I’m sitting on the suburban train into the city, scanning the headlines on the free-sheet when the guy sitting opposite morphs into a chicken. That’s odd, I think to myself, I would have seen him more as a lizard, or perhaps a snake. Something about his skin, and those eyes…
I look to my left to see if the student with the noisy headphones has noticed. She turns to look at me and quacks a couple of times, before preening her feathers, now shimmering in the early morning sun filtering through the graffiti-covered window. Very odd indeed.
The thought crosses my mind that perhaps my local 7-11 store, in an effort to maintain a competitive edge, have taken to adding magic-mushroom croissants or LSD-laced lattes to their breakfast options. Although I don’t recall seeing or ordering either.
After something of a hiatus, during which blogging time (and the muse) have been sadly lacking, I thought I’d try and get back to a weekly schedule of posting. Maybe.
In the few weeks that I’ve been absent from the blogosphere, I’ve managed to part company with a small lump – aka mystery spot – via a minor procedure. The test results identified it as a basal cell carcinoma, one that is thankfully no longer around to cause any mischief.
I now sport a fine scar, although sadly on my back, so I can’t show it off like those famous German duelling fanatics.
I’m also on the brink of a new business partnership, but more on that another time. And of course I’ve managed to miss out on all the great posts by my favourite bloggers too. Sorry guys.
I would try to catch up by speed reading everything I missed, but the last time I attempted that I simply gave myself a headache, blurry vision and an inability to say the letter Q.
A journey into the city recently turned into one of those Mondays of minor irritations and muse-inspiring moments that just sticks in the mind.
It didn’t start well, since my watch strap, the subject of a few recent repair attempts, finally gave up the ghost and snapped. This turned into something of a metaphor as shortly afterwards I literally ran out of time and missed my bus to the station by seconds. Oaths and dark curses were muttered as I waited in the cold for its successor.
After transferring from train to the Metro, a guy got on with luggage but neglected to hold on as the train lurched forwards. He fell against me and trod heavily on my foot. It’s fortunate that I’d neglected to pack my razor-sharp ninja sword that morning, else he’d have been completing his journey minus his head.
It is 2021 and the Earth is a smouldering ruin. What little remains of human civilization exists in small pockets, stretched across the scarred and barren wastelands of our once mighty cities. Starving, diseased and horribly disfigured, they fight giant rats and rabid wild dogs over the last of the McDonalds‘ still-fresh-looking burger patties.
The apocalypse, so often predicted, had finally come to pass on a date nobody had expected: a rather ordinary Tuesday in February. And it was all down to the chaotic results of the flapping of a butterfly’s wing in an Amazonian rain forest.
Of course that’s not true at all. It was in fact largely brought about by the actions of one man. A despicable orange goblin, with tiny hands and a massive ego. A misogynist, racist, science-denying, sociopathic TV celebrity, with the demeanour and appearance of a sleazy used-car salesman. Donny Trumpet, billionaire sex pest and reality-avoider, had concocted the ultimate con, with the help of his old chum, Vlad ‘The Impaler’ Putanski. And, it was said, it had been partly inspired by a much beloved Christmas movie starring Eddie Murphy.
I’ve always been fascinated and entertained by clever, funny or weird band names. Clearly it’s a challenge for any musician or group to find the perfect moniker, that name that sets them apart and captures a sense of what they are about. Or maybe just got chosen in a moment of drunken / stoned madness and stuck.
I grew up listening to the likes of Pink Floyd and Bowie and one of my first LP purchases was Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, so perhaps it’s no surprise I developed an ear for good music and interesting names.
The first in a new occasional series of natural health tips to get you in top form for the many challenges that lie ahead in 2017.
Seemed appropriate to start with bananas..
There will be lots more exciting and practical health tips to come in the next few months. If you have a super health tip that you’d like to share, please comment below.
© Copyright Jason Lennick 2016. All rights reserved.
I’ve noticed quite a few of my fellow bloggers have been doing some nice round-ups of fave movies, TV shows or other popular entertainments. Never wanting to miss a popular bandwagon to leap on, here is my own humble halfbananas listicle of my top five banana-related entertainments. Enjoy.
1. Bananas – Woody Allen’s hilarious tale of love, dictators and fruit
2. Pulp Fiction – Tarantino’s fruity masterpiece
3. Bananas is My Business – Carmen Miranda documentary
4. Herbie Goes Bananas -1980 thrillfest featuring the magical VW
5. Banana Joe – 1982 film about a man who grows bananas