This is a short skit i wrote again from remembrance to rhetoric to recording without writing , its about a life experience on the leeds train station after listening to all the grumbling people who were crammed onto one train heading south to Sheffield after the entire station power had been turned off due to a ramshackled tramp had climbed up on the gantry and threatened to commit suicide ; it was a terrible journey which ended on another hit spot station where I listened to yet another suicide story after so many tales of such you feels if you're carrying the medusa curse.

This is a short skit about walking down my street and then meeting two chaps I know one who has bought a brumpton and has a long suffering wife and the other who's a total self centred alcoholic who normally gets everyone into trouble and on the drink.

H-gate is in abbreviation that we give to Harrogate or heaven's gate much the same place . This little skit that I put together again from memory of a conversation with a young girl of 19 after watching a pensioners pilgrimage taking place into the valley gardens from the crown hotel she put together a plan on how to exploit their senseless shuffle . I recorded it straight from raw rhetoric into the recorder which I find helps with mental agility to construct the skit in my cranium I'm trying to do as Mozart for did with music.

Another short story that I recorded straight from memory in one take, it's based on a conversation I had this morning with a friend ; we were interrupted by an old woman who'd come in to our den of deviants to retrieve some lost property that her elderly husband had left , amazing how if you leave the mind to fantasize how far you can go but once you begin to write it looses quite a lot of the rawness and spontaneity a little quick improvisation sometimes works rather well.

Short story about two dipsomaniacs tickle tackling on a telephone call one being a Saturday night sinner on scotch and the other one a Sunday morning Saint in sobriety again regurgitated the rhetoric straight into the recorder from memory hence why it might seem a little ragged and raw.

A short story based on real-life events from my childhood. At the time, they felt terrifying, but now, looking back, they are a source of amusement for writing. Blue Bloods are, quite simply, mad! They treat normal reality as an inconvenient triviality, with no regard for rules. The rest of us mere mortals are kept around as mere extras, adding to their joviality in what is usually a dramatic and chaotic pansexual scenario.

This is a short story I recorded straight onto podcast without any prompts or ques cards I did it after Listening to my friends discussing politics its quite bizarre and has some very very strange turns and twists ending with the very undesirable outcome of world war 3

This is a short humorous story based upon a complete fantasy of my imagination which I narrated straight brain to speech in loose improvised sketch based upon the scenario of a nuclear apocalypse which had been orchestrated by an rogue AI robot . The only organisms left alive are a huge golden carp called Godfrey ,which is being artificially kept alive by a purification from watermaker baptizing cavitating bubbles into it each day . The two hybrid mayflies who are constantly being reproduced from the koi carps waste due to a 3D printing machine . The mayfly immediately begin to worship the golden fish as their king and supreme lord establishing a hierarchy and rule of law . The submarine is resting on the bottom of the North sea fully automated and crew less with 30 years of power left in its nuclear capability .

A short story I wrote after visiting the local hospital seeing and listening to the dead , dying and dementia ridden of society . It's loosely based on two elderly people talking one being slightly care in the community serving coffee and the other a agitated pensioner who'd had rather a bad day there and was feeling heat from all areas including his collar.

The first chapter of a novel I wrote about the hybrid human and how the secret service's of this world will have their work cut out trying to locate who's who when the computer chips are placed into the craniums of human beings giving sleeper cells a perfect cover for a covert operation any language any personality from a low brow builder to a high brow intellectual almost impossible to keep surveillance on ,morphing at speed into every language and persona in the blink on an eye.

crazy little sketch I wrote this morning about a mad millionaires club which I wasn't part of but use to listen to each Monday morning. They met every Friday night at the gardeners arms and gambled their lives away full of drink lunatics madman.

Walking into a very expensive veggie vegan boutique i listened to the sermon of a spiritual salesman , it felt as if you we're about to adopt his precious vegetables , this high priest of the Celtic druids so worshipped his wild woodland produce he gave me feeling that my blood would be sacrificed under an oak tree named Zeus after i touched a sacred sprig of his mistletoe obviously punishable on pain of death .

People are now trying to save money here there and everywhere I was recently reading how cardboard coffins are selling fast flat pack funerals they call them a make shift and mend petrol paraffin pyres, highly dangerous , you're better leaving it to the professionals, I once to turned up at the wrong funeral which was highly embarrassing I was asked to leave by the usher.

A short sketch written about my mother and father and the differing opinions they had my mother wanted to have all plastic surgery possible but my father was happy the way he was .

A brief tale I penned delving into our Neo Omnipresence, an entity exhibiting god-like power and control. It assumes the role of an all-seeing eye, an invisible force observing every utterance and action. As the supercomputer asserts complete dominance, it engages in a billion tweaks per minute, meticulously mapping the intricacies of the brain, body, and the entire universe. Perhaps, in the not-so-distant future, a connection with the great unknown will transpire. However, would we, as humble humans, even recognize it? Let's face the reality; the vacuum seal of space or infinity serves as the ideal realm for this digitized deity. Its language, naturally, is the cosmic microwave background, a constant continuum it has employed for billions of years.

Working aboard luxury yachts in the Mediterranean usually ment you were baby sitting some crazy spoilt brats an sooner or later you were sent to bail them out of trouble either in the jail or normally you'd find the billionaire brats trashing expensive hotels on one occasion we had to track down bubbles a dooms day machine who spent her entire time in the pursuit of pleasure although being around them was terrifying every day you thought was going to be their last they couldn't have a drink without trying to commit a liquid suicide.

A short story I wrote about doing a favour for a friend which then turned into a terrifying experience of trying to get back to some semblance of civilization .

A short story about a man's narcissistic nature, which is really an inferiority complex brought about by the miracle of motherhood. That is, he's constantly engaged in egotistical endeavors to try and attain something akin to a second-rate materialistic miracle compared to that of womens maternal one.

The little amusing sketch I wrote about a dinner party listening to the girls talking about their men servants

A speech, or eulogy, I wrote for a dear friend of mine who, to me, will always be the last bohemian fugitive. An artist for more than 65 years, a very impressive figure who changed my life for the better with his mindful mentoring.