he's just a floating head. On with the story, a fantastic spoof of Star Wars: Episode 1: The Phantom Menace!The Bonkers Mail like it, so maybe you will, it's a credible source (could I be making satire about the real Daily Mail? Probably not, but I'd like to think so). I'm not enjoying my use of the evil typeface comic sans on this, poor show son.Ever had a book dedicated to you? No? Well you have now! I probably should explain I produced other HappyHead books, but I probably binned them, shame.Recognise the 'plot'. I'm disappointed I made no mentions to taxation, trading and negotiations which also featured in the well loved Star Wars film.I think the floating head is probably capable of jumping.For someone called 'HappyHead' he isn't half a miserable shit, smile!Oh he's smiling now he sees some Battle Droids.Silly HappyHead. Ouch this is a bit dark, could I not think of a better way to end it? Well it is a spoof! (apparently)So I felt bad about killing off the little fun bundle, so I enclosed a card for the reader. I also decided to graffiti my charming book a few years later, what a nob I was at seventeen, fortunately at twenty I now appreciate good literature.

And what of the other books? I only really remember the sick teacher book where HappyHead helped his sick teacher, a real heart warming tale. Maybe I'll find it, or maybe it's in a land site.

But what does the card say inside?I hope you enjoyed this tale. Incidentally, if you want some surprisingly decent star wars juvenillia, you could do a lot worse than this.

New Novella time

I'm taking a break from writing my hit novella ginger pubes to concentrate on my new Novella entitled 'Graham Cook rewalks Britain'. Here's the first chapter.

Chapter One. Insanity.

Since getting a car Graham Cook just didn't walk anymore, which was a shame as during his time as a walker, he walked through some terrific locales, walking pass some terrific flea riden piss soaked people on the streets. But the posession (not ownership, he possesed the motormobile) of a car had stopped the walking, driving to the postbox down the road deprived him the joy of making trainer contact with cobbles (Or stilettos when on weekends). Cobble deprivation you may call it. A desease yet to be full recognised by the labour government. Going slightly insane, with his legs very much taking control of his brain, Graham Cook torched his car, well let someone else do it, well wanted to let someone else do it. This was going to tbe easier said than done. Graham left his car abondoned on the motorway hoping that would encourage someone to torch it. No such luck. He tried painting on the car 'Torch me' but he ended up just getting DVD copies of Torchwood left on the car left by overly critical Doctor Who fans who just didn't quite appreciate watching wanking and aliens in the same show. To hell with it thought Graham, and having listened to the Prodigy's hit ballad Firestarter, he was pent up with enough enthusiasm and loaded with tips on how to be a fire starter that he could do the job himself and start a fire. And also he could burn the Torchwood DVDs whilst he was at it, bit too welsh for this in the closet welsh man's tastes. With the DVDs burnt and also the car, as well as putting a message to Russel T Davis and increasing his carbon footprint, his legs could now get their full useage, he could walk to places. And what better places to walk than places you used to walk before you had a car. Watch out pedistrians and foul members of the public who hurl abuse at walkers by, Graham Cook would be rewalking back past you. Graham Cook would be rewalking Britain.

Stop! Novella time!

I may have taken a break from writing my hit novella Ginger Pubes but I was just waiting for my own real life ginger pubes life experiences to occur and creep their way into my hit novella Ginger Pubes.

Chapter Three: Escape.

He chose EasyJet because of their overtly ginger branding, with his hair in contrast to the lovely orange infected on all things easy it would look almost brown. It was a smart move to make for his planned holiday (Or escapology as he called based on the title of a Robbie Williams album until he realised it wasn't the album with Angels, but the album with Feel which he hated, and then found out escapology wasn't really a befiting title for a holiday when he found out it was the practice of escaping from restraints, unless you call Gingerphobia restraints). To Spain he wanted to go, seeingly unaware of the large British expat community Spain side. He arrived, miles outside Spain, oh the perks of the tour operator. Someone attractive aproached him in the arrivals hall, they looked like someone from Las Ketchup, except the difference was this person seemed to act like they knew him in stark contrast to when he tried to bluff his way into a Las Ketchup concert hoping they'd pretend to know him. "Ronnie" she called him. Well that wasn't his name, not even close, it starts with a Z for starts. "Ronnie Weasley" He sighed, this escapology might not be the most befiting for a ginger pubes tormented man. Besides don't call it Escapology, it doesn't have that song Angels. He wants that played at his wedding.Escapology is available from Amazon for the bargain (don't turn to piracy) price of £10.99

Chapter two of the much anticipated Novella

Remember when on Friday the 11th of May I premiered chapter one of my muchly highly anticipated Novella to the masses, well Monday the 28th of May (Wank Holiday Monday) will go down in history as the day I premiered chapter two.

Chapter Two: Denial.

They couldn't be ginger, they couldn't be the type of colour pubes that would sear on the retinas of any ladies (or men, he hadn't ruled out a situation where upon he might expose his pubes to another chap, maybe in a locker room) that he may partake in sexual aliteration with. He had decided the only way in which to test if his testes were that orange was to go upto members of the public. Fortunatly he had a master stroke up his sleeve, he would wear an orange boiler suit so if the situation arose that they might be found to be ginger, he would confidently hopefully find that the common consencous would be that at least they weren't orange. Although he was confused if there was that much distinction between orange and ginger that the common British public might recognise.

The weights on my shoulders are on hold from 8 to 11pm tomorrow...

Because...Scooch are going to win euorvision, I'm so confident that they'll win, I'll post a photo of my genitalls on my blog if they don't, ginger pubes and all*.Talking of ginger pubes, here is the beginning paragraph to my novella titled ginger pubes.

Chapeter One. Realisation.

He undid his flies, his pubic hair creating almost a lightbulb on the urinal. He was suprised just how ginger his pubes were, usually he peed in toilets with blue lighting to stop him injecting himself silly with heroin. They never looked that ginger in that light, but now he was in a McDonalds toilet, he could appreciate his ginger pubes for the magnificent shade they were, and inject himself with heroin as well, which was a bonus.

*Not legally binding, I'm not a complete loon!