The Man with No Ideas

The Man with No Ideas lay on his sofa and thought.

"What do I do?" he wondered.

It is a sad fact that the Man with No Ideas spent most of his time doing this. In thirty years he had never come up with a single idea of his own. Whenever he spent time with his friends he always went along with what they suggested, drank what they drank, ate what they ate. All his clothes were made up of outfits he'd seen on mannequins in shop windows and the inside of his house was a complete replica of a home decoration magazine cover he'd seen once.

'All I want" he thought "is one idea of my own."

Suddenly, he felt a tingling at the bottom of his spine that travelled up to his neck and onto his head - making all his hairs stand on end. Then his nose started to tingle uncontrollably but he didn't need to sneeze. Finally he felt a strange sensation in his stomach, as if a hundred butterflies had all lifted off at once. Just when he thought he couldn't stand it anymore, he leapt up off the sofa, flung his hands in the air and cried out:

"I know!"

Diary Entry 1 - Death

A good friend has become increasingly morbid of late. Faced with the realisation of her inevitable demise she seeks reassurance from those around her; unfortunately, as we work together, that often includes me.

"You know we're all going to die, right?" It's an odd way to start a conversation but at least it's honest.

"Yes." I reply, looking up from a particularly dull Excel spreadsheet. "I tend not too think about it too much."

"How? How can you just ignore it?" There's a look in her eyes - an interesting mixture - equal parts mania and melancholy. I sigh heavily.

"In much the same way that I'm now going to ignore you." I reply, returning to little slice of hell on Earth Bill Gates has so lovingly crafted for me.

Mark vs Blackbird

The following is not a metaphor. I'm not trying to make some grand statement about the conflict between humanity and nature. It doesn't provide a profound insight into my innermost thoughts and feelings. This is a literal tale of the living hell my life has become.

There is a Blackbird.

Lumpy Legs and Short-haired Doctors

I’ve always been a mild hypochondriac.

Not to the point where I’ll actively search for possible ailments to suffer from but if something crops ups which has the possibility to be serious I’ll automatically jump to the worst case scenario. Case in point; a small lump on the back of my right leg which I’ve had for about four months. I decided to show someone at work who (reasonably) quickly said “Maybe you should go to the doctors.”

The Tower of Barkel

With our infinite arrogance and pride, humankind has always been a boon companion of folly. Recall, if you will, the story of The Tower of Babel. A monument reaching towards the very heavens; designed to rival the work of the Creator itself. In its righteous and divine fury God cast down the tower, scattered humanity to the four winds and deigned that forever more we speak in tongues foreign to each other. What the story neglects to mention however is that it was not only humans that dared defy God's will. It is this tale that I tell you now.

Making rules for life

I've been absolutely obsessed with my looks recently, which, given that my concept of time is extremely poor, means approximately the last 28 years.

Its ranged from the reasonable (maybe I should shave my beard?) to the slightly more radical (perhaps it's time to seriously invest in cravats and a monocle). Now I've even started to draw other people into it. It started off simple, asking friends questions like "Do you think I could pull off pink brogues?" Now it's mutated it forcing random acquaintances to reveal their height and age so I can compare myself more accurately to them.

Ratatouille

Ingredients:

-All the vegetables

-Pot

-Cooker

Method:

I am afraid. If I look over my shoulder I can still see the pot containing the ratatouille on the oven. We stare at each other for a moment, our shared journey bonding us closer than brothers. I let out a gasp and flee the room.

The Day I Caught the Bus

I'm getting the bus back home after a reasonably late night. As I ascend to the top deck there she sits. Blonde (oh!), glasses (ah!) and reading a book (oh my!). Obviously there is a connection here, although at this point she seems unaware of it. I proceed to adopt my best ‘romantic-bus-loner' character (lots of meaningful looks into middle distance and general brooding) and the courting begins, she still seems to be somewhat oblivious.

Awakening the Tiger

So, I’ve been going to the gym steadily now for about three weeks. I’ll be honest, I was pretty nervous at the start (people will see me!) but a couple of nights ago I had a revelation. Suddenly, I understand it all, why people obsess about exercise – I awoke my inner tiger.