New Super-hero film to be produced in Nottingham


The thing here is just how did Inchy get the snaps of me? The cunning chap from a place well north of Thames!

Originally posted on Inchcock:


A small Nottingham budget film company, 4Ms (Mike’s Majestic Monochrome Machinations Inc.) has acquired pro tem financial backing from Walt Disney Euro, to go ahead with its brand new super-hero film series.

01001eAs I approached the companies new main studio, I was greeted my one of the owners a Clivey-boy, along with a rather gorgeous young lady at his side (He appeared to be involved in fund raising for the film I assumed), and was pointed in the direction I needed to go to find Mike, the majority shareholder in the company.

0101cAs I approached the companies new main studio, I was greeted my one of the owners a Clivey-boy, along with a rather gorgeous young lady at his side (He appeared to be involved in fund raising for the film I assumed), and was pointed in the direction I needed to go to find Mike, the majority…

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Dear Soz


Proper satire from Danny Soz.

Originally posted on SOZ SATIRE:


Dear Soz Satire

Children’s homes owners. Raise half a million pounds overnight by dressing around 30% of your homeless orphans in dog costumes and setting fire to them.

Marvin Gormless


Footnote: This brief but earnest little satire was to express my utter consternation that a fire at a dog’s home in Manchester attracted a veritable flood of donations which reached over £500.00 in a matter of hours, while children’s charities are lucky, in some instances, to raise that sum in a year.

A radio journalist who dared raise the same concerns was branded “worse than a paedophile” by one overwrought cunt of a woman. No really!

As Plato said to Euripedes down the boozer one night: You couldn’t make it up could you son?”

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I’ve been re-running this set again recently from the early blogging days.

Originally posted on mikesteeden:




Judea AD28.  It is a Friday night.  JC is on his best behaviour having just taken a couple of early evening beers with his friends down the Crippled Camel Bar & Gastro Pub.  On his way home he stops in at the Holy Grail Curry House to collect his pre-ordered takeaway.  He arrives home only to find Mary sat down in her favourite chair playing with her IPad thing exactly as he left her earlier. 

Mary: “Crikey you remembered supper and you’re sober.  That makes a bloody change.  Did you have an epiphany or something?”

JC: “An e…what?  Whatever.  Anyway, I just thought that having made a good few shekels today I would give my darling missus an extra treat.  That way I might get a little extra treat myself a littlelater (taps side of nose with forefinger and winks a knowing wink) what with it…

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french maid 2

A nebula of apathy

Dims the moral high ground

There is nothing enlightening to unearth

Atop Mount Virtue

No reward at all

However cathartic

The climb


Looking down from the summit

The ever open canopy

The lush savannah plains

A land the Blameless

Claim to be a defiled Eden

A place of passion

Of lust

Of life


Consumed with envy

He dropped to his knees and

Wept tears of



The girl Lilith was

Born of Mother Earth


Once a self-righteous

Poker faced fool

Named her an

‘Unclean animal’


From the watcher’s chaste vantage point

And remorse riddled recollection

‘Animal’ was appropriate enough

He bore the scars to prove it yet

‘Unclean’ an unfortunate

Cruel satire


Certainly and

To his cost

He could verify her………

‘Unrepressed appetite’

She who would and had

Eaten him up and

Spat him out

Let her cleavage

Do the talking

Laughed in his face?

He was never quite sure

About that


Yet each and every time

He left the stratus behind

Went below stairs for

More of the same

She would smile mischievously

Call him her archangel

Pull back the bedcovers

Momentarily hesitate

Dismiss the idea

Lead him by determined hand

To the work table in the scullery

And let him feast


Such was life for His Lordship

And his scullery maid



“What on earth have you got there Dr Gloom?  Crikey you’re sweating like a pig mate……you’ll likely have a heart attack dragging that sack and what I estimate to be its uncommonly heavy load within around……what’s in it if I may so bold as to ask?”

“None of your fucking business Landlord………..Christ I’ve a thirst about me and I’m even willing to sink a pint of that caramelized tap water you jokingly refer to as beer.”

“That’ll be a pint of the usual then……..there you go Gloomo……enjoy.”

“Enjoy…..enjoy…..more chance of enjoying myself sitting on a fucking spike……I’m only here for a spot of rehydration if the truth be told.  What a terrible, terrible time I’ve had this morning…..truly terrible.”

“Sorry to hear that mate……for pity’s sake put us all out of our misery and say what you have in that sack.”

“You’ll never believe me if I do.”

“Try me.”

“Well if you must know I have about my person the very word of God in the form of the Ten Commandments carved on two tablets of stone in the Lord’s own hand and I can’t say I’m too pleased about it.”

“Now I’ve heard some tales from you Gloom but this one surely has to be one big fib.”

“Take a look then Doubting Thomas……go on, you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

“Bugger me if it’s not true…….how on earth did you come by these?”

“Right then if you really want to know I got up today full of the joys of spring, thought ‘I know what’ I’ll take my new IPad out to the park and see how the camera on it works……you know take a couple of snaps of the ducks and such like as a prerequisite to visiting this hovel you call a pub for my lunchtime pint of dishwater.  Well there was me wondering around near the lake and I spots a marquee all set up which I presumed to be a place where I might get a cup of tea and a custard cream. Outside was a little Jewish bloke knocking out some lovely music on his fiddle and I thought to myself, ‘this’ll do nicely.’ As I got to the entrance the fiddler – still belting it out on the fiddle – says to me, ‘I wouldn’t go in there mate for once you enter you’ll find it is in point of fact a tear in the very fabric of time.’ Obviously I thought he was talking bollocks to keep the gentiles out so I went in anyway. That’s where it all went horribly wrong for there I was – me with the terrible vertigo I suffer from – at the fucking peak of Mount Sinai in whatever BC (basically yonks ago) face to face with some old geezer with a ridiculously long beard.”

“Crikey I’m guessing that must have been Moses himself.”

“How do you know that?  Anyway the old bloke says, ‘Who the bloody hell are you?’ So I says ‘Derek Gloom and if you don’t mind me asking where the fuck am I?’  So he goes on to explain that he is Moses – the Moses mind – of Old Testament fame and that he was well pissed off because God had commanded him up the mountain to collect a couple of tablets with words and stuff inscribed thereon. Moses had thought he was on to a bit of a winner.  He thought he’d be picking up not just any old Android tablets but – what with it being God – he ends up with a couple of IPads; you know one for him the other for the missus as she apparently is always on Facebook – yet lo and behold when he gets to the summit God gives him two massive great stone tablets with a list of things he mustn’t do written on them.  Moses was spitting feathers I can tell you.”

“I bet he was…….it’s all you need after ascending a mountain to be gifted two boulders, I’d be pissed at that myself…..carry on Gloomo.”

“Where was I…..oh yes……..Moses suddenly catches sight of my IPad adorned with the special authentic protective cover purchased at great cost from the Apple Store. Suddenly and quite out of the blue he says, ‘Well that’s a stroke of luck, I’ll have that tablet sunshine.’ With that he gives me a Glasgow kiss then kicks me in the bollocks nearly causing me to tumble down the mountainside and says, ‘You may as well have these – here’s a durable hessian sack to carry them in – now piss off before I change my mind and kill you.’ Not particularly fancying dying whilst lost in time I did what he said.”

“Amazing Gloom I always had Moses marked down as one of the good guys…..well you live and learn.”

“Three days it took me to get down that mountain. Three days of sweat, blood and tears. Anyway when I did get down I was chased across the desert for another couple of weeks by a pack of rabid jackals no less. In a state of some understandable distress I eventually collapsed in a heap and thought I’d let the jackals feast on me for I could take no more. Then bugger me the second I shut my eyes I was back outside the marquee still with this bloody sack of heavy weight stone tablets. The Jewish geezer was still knocking out a number on the fiddle and he said to me, ‘Told you you didn’t want to go in there….was I right or was I right?’ I had to admit he was right. So that’s when I decided to come here for a well-earned drink.”

“Stuff me Gloomo it always happens to you mate……I mean had good fortune smiled your tear in the fabric of time might have taken you to the Himalayas whereupon you could have returned with the original copy of the Karma Sutra having previously…..well while you were there that is……tested all the positions out with a beautiful Indian girl well versed in the ways of the carnal delights who was set on shagging you senseless……..and what do you bring back from your little excursion?  Two lumps of rock you may as well break up for hard core for they are no use to man or beast.  Bad luck again Dr Gloom.  By the way was your IPad insured against theft whilst travelling in time and/or space?”

“What do you think……no it wasn’t?”

“Yeah I forgot you’re as tight as a duck’s arse and squeak when you walk – what savagely bad luck old chap. That’ll be £4 for the beer by the way.”




She talks of family planning with spiders

Gives advice to dogs on the subject of manners

Compliments flowers on their beauty

Discusses pesticides with bumblebees

Speaks of romance with butterflies

Lectures cats on their toilet habits, and

Mostly, she just tells off the wasps

Wasps are the Hells Angels of her garden


When hot, she undresses

When cold she wears layer upon layer

Rarely is she colour co-ordinated

She looks best naked

This one is of the earth

She has shown me many things from nature

That being held a hostage of

Concrete and tarmac had denied me


She takes in waifs and strays

Gives a ray of hope to

The unfortunate with kind words

When the mood takes her she

May prey upon the weaknesses of

Pretentious humanity

In days of yore, in drink

She sometimes destroyed such beings


She is blessed with great

Cutting wit and

Cries giant crystal ball tears when laughing

She laughs a lot

She does not ride that

Savage downhill slalom of

Melancholy that is my want

Although if left alone too long

She climbs the walls of tedium

Her smile can illuminate a cathedral

Her frown may slam shut its gothic doors and

Herald the crepuscular certainty of nightfall


A brave one

She has the small scars of

Childhood recklessness about her limbs

Accident prone

She bruises her body with regularity

Yet never her heart

To her there is no calamity in her clumsiness

The breakage of manmade objects

Matters not a jot

She says such things are replaceable anyway


Those mortals who cause the pain born of malice

She would lock away forever

She calls small children and the very old, ‘My angel’

Infants would follow her to the ends of the earth

Sometimes she has the mouth of a navvy

Other times the eloquence of a bard


She conceived our child in

The Polynesian suite of a French chateau

As is her way, a certain ‘savoir-faire’

When giving birth she sweltered in

The body heat of her own endeavour

Nearly a day in labour, and

Oblivious to the comings and goings of others

She insisted the midwife undress her

Enthrallingly naked, she bore her son

Natural instinct is second nature to

Those of the earth

Those impish daughters of Eve

Fate wed us

Eternity binds us

My Celtic lady is out of step with the rest

Captivatingly mad, yet

With no comprehension that this is so


She has emboldened me

I think I am her rock.


Once posted as an open love letter to the missus; now adapted into the poem it maybe always should have been.



Whereas she would cavort

Would take that much fabled

Leap of trust

Assuming he would always

Be there to catch her

He, the reticent magus was

Inevitably otherwise engaged

Some sorcery or other

Always a new concoction

A cocktail of rat’s tails and herbs

Aimed at killing or curing

Cursing or charming

As the fancy took him


Then came the day

She found their sanctuary deserted

He had followed the sun west for

Reasons unknown

Left behind no parchment


Albeit with a

Bouquet of culpability

She felt compelled to search

His clandestine studio

Usually under lock and key

Old oak door ajar this day


Assumptions are the most

Unreliable of thoughts

It would be to her cost that

She was tempted to prize open

His apothecary cabinet

Uncork the phial and

Pour just a smidgen into

The richly enamelled chalice


Later that day

When he returned home

He discovered her

Snow white body

In crumpled lace

His terracotta framed muse

Lying prone upon the floor


From his pocket

Set in silver for

She loathed the

Decadence of gold

He retrieved the emerald

He had bought for her

Looked at her, then

Looked at the precious stone

Shed a single tear

And drank from that same chalice

Thus casting the spell that would

Unite their state of being and

In his heart of hearts

The hope of

Uniting their souls


When she awoke

His body was stone cold

Not so her essence for

That had dissolved


He had at last

Taken that leap of trust

The very thing she had

Once craved he would




Friday it is – another JC skit from my early days of blogging!

Originally posted on mikesteeden:



Judea AD28: JC has been out on a ‘stag night’ he organised for Judas, one of his mates from down the pub.  A jolly good time has been had by one and all at John the Baptiste’s riverside bar, ‘The Christening of Bacchus.’  Shekels aplenty have been spent and the stripper from Galilee, Angel Arcs (my how she arced) who started out dressed as a Roman Centurion has gone down a treat.  The early hours are upon him, the rain pouring down in shed loads and several buckets of lager later JC curses at the front door desperate to get inside quick as his bladder is fit to burst. Following a few abortive attempts to get his key in the lock JC enters only to find Mary sat down in her favourite chair playing with her IPad thing exactly as he left her earlier!

Mary: “Pissed again I see. …

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ww1 1

It is dusk

I crane my neck

Score her initials in

The condensation

Then wipe the window clean

A shirt cuff has many uses!


To the beat of hunting oscillation

From the passenger car I see

A glum star submerge

An inevitable sinking

Into the quicksand

That is the far horizon


Travelling coast bound

I leave in my wake

My impetuous inamorata

And head toward a place of

Trench coats and rain clouds

Arras and the

Undeterred stray dogs

I am told

Will molest anything

In search of sustenance


Soon the others and I will arrive

Folkestone Harbour Station

Our destination

The last piece of England

We shall set foot on


Soon we shall be in Calais

Soon we shall be at the front

Soon we will be at war


I shall write her daily if I can

I traded her intimacy

Her flesh and soul

For the thuggery of battle

And know not why


From the back of the train

Some of the lads break into chorus

“Mademoiselle from Armentières”

And no doubt live in hope

Of meeting with her or

One of her filles de joie friends

Good luck to them I say



I have a dream that

I will be home by Christmas

That we shall toast good fortune

With Calvados, ripe cheeses and bread


Armed with Belgian chocolate

I shall smother her

Have her for desert……….


……….. “Wake up son

No time for daydreaming

Get your act together

We’re going over the top”



“I say Carruthers the PM can be bloody rude when the fancy takes him.”

“How so old chum?  Personally I’ve never had issue with him on the politeness front.”

“Well apropos nothing he took me aside following the meet at No. 10 earlier and said, ‘God man you need a mint Mentos like I don’t know what.’ Plainly I asked what he meant and his riposte was, ‘Your fucking halitosis is making me want to spew and is lingering in the Cabinet Office to the extent that I fear the Hungarian and the Japanese big wigs will be distressed when they arrive after luncheon for trade negotiations.’ I mean I tried to explain to him that I had never even heard of Ali Toesis let alone had her within my close circle of friends or indeed colleagues here in the Foreign Office yet he was having none of it.”

“Blimey it sounds as if the old boy is losing the plot to me……and I might add becoming something of a racist.  To call one of our German allies ‘Hun’ Gary Anne (does sound like a cross-dresser though) and a Jap ‘Jap’ Annease is poor form in my book. Shades of the aftermath of the World War Two if you ask me. As to Ali Toesis I can vouch for you on that one for I’ve never heard of the gal.”

“I’m guessing she must be as ugly as sin though…….you know……inducing the PM to vomit.”

“True – best we discover who she is and make double sure she doesn’t turn up at the meeting.  I think we should ask our young secretary Tiffany. She knows everybody who works here – even the plebs. If anyone can help it’ll be Tiffs.”

“Sound idea……..I say Tiffany…….yes you…….is there a girl working here who is challenged on the looks front and who goes by the name of Ali Toesis?……Oh yes, and maybe has a passion for Mentos for I was told by the PM that I may need one….plus, nearly forgot that, she may favour a wig…….what’s that you say again Tiffany I didn’t catch it first time……..couldn’t hear you over the pounding of your typewriter and the fit of laughter that has consumed your very person………got it now, thanks Tiffs.”

“What did she say then?”

“Not much help really she simply said – guffawing away like a good’un I might add – that she was well aware that some men toss and that if this Ali Toesis is fond of ‘tossing’ she is very likely a he. Moreover if she is a he then by the sounds of it he might be an Arab.”

“Well that’s thrown a spanner in the works. First the PM is rude about the Japs and the Huns now we learn that a certain Arab is not to his liking also. What a to-do.”

“Well at least this Ali Toesis doesn’t work here then….what with him being an Arab and all that…..God forbid the day when we employ one of those bomb throwing types.”

“All seems well in the world then…….fancy a quick snifter and a bite to eat at that little watering hole come restaurant that just opened up round the corner?”

“The one that does Algerian cuisine?”

“One and the same…..bloody good chef that Al Geria.”

“Damn right he is…….last one there gets the drinks in!”