Fire in my head, fire on my bed.
Fire in my television, fire without reason.
Fire in my heart, fire on my cart.
Fire in my chair, fire on my hair.
Fire in my shoe, fire on my loo.
Fire in my kitchen, time to cook chicken!
Fire in my fridge, fire on my poridge.
Fire in my pool, now that isn’t cool.
Fire in my house, fire on my mouse.
Fire in my home care, fire everywhere.
I like fire, it lifts my spirit higher.

Our housemate Gary burst through the door shouting, “119! 119!” We stood motionless in the kitchen, shocked at the urgency of Gary, but not understanding the situation.

The street was filled with shouting, menacing people dressed in black charging towards us with sticks, rocks and knifes.

I woke from my inactivity and dialed 911.

I found Gary in the loungeroom as the Emergency Call Operator answered. “What’s your emergency?”

I handed the phone to Gary, “Police,” he said calmly, “16 Damino Avenue. Let’s read.” He put the phone on the coffee table and started reading aloud, “Joyful are people of integrity, who follow the instructions of the Lord…”

Throughout the week I notice things to write about, but often I forget by Tuesday.

Meaning that I generally have no idea where my idea will come from.

Does my help come from the mountains? Maybe it does, I might find a story about a guy who climbs a mountain, and when he reaches the top, the volcano explodes.

Can I watch over my idea? Maybe I can, I might write a story about a serial killer who always kills with a pocket watch. Passing time is the culprit.

Can someone avoid sleep? Yes and no. If only life were that simple. An afternoon nap would forever be a matter of death and life.

Question my technique again and I’ll question you!?.

I don’t know what to do Doctor. I need your help.

On Friday I went shopping, and I saw a singed copy of a book I like, so I bought it.

It was wrapped up tight, but I finally got it open. What I thought was odd was hearing a few vocal warm-ups as I opened it. I assumed it was the neighbours.

I set the book on the bench and opened it to page 1. And the book came alive! Literally! It started to sing! Not speak like an audio book. Sing!

At first I thought it was cool, but then when I wanted to go to bed I couldn’t turn it off. So I hoped by morning the book would be finished. But the singing just went back to the start.

Any ideas Doc? I’ve tried throwing the book away, lighting it on fire, throwing it in a pool, but still that infernal racket will not stop!

“I’m here interviewing World Champion Breadwinner, Dusty Road. Now Dusty, what got you interested in becoming a breadwinner?”

“My wife. We had just got married and she said to me “I want you to be our breadwinner.” So I did, and that was about twenty years ago.”

“And how much of a focus is breadwinning?”

“Breadwinning is my only focus. I spend a lot of time training to win physical breadwinning competitions and I read a book to help with the mental competitions.”

“But you don’t work on the luck competitions?”

“No, I’m often the only one that enters a competition where the prize is a loaf of bread. So I usually win by default.”

“And what do you do with all the bread you win?”

“Throw it away. I can’t eat bread and neither can my wife, so I just throw the prize away.”

“Do you get other prizes?”

“No. Just the bread.”

I stood face to face with this unknown man holding a bomb. I stood five metres away, trying to look calm and collected as the morning rush of people brushed passed seemingly unaware.

“Why are you holding a bomb?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

“I’m not,” he said with a sly grin.

“Then why does it say, ‘BOMB’?” pointing to the device he held that said, ‘BOMB”.

“It doesn’t,” another sly grin appeared.

I walked up to him, took the device from him and inspected it. “That’s not a bomb, this is a bomb!” I said as I pulled out an actual bomb.

The man panicked, “Woah, where did that come from! I’m just seeing if people notice me. I’d never actually use a bomb.”

“Oh, okay. I just thought you might want to use my bomb instead. You’ve just got a balloon, where as my bomb creates an explosion fifty metres wide.”

“Sorry, just a balloon?” Then he poped his balloon and it exploded. So did our city.

Todd walked the big city streets in awe. He had never seen so many budings! And they all seemed to reach to the sky!

Todd liked looking up at the buildings, because every time he looked down he only noticed one thing… Everyone had matching shoes. And not just matching, but a left-footed shoe.

Todd looked down at his feet, he wore his older brother’s brown right-footed shoe on his left-foot, and his own black right-footed shoe on his right-foot.

Todd wondered if the people here knew about Old Man Wajistakum. He lived in Todd’s hometown and hated left-footed shoes. If he saw a left-footed shoe he’d start attacking it with an axe. Many people lost a foot that way. In the end people just stopped wearing left-footed shoes.

Now that Todd saw what left-footed shoes looked like, he thought Old Man Wajistakum was right. Left-footed shoes are weird! Todd was glad he bought an axe…

Please take a seat, today you have a choice of three seats while you enjoy your refreshment.

The first is our pins and needles couch. Basically if you like blood oozing out of your butt, this couch is for you! The upholstery is so realistic that you’re not sure if its a couch, or bed of nails! It’s a normal couch otherwise.

The second devilish choice is the bean bag of razor sharp rocks! If you like skewered human you’ll love this! The graphic is a picture of the razor sharp rocks down at the beach that have sliced open many surfers. Otherwise it’s a normal bean bag.

And finally you can sit on the heavenly pineapple chair! We made this because we had too many pineapples, so we stacked them together, green bits up, added a pineapple back rest, and made a chair. It’s fantastic!

So, where are you going to sit?

 

Yes! Of course I can light you on fire. I thought someone might ask me that today, so I bought a petrol can with me.

But before I douse you with petrol, do you want to tell me why you want me to light you on fire? Personally, I admire you, burning to death is a blazing way to go.

But I sense there might be a better option. I reccomend ten hours of sleep every night, two litres of water, three pieces of fruit and seven vegetables everyday.

Try that for ten days and if you still want me to light you on fire after that then I will.

I just lost an hour of my time and I don’t know where it went.

I was reading a book and I looked at my phone to check the time. It was pretty late and I decided to go to bed after I finished the chapter.

Then I turned the page and saw the end of the chapter. So I read to that, put the book down and picked up my phone.

AN HOUR AND THREE MINUTES HAD PASSED!!! I only read a page and a half. How did it happen??? I’m sorry everyone, but I really don’t know…

Should I try to get it back before daylight comes!?.