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I seem to be following myself…

March 25, 2012


I have much to learn about how to use WordPress.  I am now following myself which meant I got two emails. One said that I’m now following Uniquelyrussell and another telling me that I was now being followed by Uniquelyrussell.  I’m now in a recursive loop of following myself.  I’m taking this as a kind of Zen statement which may lead to enlightenment or aneurysm.   I’m also not sure what the page order is.  Stuff seems unrelated to each other and appears in a random fashion.  I’ll need to sort it out before April so perhaps I’ll actually have to read the help pages and tutorials!


I took a risk at my open mic slot and read a short story.  I’ve changed it a bit in order to include it here:


‘Those apes are dirty thieving bastards, they’ve got diseases so don’t go near them and don’t feed them, whatever you do.’

This advice is given to us all, unasked in a loud voice in a coach on a day trip to the Rock of Gibraltar by a bloke wearing a tracksuit who speaks in a strong London accent.

I tune out the rest of his advice.  I presume it involves not drinking the water, or eating the food or trusting the locals; but I don’t dismiss his words entirely.

The rest of the group do.  When we arrive at the top of the rock they go about feeding the apes and laugh excitedly at them.

I watch.  I watch when the apes become more daring.  Suddenly they’re pulling food from hands and delving in pockets and bags.  The group’s excited exclamations become nervous.  When they back away and reject the apes snatching hands, the apes bare their teeth, begin to bark and screech and become increasingly aggressive.  I watch as the larger animals start to jump on shoulders and pull at straps, stripping the bags and separating owners from their possessions.

My stomach knots.  Somehow the group has been corralled by the excited apes who tug and pull and leap and screech.  It’s obvious they’ve done this many times before.

A small girl is separated from the group.  Singled out, the apes surround her while her dad ineffectually flicks at them with his copy of Rough Guide to Spain.

London tracksuit calmly walks over to the girl then stares at the ringleader, a big male that’s about the size of a Staffordshire Bull Terrier.  Without hesitation, like a classic volley from Bobby Charlton, he kicks it.  He fucking kicks it!  He kicked that dirty thieving bastard so hard it screeched at the impact and shot off down the side of the rock.

Heroic, violent and utter appropriate.

The other apes ran off.  A spell had been broken.  The dad, suddenly released, ran to sooth his daughter.  When the dumbstruck group realise what’s happened there’s spontaneous applause.

London tracksuit turned to me ‘Told you, dirty thieving bastards’.


I hope you enjoy it.  But, the problem with stuff like this is that it’s difficult to leave alone.  Each time I read it there is some adjustment that I’d like to make.


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