Annie breaks into Stan’s sacred space

Some old Greek writing
Some old Greek writing (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Stan was polishing the windows again with his  big microfibre cloth.The computer was on.As soon as he finished the sitting room windows he planned to look at a google document he was co-writing with hislfriend Annie, on the failings of the British Empire..She only lived next door but they both liked sharing new techniques of various kinds.
He sat down in front of his computer and looked at his email.
There was one from Annie.

“Hi Stan
I didn’t really want to keep some of those remarks you  wrote at the bottom of our document when we were both online,so I have deleted them.  We should have gone into chat mode.They were not related to the topic we were discussing so I know you won’t be mind.And if you ask again we can chat either online or in person about sex and people’s lives
With  my  love,dearest one ,Annie


Stan felt  furiously angry and cross.  How could she know if he minded or not?
He went dark red as if his head was bursting.What was so dreadful about his remarks?He had only asked Annie if her dead husband George might have been bisexual.Stan had once seen him kissing another man  in the bushes in the park.Annie didn’t seem bothered last night.She never gave the impression to  me she didn’t like it.Maybe she’s not quick enough to react
Anyway she should not have deleted it completely without asking me first.
He sat down on his old Habitat chair [recently mended free on the NHS by Dave the paramedic,] and he  sent her an email saying he was furious with her for attacking his freedom of speech.It was unethical.It .He must assert himself.He would show her!
So he was not going to work with her on any more documents ever again nor chat on IM or Google Chat. Of course he still loved her but his anger was too strong for him to ignore.

Cat alone
When Annie got the email she was completely stunned like a cow   ready to be e.She apologized to Stan immediately but he refused to accept it  ever  even though she begged piteously for forgiveness.
Why did he want to know if George was bisexual, she wondered.Was he saying it to try to turn himself on or me? Or is he just interested in  all  different kinds of sex   and human behavior generally ,like most people are ?But it was not concerned with the document which was about ill treatment of prisoners in India under the British Empire and relating it to other acts  of outrage by the British   Government elsewhere.
I wanted to talk about us,not poor dead George.Whatever George’s sex life,he’s dead now.So l we should leave him in peace.
Meantime.Stan was thinking about how women were always interfering in his life,correcting him and improving his grammar.Making him cups of tea when he wanted brandy and some HP sauce  with his lamb chops not salad
He liked talking about bisexuality.It made him feel a sense of wonder at the differing habits and desires of humans.Why couldn’t she just go along with it or at least say something then rather than deleting his words secretly when he was off-line?Though maybe mentioning George was insensitive even though George was dead.
He was a man .He was not going to let a woman ride over him like a steam roller. Annie must learn her place in the scheme of things.

Where is that,asked his beautiful tom cat Emile.
I’m not sure but it’s not above me.It’s either the same or lower.
Can’t you forgive her.She may be in another dimension,another space altogether,another universe of discourse?[He’d been reading  his Wittgenstein again]
Certainly not .No way.Stan answered,
But you love her,you said many times in here.I heard you
All the more reason to maintain some boundaries. Love is not the be all and end all of life for a man!
Next she’ll be cutting bits off me with her dressmaking shears,he cried in outrage and horror!
She’ll castrate me.She’ll turn me into a woman.

6819924_f1126074c2_m altered
She won’t,she’s just a daft  postmenopausal woman,said Emile.She wouldn’t ever harm you.she’s very know that,don’t you?
She has invaded me,she has crossed my boundary.
Some people would be glad,mewed the cat.He was always hoping a lady cat would come by. and cross his boundaries or more correctly.he would  be allowed cross hers.
Meanwhile Annie was sitting sobbing  feverishly in her bedroom.She really enjoyed co-writing documents and news sheets with Stan.Now he won’t do it any more, she whispered . He was really mad with her.He must be feeling upset and aggravated beyond  all human endurance.She had assumed too much and now she was paying the price as she lay  on her purple duvet cover with two boxes of Kleenex for men.Even  finding  the Kleenex required for all her sobbing was too much for her.

Cracks in the pavement
She cried and sobbed loudly for a while.Her eyes were bright red and bloodshot. She was so  very sad she had unwittingly distressed dear  Stan.Life is so tough she thought reluctantly.I wish I were somewhere else……maybe in Heaven with George and his bisexual lovers  beside all playing harps or mouth organs  and whatever else the could find up there.
Still,there were those new neighbours who had just moved in across the road.Two brothers,both very handsome.I wonder if they like writing on the computer,she thought.That cheered her up a bit,though she was very fond of Stan.In fact she loved him greatly and had kissed him  many times though she had never actually gone to bed with him ;never known him in the biblical sense.Was that the problem?Too late now either way,she muttered quietly to her goldfish Wayne who agreed with her analysis of the situation .
So in her mind she was moving from loving and adoring Stan to being  loving  towards yet puzzled by him.Was he afraid of being dominated by a woman?What would he be like as a lover?

But why try to talk about bisexuality?Could he not have thought of something else?Like female  orgasms or kissing better?
There was a new book by Betty Dodson teaching  frozen women how to have orgasms.Would he have enjoyed discussing female anatomy and pleasuring her naked female body and all the rest.
Well,she would never know now.That was certain.Thank God I’ve found out what he’s like before things went any further.He might be a little too dominating.Though a certain amount is necessary for the  consummation of love.She was so upset her thoughts began to turn towards women.
Would it be better all round to love a woman instead?Especially as I could show her how to have an orgasm having being studying this book for some weeks?Though she may already know,I guess.Still,a change is as good as a rest, so  the proverb says.
How do I find a woman who’s into other woman, as it were, she thought.Can I find one on the internet?Will there be a club we can go to? How exciting!
So Annie grew more optimistic.A woman wouldn’t mind a few words deleted from a chat either.So a feeling of mild joy came over her and her sobbing died down.

Stan was sitting in his kitchen feeling superior and dominant.Except Annie had not come for coffee so it was hard being dominant all by himself.He began to feel depressed and morose.Should he change his mind?Would he lose his window of opportunity?
Why is life so trying.Why are women so manipulative, why do they all turn out fakes and bitches,he asked Emile.Why won’t they love me as I am?
It’s partly one’s own character,Emile replied.
Hearing this Stan lost his temper and threw  the kettle of boiling water at Emile.Luckily it missed but Emile stalked out and went off to the shed leaving Stan more alone than ever.
How hard life is Stan shouted. I feel like topping myself. I”ll jump off the roof. of the civic center.I’m going to ring the f*****g Samaritans.
Just then his wife Mary walked in.What’s up Stan?
Nothing dear.I just dropped a brick on my toe
Why have you got a brick in here,in the lounge?
I was playing with it.
With a brick?
Well,it has a certain cold masculinity,he replied assertively
Cold masculinity?. Shall I make some drinks? Mary asked tenderly
Yes,please,dear,very kind
Oh,look there’s Annie walking past arm in arm with a woman.
I knew George was bisexual but now I see she is also or maybe she’s turned quite gay!Were they both gay?
Well,it’s not our business,said Mary quietly.
Aha,thought Stan.That’s what you think.If only you could see inside my mind!Inside his mind though ,he was wondering if Annie would ever see him again.But I will not forgive her,I won’t.I won’t!
What he might have said more truthfully was “Can’t”
For indeed,it is hard to forgive people for trampling into one’s sacred space even if it is an accident or misjudgment not a deliberate attempt to dominate.but …….
Life is sweet and yet very hard too for all of us but forgiveness helps

Kleenex logo
Kleenex logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The creaks of loving:Stan gets a surprise

 Cracks in the pavement 3

A surprise

Stan and Annie have been having such a lovely time since Mary went off.Stan has quite given up his addiction to microfibre cloths and polishing the windows.He and Annie can now make love at night and go out for trips in the day time.
Emile’s diary is getting quite full although he is worried he may bebanned from sleeping on the foot of the bed soon as he may be in their way.How will he know what they get up to?
Luckily there is a gap at the bottom of the door so he should be able to see them in the mirror opposite the bed.They usually light the bedside lamp so as to see into each other’s eyes.
~Annie is a very bold,confident woman.Despite being rather plumper than is medically advised she loves her body and lives happily in it now she has true love.
One morning Stan goes down to make some tea whilst
Annie comes to.
“Stan,come here quickly!”
“What’s wrong,my little lamb chop?”
“I feel sick!”
“Was it those old sausages we ate up last night?”
“No,it’s a different sort of sick!”
“You don’t mean………..?”
“Yes,Stan,I’m afraid a miracle has happened!”
“But you are 55 and I’m 90.Surely we can’t have a baby!”
“Well,the ways of God are strange.” she murmured.
“I don’t want to bring God into it.” he riposted.
“Are you not pleased we are still fertile?” she asked
him humorously.
“Well,in the abstract I might be but in the concrete it
could be awkward.” he said furtively
“What do you mean?”
“Well,Mary will be coming back in a couple of months,you
“We don’t have to tell her you are the father.I could
pretend it was the new Vicar at St Andrew’s”
“But he’s gay!”
“Not many men are able to resist my charms and skills.”
“I can believe that,”Stan answered lubriciously.
“But will you have to seduce him soon before he notices
you are pregnant>”
“I wasn’t thinking of actually going to bed with
him,”said Annie with a smile.
“Oh,dear.I was looking forward to that,”Emile murmured
under his breath.
“That would have made my diary into a best seller.”
“Gay vicar seduces middle aged harlot who is now
It sounds a bit like the old Bible stories except they
had no vicars in those days.But miracles like older
women bearing children did happen so…who knows?
Stan and Annie got dressed and went into the kitchen.
They were both looking confused.
“You don’t want an abortion do you?” he enquired
“No way.” she replied softly.
I love you so much,I could not wish for more than to
“In that case,I’ll tell Mary.She is a very wise woman in
many ways,though a bit lacking in the earthjer side of
life.She has not slept with me for thirty years or
“Perhaps she thought you were too old?” said Annie.
“No,she never enjoyed it.She just put up with it as she
wanted a baby.”
“Maybe you did not turn her on!”
“I did my best,but she preferred reading Proust and
“I wonder of she has Asperger’s syndrome?”
“Well,they do find social life trying but I suppose she
can’t blame you for loving another?”
“No,she’s very broadminded.I’ll suggest we all move in
together.I’ll divorce her but she can have the big
bedroom and we’ll have the guest room with the en
“I think this will be fun.”
“Well,not all of it but it will be intriguing,”
“So no need to seduce the Vicar,then?”
“We’ll leave him out of it.He might fall in love with
you and then what would happen?”
God only knows,”She answered humorously as she went
into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.
Read more about this next week or it may be too late!

Baptism by love:Stan suffers in the Rehab Unit


Art by Katherine      

After church on Sunday Mary decided to visit Stan , her elderly ,gentle and  frail  husband in the Rehabilitation Unit where he had been sent recently by a strange physiotherapist…He was unhappy as the diuretics made him pee even mo e often than he used to do and  he got very worried about it because his bad heart made it extremely hard for him to walk.
When she went into the small  four bed ward she saw Stan sitting on his chair without any pyjama trousers on even though it was visiting time from 3 to 8 pm.
Why has he no trousers on? Mary asked a nurse angrily, her blue eyes full of unshed  glistening tears which almost washed off her turquoise mascara and made runnels in her honey beige foundation by Rimmel of London and Paris
He keeps wanting  to  go to the toilet so it’s easier for us   all  if he has no pants on,the nurse told her haughtily.He’s on diuretics,you see as he has water in his lungs and other inner organs and the water has to be removed from his body,Sheila ,the nurse announced ina cold voice
What about the lack of dignity in baring him to the world,Mary enquired softly yet piercingly her eyes dripping tears again.
Dignity,what’s that? the nurse said insolently.He is just a pest. And old men don’t deserve any attention.We are tired of them.They should all die now.Thats’s government policy it appears
Emile who had hidden in Mary’s old,but good olive green Radley leather handbag let out a sound like a banshee in Cork or a demon in a nightmare.
The nurse looked  quite frightened
What’s that? she whispered to Mary behind her hand.
It’s probably Satan coming to say ” hello” to you as you seem very wicked to me.Mary informed her politely yet honestly in her Northern way.
Oh my,what shall I do? the nurse asked in a trembling voice.I am so upset now.
You could try reading the Ten Commandments,Mary riposted jocosely… if it’s not too late.
Or recalling the Golden Rule………
I’ve never heard of the golden rule,said the nurse.Is it a measuring instrument of some unusual type?
Yes,in a sense it is,Mary said.It measures us by our compassion towards others.And you seem to have none for Stan.Can you not imagine what it’s like being a man sitting half naked in a public room with no recourse?
What’s a recourse,Sheila, the nurse, asked her thoughtfully,Is it a garment like a dressing gown?
No,it’s a a source of help in a difficult situation.It’s a remedy or an  option
I have a higher degree in nursing,Sheila boasted stupidly.
I don’t care if you have a doctorate in nursing and philosophy,Mary cried.It’s what you do and say to the patients that counts.And going to an evening class in English would do you no harm.Your vocabulary is limited,to say the least.And words are useful  whatever job you do.Or even if you are unemployed it helps you deal with bureaucrats
Oh,dear,said the nurse,I am sorry for being so thoughtless.I am always thinking about sex,love and clothes instead of the patients.I see now I have fallen into evil ways and hope I can improve a little.
You have been cruel, said Mary.And seeing my aged husband like this is breaking my heart.
She went over to Stan and sat by him.He fell against her bosom hungrily.Alas it was not for erotic reasons.His blood sugar was only 2 and his BP was 60/40.He was dying there with no trousers on and with no-one but Mary to help him… and Emile, their small  intelligent black cat ,of course.Unfortunately Emile’s trousers were too small for Stan

.Mary wrapped a bath towel around Stan and held him in her arms.
Stan tried to speak but Mary could not make out what he was saying.Tears ran down her  beautiful lined and wrinkled face and dripped onto Stan’s head.I suppose one might say it was a kind of baptism by love.Now Stan will be entering a new dimension and will be given a new and better name by One who cannot be named here.But you catch my drift?

Judgement is mine says the Lord.

The Messiah is a cat

  • P1060481_stitch [1024x768]
    he Vatican by Mike Flemming 2015.Copyright
    Stan awoke feeling very thirsty.My, this bed is much  too hard,he thought.He put out his hand and felt some wood not far away.It was his desk.
    Emile was lying on his stomach purring.
    You fell out of bed,the little cat miaowed.Luckily I clung on with my claws and I am ok sleeping down here….I can see any mice better.
    Well,it’s not ok with me,Stan informed him gently.How can I get up from here?
    He picked up the Cambridge Companion to Sylvia’ Plath and banged on his desk softly.
    Mary was awake and heard a strange sound.She got up and found Stan lying on the floor with his head by his desk.
    Emile wanted to sleep by the wall,you see.,he told her.
    Then he rolled over and I fell out.

    Vestibule and Chantry Chapel Eastbridge Hospital) (c) Jane Risdon 2015

    That is logically and scientifically unsensible,Mary told him.Surely Emile is not so big that his weight was enough to knock you out of the bed?It is against the law of g.ravityAnyway,why don’t you get up?
    I like it  down here,the old man lied to her.
    OK Mary said,then she picked up the phone and rang 999.
    Hello,she said.My cat is very upset as he feels guilty for pushing my husband out of bed.
    How terrible for you,the man answered.I’ll send an ambulance right away.
    Mary opened the front door and left it unlatched whilst she lit the electric lights with a match.

    How do you feel Stan,she enquired

    .I am thirsty,give me so brandy,he ordered her politely as he was very full of kindness.

    They said not to let you or Emile drink or eat.

    Blooming ridiculous,he told her in a manly fashion
    Soon the ambulance arrived and the paramedics were running up the stairs to seee the poor cat.
    Mary fainted so they laid her on the bed whilst they comforted Emile and cleaned his paws.
    Then they picked up Stan and laid him right next to Mary,his wife.
    Why don’t you have a bigger bed,one asked Stan.
    Bigger than what,he responded academically.
    Well,if you were any fatter you’d not be able to get laid with your wife.
    True,he replied but I am 96 you know.I have erectile malefaction already  and am unwilling to have more mistresses and lovers or even concubines.
    I shall make you some tea the female paramedic told them forcefully
    Well,you don’t seem to be hurt,the other one told Stan, but the cat may need therapy or counselling because of the guilt he will feel.
    He’s not  a Catholic I hope.
    No, he’s Jewish,Stan shouted  nervously.
    That’s alright then.He can have concubines if he chooses.How do cats get to be Jewish? anyhow
    It’s their souls,Mary said…they are all waiting up there for a suitable place to be reborn and some choose to be cats.
    But how can you tell? he asked wonderingly.They have no prayer shawls
    They miaow in Hebrew,Mary said loftily.And they like to sing the psalms before bed.
    But how do you  know it’s Hebrew,he replied.Do you speak it?
    No, it’s just he hates bacon and peperoni and always wears a hat so it seems he must be one of Jesus’s friends,but not Judas of course.I suppose Jesus wore a hat but it’s never been found as yet.Not even being sold as relics.


    Well,that’s intriguing.Do you think Emile might be the Messiah?
    Oh,dear.We never thought of that.Will he have to go to Galilee and catch fish and walk on water?
    No, he can go to Rome and tell the Pope that the Church is not what God planned.
    I hope they don’t kill him,Mary cried…
    God will not be very happy.
    I didn’t know God had moods,Stan said.
    He has post-creative depressive disorder….no wonder when we look round he world.
    Still they did try,I’ll say that for him or her.
    And so say all of us
    For he’s a very good yeller,he’s a very good yeller
    A cat’s life is a fuss.Miaow

Stan and the angel


Stan had eaten too much pizza all at once because he was extremely ravenous from doing the washing and hanging it up on the mulberry tree in his long garden, Now he felt lazy and haphazardly fey;he felt other worldly and liable to have visions..Now and then he saw an angel, whom he called Yael,in his home.But having looked up Yael on a website he realised she was not a very nice woman unlike his dear wife Mary.So he was planning to have a new name for the angel with her permissiom
Do you mind if I change your name,he enquired gently when Yael came in through the French window looking gentle yet fierce.
Well,what to? Yael asked him familiarly
How about Ysabel? Stan offered.It’s got just an extra b and s.
Or how about,Sybael?
You seem fond of b and s, the angel answered in confused humour.
It was just mere chance,said Stan somewhat defensively.
Ok I’ll take Sybael,the angel said loudly .
I want to change my name too, said Emile the cat living with Stan.
How about Mebiles or Melibes or Eimbles….
I don’t know, pouted the cat haughtily.
How about Semile,said Stan.Though it has no letter b in it, he bragged.
They all pondered quietly as the sun shone in through the window and made a lovely lacy pattern on the walls.
In came Mary,Stan’s sweet old wife and his computer aided extension too.
You are very quiet,Stan,she murmured.What’s going on here?
We are tring to find a new name for Emile,Stan told her as Sybael waved her wings about.
It seems very draughty ,Mary said.And Emile can’t change his name because it will change his personality.That is a fact.
I didn’t know I had a personality,the little cat purred.
It is what is most characteristic of you.For example, if you always hurt those you love then you have a cruel personality or you have got diabetes.Some people want love but they are too harsh and demanding.
So true,Stan added pensively.
Anyway,I have some awfully strange news,Mary went on.
You just won’t believe this but Dorothy Grey who lives at the bottom of the hill by the church has just had a heart attack.
How come?
She had an online love relationship with a rather peculiar but intriguing and clever elderly man who turned out to be a sadist in disguise.So when she ended it he flew over and attacked her with an air gun and some cat’s claws which he had bought from a cat market in Morocco
Is he a wizard,asked Emile excitedly.
No, he flew on a stolen magic carpet from Persia or somesuch..
Persian carpets,I’d love one here said the cat greedily
Actually it’s a kind of aeroplane,said Stan.
How boring ,said Mary angrily.Anyway Dorothy was so shocked her arteries spasmed and she is in A and E now on morphine,she added..
What a shame that she got that instead of a spasm elsewhere….Stan muttered thinking of Freud’s writings.
But who’d have sex with such a horrible harsh old man? Mary asked.
An equally horrible old woman,maybe? Stan riposted.
Any way it all goes to show the dangers of online love, he informed the room.
It’s not real love,is it, because in real love the other person is as important to you as yourself.Mary said theologically.
Well, Eros is a kind of love,too.But many old men just want thei washing done and a companion.Eros has departed from their world.
Sybael smiled and then flew out of the window.
What was that noise, said Mary anxiously as her ears were very sharp.
Just an angel’s wings,said Stan quietly
If only Dorothy had seen an angel instead of that harsh old man she might be much better now.Mary mused.But not everyone can see them.The world seems full of horrible old men and beautiful young women
Emile winked at Stan and then ran out to chase a butterfly amongst the scented tulips.. there were lots of angels there every day but only he knew.
Angels don’t like big modern cities but they like old abbeys and cathedrals and places where such things used to be before post modernist architecture took over.
And cat’s claws are not meant for scratching your loved ones either.Online dating should be avoided except with atheists and agnostics.They are less judgemental about women’s place and roles.It’s strange how harsh many religious people are.Harsh and unforgiving.Still it’s probable  in their genes

Thoughts about fiction and reality

Charles Dickens,the great novelist of Victorian England
Fiction is invented,of course, by novelists and writers.And we also have lies which are slightly different.The truth of fiction when well done comes from the use of the true imagination based on genuine interactions with what is other than ourselves and is a way of depicting the truths of the heart.

The true imagination can only be effective when it is not fantasy based on  mere wish fulfillment.To me that is what Buddhism is about.We desire nothing in order to get everything and more.

Lies,on the other hand ,may be for purposes of  manipulating other people or may be the product of fantasy which is common in children who “make believe” they are having a birthday party because they want one so much.
I might say fictional writing in novels or poetry using the true imagination helps us to understand complex reality better..Lies can  be very destructive.And we have the kind of language used in the novel 1984 by George Orwell where black can mean white and death merely.termination of life…. we have begun to hear a lot of this and it does have an utterly bad and even destructive effect on personal and political life.The most famous example is when some politician was lying but it was referred to as being “Economy with the truth”.It’s our intentions which count to in making us moral agents.We may lie so smoothly we feel it will have no illl effect.

Imagining what it is  like to be  another person as in Dicken’s great novels about the poor is very powerful and can change government policy via changing people’s hearts and minds.

I feel imagination does have this purpose of making us feel for others and bring us closer even to murderers and criminals when the writer makes their world something we can comprehend.

Reality is very complex which is one reason we have all the arts,science,mysticism,religion as they all look at or relate to different aspects of life.

Plain lying is a selfish activity for our personal benefit or to avoid trouble when we have misbehaved.And we weave a web of destruction

Emile and his cat therapy:On the sofa with myself

Emile’s pyscho-analyst

As the new day dawned,Peter Fried.. that infamous psychoanalyst woke upto find himself in the washing machine yet again.He unwound himselfand crawled out.On the table was a note.
Dear Peter,
I washed up..hope you had a good night in the washing machine.Speak to you soon…Best wishes,Susan.

He moaned loudly at the prospect.Perhaps staying in Hampstead would have been better but he felt an obligation to spread his new therapeutic methods to the less civilized parts of Britain… such as Knittingham.But he had already met the most peculiar people who had caught him on their pan and would soon be eating him for dinner.
He looked out at the street… but there peeering into the window was Emile. the well loved cat
For,God’s sake Emile… why are you back here,he whispered.
I’d like to finish off your curry,Peter.
How kind of you.. please come in.
When Emile came in he jumped onto the couch.
You can’t eat it there,Emile,Peter said politely.
Well.. the truth is..I think I need therapy.Is it very expensive for cats?
I don’t recall anyone having treated a cat before.
This could make you famous,Peter.
Well,why do you think you need therapy?
I am suffering from a severe case of unfulfilled love.
You have problems with your lady cat friend?
No, no… the problem is I am in love with Susan.I dream of her every night.
And what are you doing in the dream?
What would you be doing,Peter..
I’m afraid the analyst must not reveal themselves,the cunning man responded rapidly as he blushed shyly.
And my second and more serious problem is that I am afraid I may be bisexual…I love you now as well as her.Is there any hope that i can return from neurosis to just the normal unhappiness of life?
Well, for a start I’d stop reading Freud..And let me ask Stan whether he is willing to pay for therapy.
Is it very expensive? asked the cast pensively
I let you use my washing machine free but he must pay for the soap powder.
What, are you going to give me washing machine therapy.
Well,it may be the best for you as the mud you lick from your fur may be affecting your brain.
Any other type of therapy?
Well, we might try Mindfulness or Meta-cognitive therapy.
That sounds very complicated.
Well,apart from that,you can keep busy , avoid coming  here and don’t touch  my best  suit…
But can’t you write a paper like Freud wrote about the Wolf Man? Emile enquired with a strange enchanting charm

Wow,Emile you are very clever but alas that does not make people happy as you are a mere cat.It causes envy in their souls.So just mew now and then and purr and soon you will find a lady cat to love,I feel sure.You must not free associate as we now know Freud was mistranslated and he meant, Fee Negotiate.That means fight over the money you pay.I am not happy as money is the root of much evil especially when it is stolen from the poor to  give to a witch or a wizard living in West Finnisterre or Doggerell.

And good night to you all and may God bless you all, some more than others


In the bin to sin

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Stan was in his front garden polishing the wheelie bins with lavender wax polish.
He was not very happy as the garden was only 10 feet by 12. so the huge wheelie bins ruined it.When he got to the third one the lid popped open and out jumped his next door neighbour “Adulterous Annie”.
Hello,Stan” she whispered.”Where’s Mary now ?”
“Why?”Stan muttered into the back of her neck which he licked as he like her salty taste.
“I was thinking,these bins are so big,we could both get inside one.It would make a change1!”.
“What a strange idea” he replied philosophically.however age was no obstacle where love was involved. if you catch my drift.You can or you can’t or you improvise.
Soon Stan and Anne were in the big green recycling bin.Stan being 81 had shrunk somewhat so he took up less space than Annie did.He allowed her to kiss his left eyelid.What a lovely feeling.
Alas, all too soon for the illicit lovers they heard Mary’s bicycle bell.She was getting faster amd faster at shopping.As she wheeled her bike up the 30 yard long front path to the porch she heard murmurings and mutters,
She lifted up the green plastic lid and saw the two lovers covered in cuttings from the privet hedge.
“What the bleedin’hell are you doing in there?”she shouted mellifluously.
Well,it’s hard to explain,……………but Stan was wondering about a green funeral” Anne said mischievously.
“Funeral ,my hat!” Mary said heartily.”Get out at once”
“Don’t speak to me like that” Stan beseeched her brazenly.
“Well,it’s a bit of a shock to find your husband in the bin with another woman!”
“Wouldn’t it be more of a shock if he was in the bin with a man,or even a sheep?”
“Schmann or Schwommann,sheep,,it’s immaterial.”Mary responded
“Hurry,get out,quickly before the school exit time.what will all the mums think as they go by?”
But poor Stan could not get out,He was stuck.
“Have you got your mobile on you?”
“Yes,it’s here in my bag.
“You’d better call 999”
“What a brilliantly original non-idea!”
Soon Dave the paramedic arrived.
Mary showed him Stan’s situation.
Ever resourceful ,Dave was not bothered though the NHS budget might be getting cut.
He tied some rope round Stan’s waist and between the three of them and Emile the cat and his friend Elizabeth, they managed to haul him out.
Annie stood weeping with shame.Her silvery blue eyeshadow was beginning to run mixed with tears and black water soluble mascara from Chanel of Paris and London. Her new coral lipstick from Clinique was not as non-allergenic as she hope.Never mind,it gave her lips that bee stung look that many men admire.It reminded Stan of his boyhood days playing near High Force Waterfalls in upper Teesdale….Teesdale ,still an undiscovered and undervalued part of England,Contact the English Touring Board for more information. Holiday Loans available from Thwaites of Stockton and Darlington at only 1% interest.
Mary gave Annie a large Kleenex tissue,
“Come indoors,honey, and I’ll make you some Ceylon tea.It’s been the most thrilling event of my entire life and I’ve photographed you with my new Nokia camera phone [Prices available on request from The Catphone Warehouse,Teesside,Northern England,comes in pink and pink and…pink?How I love pink!]
I’m going to send some to the local paper.
Stan staggered upstairs covered in bits of privet ,lettuce and cabbage hearts, and carrot tops,not to mention a few dozen banana skins and a few potato peelings.
What an afternoon.[Please contact the society for the care and protection of vegetables if you wish to make a complaint about this story.}
“That’s the last time I climb into a green wheelie bin”,he thought.
“Next time we’ll use the cardboard and newspaper wheelie bin instead

The anniversary

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Stan was wearing his best suit topped by a denim apron polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife.Mary entered the room wearing a long purple and mauve dress which clung somewhat tightly to the curvaceous contours of her beautifully rounded body.On her feet she had some smart pewter ballet slippers and in her elegant hand she carried a huge pewter clutch bag which contained some of her many medications.She addressed Stan,”I think I can leave my handbag behind if I put my mouth spray into my bra.”
“That somehow detracts from the romance of the evening.” Stan pronounced openly.

“Well,you know,I never had a cleavage until lately and I fell I ought to make the most of it.”

“Surely I should be the one make the most of it,” he riposted jocosely.
“Of course you angel,but not in the restaurant,”she answered back sweetly
“I’ll put your spray in my pocket then,shall I?”
Suddenly the doorbell rang.”Who’s this?”It was Annie,their next door neighbour. she was wearing a coral velvet track suit with matching Reeboks and sun hat .”Hi,I just came in with a little prezzie,”She declaimed.In her hand was a huge box of chocolates..”Gosh,Mary you look lovely in that beautiful long dress but you’re not going on your bike,are you?”
“No,we are having a cab,but it’s not come as yet.”
“Well,never mind.I’ll ring 999 and get them to send an emergency ambulance for you!”
Fortunately,as luck would have it the minicab appeared from the sky and it was only as they were entering the restaurant that Stan realised he was still wearing his old denim apron.
“Shall I take it off?” he pondered.
On the pro side I will look smarter on the con side I might spill some soup down my front.I wish I’d done more logic at college.So he kept it on.Mary didn’t seem to notice.She just took him for granted.If he stood on his head and sang”Jerusalem” she probably wouldn’t pay any attention.
Then he noticed that Mary was wearing an apron too.It was the same colour as her dress.What a brilliant idea,he thought.”There may be money in this.” He could start a small business,”Aprons R You” selling lovely aprons in all colours of the rainbow.
Suddenly he heard noises;he awoke and heard Mary shouting “How can you go to sleep when you are out with me?”
“Would you prefer me to recite the Periodic Table?” he snapped gently.
“I’d prefer a poem,” she cried…All right,Petal,I’ll think of one soon.In the meantime would you like a fool?” “No.I’ve got you,” she responded handsomely.
“I mean for a pudding?” “Oh,yes please.A Rubik fool would be lovely.It will pass the time.You know I get so bored.”
“Well,I do my best but it’s hard keeping up with you.would you like to read a few truth tables whilst I finish my meat.”
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small leather bound book.
“Truth tables and levitation for geniuses,” by Bertha Russell.
“Oh,Stan,this looks interesting.I’ve always wanted to fly like an angel or an owl.”
“It’s never too late to say never.” he responded.”Whatever do you mean?”
“I don’t know.Just because a sentence is grammatically correct doesn’t imply that it means something.”
“Yes,quite right.And conversely a sentence can mean something even when it’s not grammatically correct.”
“Isn’t thinking exciting!”
“Yes,indeed.I was thinking how exciting it will be to go to bed with you.”
“Wow,good grammar and full of meaning.I am yours.I am like a ripe plum ready to drop off the tree.I am a cat ready to mate.I am a song waiting to be sung.”
“Gosh,are metaphors your bete noir?”
“Je ne parle pas Francais.

Aimez vous ein Nederlander?”

“Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
Ist sein mutter immer krank?”

And so they trotted off happily to bed like two pigs in clover,as Shakespeare might have said when pissed.

Bionic therapy with Annie and Emile



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Peter Fried,the Bionic psychoanalyst  ,who had recently arrived in the fine  midland town of Knittingham, had noticed that whilst he was practising “free floating attention” with his patients an image of a cat peering in the window behind the couch was troubling him.He hoped it was not some hallucination transferred from the Unconscious of one of his patients into his consciousness.

Still,having a black cat looking in the window was by no means the most unpleasant optical illusion he had ever suffered.In a way,it was quite sweet.
He was back in his “home” flat boiling some eggs for his supper when the doorbell rang.He opened it cautiously with a sort of excitement. mixed in.There stood a strikingly attractive woman wearing a purple coat and a red hat with matching red ballet flats and a bright green designer handbag from TKMaxx.[£29.99 and well worth it]
Hello,I thought I’d introduce myself,I live across the street next door to Stan and name is Anne..How are you settling in?
She walked confidently through his flat and into the new  dark teak kitchen with its gleaming work surfaces and marble pastry rolling strip…. though Peter never made pastry himself.
Eggs!Are you a curry lover?By pure chance and serendipity I have a tin of vindaloo sauce here.I could pour it over these eggs.

Should we not remove the shells first?Peter asked with a just hint of humour.
Definitely,leave it to me.I’ve brought some naan bread and some brown rice too
How did you know I was boiling six eggs?Why Emile told me,of course!

Emile….is he black?
Some people call him black,others say he’s mixed race.
Let’s not argue about semantics or political correctness,he replied discourteously.
I don’t even know what semantics, are she screeched softly into his left ear.
Well,that is no barrier to arguing about them,he replied diplomatically.
Well,it’s senseless, she answered kindly.”I am not a person who enjoys an argument.Go and sit down,read the paper and I’ll finish preparing the curry dinner.

Is it common around here to have an unknown woman come in to cook your dinner?Peter asked Anne.
No,it’s the height of sophistication,she said judiciously.It’s just with you being new I wanted to meet you to see if you need any assistance in your work.I don’t need money,I like to serve the community in some way.Of course I am Stan’s mistress but as he’s in a bad temper today I’ve not seen him.I suspect he is growing tired of me.

Are you married,Peter asked her.
No,but I was once.My husband ran off with his brother’s wife,so we decided to pretend they were both dead.
That’s intriguing,said Peter,I am married but my wife developed an allergy to my skin.She could not bear to touch it so it became awkward… very awkward.
Fancy, and you a therapist too,she murmured softly,So where is she now?
Oh, she lives on the Isle of Man,near Peel.I do go to see her now and then… and there are lovely sunsets over there… you can see the Mountains of Mourne.
Are you lonely, she asked him very emotionally.

No,I see seven patients a day..
But that’s not the same as having a wife or a friend.
Since my wife’s allergy,I am afraid to touch another woman.
How sad,cried Anne…I have very thick skin.Would you like to touch me? she said seductively

Perhaps another time,Peter said in a kindly way,But thanks for being so generous.I am touched by your amiability and femininity and your kindness in introducing yourself.
Let’s eat the curry before we die of hunger.
They sat down at the kitchen table to eat the egg curry when they saw some amber eyes gleaming at the window.

Oh, dear,There’s Emile again.
Will he tell Stan?
Probably,but actually Stan no longer wants me.Yet Emile adores me.He will be jealous… he’s a cat,but he has the feeling of a man.
And indeed Emile’s eyes were gleaming like those of a tiger… he began to speak through the window glass.
Would you mind if I had some curry? Stan never makes it… I love spices
Why not? said Peter.
Emil’s plan was to get near Anne but first he had to eat the vindaloo egg curry.He took a,it was hot.His eyes began to water and his nose ran…. all round the room.He mioawed piteously
I need a hanky.
We shall have to ring 999,muttered Anne.
What! Do they tend to cats?
They usually have some hankies for cats….
So without any further ado,she took out her Samsung mobile phone and rang.
I don’t know how I shall get on living here,thought Peter.
He ran across the room and jumped into the washing machine with the tea towels and kitchen cloths.
Will he escape?
Buy the next chapter…only three shilling and sixpence or free with the Daily Wail tomorrow…order now for next life delivery!


Stan meets the new curate


Stan was reading the paper at 9 pm when,to his surprise,the front door bell rang.Emile,his delightful tomcat who was asleep,nearly jumped out of his warm furry skin.Stan opened the front door cautiously.
“Goodnight,sir.” remarked the handsome man standing there.
“Goodnight?”Said Stan confusedly,”Bur I’ve never seen you before.Are you the sandman who comes to put children to sleep?”
“Good evening,sir.” the man continued,”I’m so sorry my English is so poor.I am , still studying David McChrystal’s Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language and I’m still a trifle mystified.”
“What do you want?”Stan asked him.”What do I want?I want to study philosophy,write a novel and meet a stunningly attractive young lady with brown eyes and dark hair.”
“No,no.” said Stan”I mean,why are you here?”
“A good question,why are we here?Do we have a mission in life or are we here as a result of mere chance and happenstance or even serendipity?”
“I mean,why are you here ringing my doorbell at this time of the night?”
“Shouldn’t that be evening,sir?” The stranger enquired sardonically yet politely.
“Look.are you after something?”
“Well,I’m after a young lady at college though so far I’ve not managed to meet her one to one.”
“Well,faint heart never won fair lady!”Stan advised him.
“What’s happening,”called Mary from her study where she was reading a critique of Principia Mathematica for the seventh time.
“God only knows!” said Stan.
Mary came to the front door.She wore a green silk blouse with a jade necklace, a pair of smart jeans from Per Una and some pink trainers with yellow laces.On her face she wore Lancome of Paris light beige foundation,strawberry pink lipstick and purple mascara from Clinique.Her perfume was by Beyonce.Buy all this with one click on the link below.
“Goodnight,madam” said the stranger.
“I think that’s so rude,” said Mary.”If you’ve never met someone before it’s inappropriate to say goodnight.”
“Well,you aren’t in bed,” he replied laboriously.
“What the hell has that got to do with it?”
“Inappropriate is often used to refer to sexual behaviour.”
“Well,for crying out loud,who are you?” she whispered politely.
“I’m the new curate!”
“I’m Polish.”
“Well,I’m sorry I don’t know a single word of it.would you like to speak in Latin?”
“Ite,missa est!”The curate exclaimed.”Uno reductio ad absurdum”Stan muttered.
“That’s Italian,UNO” cried Mary.
“Well,it’s pretty similar.”
“Well,I must go,”said the curate amxiously.
“You’ve not been yet so how can you go?”
“I don’t know,sir.Good evening,good afternoon,good morning.”the red face man screamed as he ran hurriedly down the garden path.
“Are we Catholics now?”Mary asked Stan.
“Oh,I can’t remember,” he said.”Do we go to church?”
“Well,we may be non-practising,I suppose.”
“Perhaps we’d better start practising,” he murmured affectionately.
“Oh,if you insist,” she replied in an unwifely roguish tone.
“That’s right,blame it all on the man.In my experience it’s you who is keener than me.”
“What are you talking about?”she enquired seductively.
Suddenly the door bell rang.It was the curate.”Goodnight” he called.”goodnight”
“Goodnight,” they responded in their reserved English fashion.
“Mioaw” cried Emile,”Mioaw,miaow,miaow.

In the box with Father Knox

  • Pray Father,give me some washing.I’ve got Wikileaks and a new obsession.
    Tell me more,my child.I am feeling bored.
    I think someone has been inside my computer.
    They can’t be human. so why worry?
    Why not,Father?
    Well, we are not thin enough to get into the computer.
    Ah, they turn themselves into particles and come in with the current..
    when it’s high tide.
    Do you mean tied?
    No,Father.I’ve not been reading that book.Fifty Blades All Gay
    Neither have I but in the confessional I’ve heard it all and more.
    And how does that make you feel,Father?
    Why pay to read a fantasy when you can dream up your own?
    Some are born dim… others become dimner by choice
    Well,any sins tonight,my dear?
    I’m so sorry.I was planning to tell a lie but I forgot.
    There’s a list of sins in the Missal…have you read those?
    Yes,I’ve not tried most of them yet…  though I just got a slight  pang of anger
    when a brick fell onto my head from a clear blue sky.
    That’s natural anger,my child.but I feel it was odd for a brick to fall like that
    Has a brick ever fallen on your head,Father.
    Not yet but I’m only 97.I must buy a hard hat
    Wow,you look much olde than 97 r.Are you longing to diet?
    Why, is there no food in heaven?
    I wonder who cooks if they eat up food
    Maybe they live on manna.
    Does God eat food?
    That was one topic we never did in the cemetery.
    Do you mean the seminary.
    At my age, they are all one.
    You have reached Nirvana….congratulations.
    Well.I’d prefer a cup of tea.
    You English!
    What are you?
    I’m a great Dane.
    Did you say a grey Dane.
    That too.
    Well perk up;the show’s not quite over till the gnat really stings.
    Do gnats eat string?
    String… it’s my passion.Love it or mate it…get involved.
    Live a little.
    And for your penance… you must have a bath…
    I don’t like the way you smell.
    Well,I am a dog.. we like  to sniff.May I borrow your hanky?
    Definitely,I shall dry your tears for you and  please try to commit  few intriguing sins before you come back here.
    I’ll wash it for you.And dry  it out of doors
    Well,it’s not over till that gnat gets its sting and the phone gets a ring

Emile’s picnic

Source: Kathryn

Emile has a picnic

Stan was washing the big new car while his dainty wife Mary packed a picnic basket.He was already feeling very hot, even bothered.Emile, his cat and friend, was sitting on the wall overseeing the car wash.

Would you like to come,Emile?Stan murmured.

Yes,I’d love too but what can I eat? Emile murmures

How about a tin of sardines?Stan asked tenderly.

Do they have those little keys on the side?I find them hard to open.

So it was you,Emile!I thought Mary must have sleep walked and tried to open a tin.If you get good at all these tasks nothing will be safe.

I tried to open that tin of gooseberries.Emile confessed sheepishly

You must be a fool,Emile!Why gooseberries?Stan said  with bull like tact

They looked so nice but they were full of pips.Tinned gooseberries are not so tasty except made into a jelly

.Can we take some jelly on the picnic?Emile continued

Well,it would be lovely but it might melt! Stan informed him knowingly

OK I’ll settle for a tin of sardines,the cat mewed politely.I’ll have a gooseberry yoghurt instead

.Since when did cats have puddings,Emile? Stan enquired

I always envied you,so I thought I’d ask.Emile said sensibly

Why,you are almost human,Emile.Next you’ll want a suit and some brogues. Stan teased him

I’d prefer sandals,responded the striped cat sensibly

Why is that,my dear,Stan asked lovingly.

So I can still scratch people or milk them when on their laps.Emile admitted

You naughty cat!You”ll have to give up scratching if you want to become more moral.

Yet..What is a cat without its claws?

What is a wasp without its sting?

What is a woman without her temper?

What is a man without……………..

Have you finished,Stan? called Mary,thus preventing the author from revealing what Stan thought was masculine just in the nick of time

Yes,my dear.I just need a rug for Emile to sit on …or how about this old tablecloth? Stan shouted.

That’s my new apron,Mary confessed.

! looks as if you’ve cleaned Buckingham Palace including the chimneys! Stan said sarcastically

That just shows you how hard women work and to think I could have been working on my new book”Wittgenstein’s Hats!” Mary moaned

I didn’t know about that, Stan said in a puzzled voice

.Well,I’ve done four on his cats……… so..I moved on to hats

Did he wear a hat? Stan asked her curiously

That is the problem.Although Jewish he was raised as a Catholic in Vienna.And Catholic men take off their hats in church.Mary said with an air of certainty rare in women

Well,that is  just politeness.Stan remined her

Yes,but Jewish men must wear a hat all the time.It’s part of their code.It shows respect for God.Mary had to tell him

Do they wear a hat in bed? Stan asked her cheekily

I believe not as it could drop off and frighten somebody.Mary remarked with wisdom

Well,tell me more about the book.Stan said kindly

It’s obvious to me that the source of much of Wittgenstein’s severe anxiety and guilt was his conflict whether/when to wear a hat said Mary proudly as she was the first academic to  spot this

.Did he solve it? Stan asked her.

I have evidence to show he wore a night cap!I have many photographs, his wife admitted

Where did you get those from?Stan quizzed her politely

Well……….I have friends who are into photography……..And without photos the book would not sell,she told him nervously

How about cartoons,mewed Emile.Alas,no-one was listening.Wait for the book!

The end.


Stan takes Satan on holiday Part 1

6429586_72f5d1321d_mStan met Satan in his mirror many times.And it was obvious the poor devil was terribly depressed.He said he was no longer needed as humans were more wicked than he ever was.Stan wondered how to help without doing anything wicked.
He went into the bedroom and looked into the mirror.At first he thought it was empty but the he saw Satan asleep in a ball.
Hi there,he called.Satan woke up.
Hi Stan.
Stan said
I’ve got an idea.How would you like a drive to Sheringham?
I dunno,I feel too depressed.
I think you need a change said Stan.He picked up Mary’s solid gold powder compact and opened it.What a lovely scent,he murmured,closing his eyes and remembering all the times Mary had taken it out to put on more lipstick or powder her nose when they were out dancing.
Now,see here.I have mirror here.If you can get behind this,I’ll put you in my pocket and Emile will sit by me in the car.
Without a pause Satan leaped into the gold compact and Stan could see him in the mirror.He popped it into his front pocket until he realised the devil could not see out.
He opened it and placed it in his pocket but with the mirror sticking out.
They drove off in Stan’s old Triumph Herald which was still functioning well.
Sat Nav,said Satan… is that how to find me…’s satellite navigation.It gives me a route to the seaside.Wherever I want to go
Bloody waste of money…what is wrong with a road Atla.?
It’s all progress.Stan told him.We must keep up or we will be thought lacking
By whom? answered the old devil
All of a sudden a police car came by and asked Stan to stop.
Why are you sending signals with that mirror?the police officer enquired..
To be continued

Stan meets Satan in the mirror


Stan was standing on the patio behind his bijou home when a sudden heavy  downpour of water drenched him all over.
This is like a monsoon,he murmured to Emile who was also wet and drowned looking
A head  and neck appeared over the dark wooden fence.
I’m awfully sorry,old boy.A pipe has burst in Annie’s loft.I tried to fix it myself.
I don’t believe it.You are Stan Brown.It must be 50 years since I saw you.
Stan was hiding his surprise at seeing Rudolf Hairnet,his former logic tutor at an ancient foundation, in the garden of Annie,Stan’s beloved colourful mistress.
Why not pop in Rudolf,he said.I’ll leave the door open and go upstairs to change my clothes.Be with you in a moment.
Stan went upstairs and removed his clothes.His body was now as thin as when he reached his full height of 6 ft 6 inches but alas it had less muscle and more fat. nowadays.He gazed into his wife’s full length mirror.
To his surprise, he saw Satan looking out.Although he knew this was possible for Catholics he had never met Satan before.Not that he was keen to,exciting as it might be.
How do you get behind the mirror,he asked  Satan gently.
God only knows,said Satan morosely.
Why not ask him?
I’m too proud,the poor devil replied in a bleak voice.
Well,we all have our pride,Stan told him,though no doubt yours is the biggest in the universe.
Yes,indeed,Satan answered.It’s bigger than Everest
Are you here for any purpose,Stan enquired.
Yes,your home seems more intriguing than most and I like to watch you in bed with that flame haired woman… is she your paramour?
I see,said Stan,You are a voyeur par excellence
That’s one way of describing me,Satan said,No woman will come to bed with me so I am trapped here behind every mirror in the world.I can see it all but never take part.
You must be very lonely,said Stan
Yes,the dark spirit muttered painfully
Are there no she-devils about who might oblige you?Stan asked him thoughtfully.
I don’t seem to fancy them so much.They are all as bad a me,I want kindness and tenderness not just lust.After all,one might satisfy that with a vibrator… we have them in hell you know!We have many things but love and humility are not there.
Why,you are beginning to sound almost human,Stan told him.We want love too.If only you would apologise to God I am sure he would forgive you and let you come into the real world of others instead of being trapped in there
Stan heard a noise.He turned round displaying his bony frame and his  drooping organs to Rudolf.
Are you ok? I was worried that the drenching had knocked you off balance.I have out your kettle on the  fire to make you a hot drink and phoned 999 for aid.
But we don’t have a fire,Stan responded.
Well,you do now said Rudolf,so let’s enjoy the flames while we can.To whom were you talking in there? he enquired grammatically.
I was on my mobile,said Stan defensively.
But where is it?You had nothing on ? On second thoughts,please don’t tell me .I’ve heard some strange stories but arsing about with a y phone is not one I wish to dwell on.
That’s logicians for you.No interest in the wilder shores of life.Stan told himself as he went downstairs and joined Rudolf for a good cup of tea.
And that is what I need to recover from writing down this very odd tale…
And so does Dave the poor  innocent young paramedic from heaven who is just arriving as we leave these two dear old men sitting by the mysterious burning shrub….

Stan and Mary meet each other in town and discuss 48 hour antiperspirants

Mary Brown had spotted her 98 year old husband Stan; he was across the road with a young blonde and stunning lady.She ran across the road risking being flattened by a n large bus which was only yards away.She knew Stan was very fond of women despite being married to her.
Stan,hi!Who is your pal? she enquired quietly
Why,this is Sabrina Smith.She is a mathematician from Stanford. in the USA… on a year exchange visit here in Knittinghan.
Why,hello,Sabrina Stan loves clever women… and in your case,you also have beauty as well.I am Mary.
Hi Mary,Stan told me you were out buying some Vaseline in the pharmacy
.He invited me to have coffee as I am alone today.
Oh,damn,I must have had a senior moment.It was that Jazz Band that distracted me.She refrained from saying why the jazz band was so intriguing to her.
Come on,ladies,hurry up,said Stan as he went into a brand new coffee shop staffed by delightful Turkish people.He ordered three cappucinos plus some milk for Emile who was in his backpack peerinr out benignly as if he were a baby kangaroo in his mother’s pocket.
They all sat down by the windows and gazed at the folk passing by in some rather unusual clothing.Unusually horrible is what they were thinking as the fashion for jeggings and leggings seemed to have been greeted warmly by the British women on view.And without a tunic one could see all they had on public display.
Sabrina was was wearing a short pink velvet dress and green shoes.
Don’t you find velvet very warm in the summer?,asked Mary.She was wearing a long cotton dress and some open toed sandals.
Well,it’s cotton velvet,Sabrina told her.Most is made from polyester now.I made this myself so I could choose the fabric
I have never learned to sew,Mary told her nervously.I was afraid of the electric sewing machine…Still,it’s probably cheaper nowadays to buy your clothes ready made.
Soon the women were engrossed in a discussion of their favourite fashion shops and styles.
I like a wool coat in winter,said Mary..I find down filled coats seem to make me perspire too much…even feel faint at times.
What kind of anti-perspirant do you use,Sabrina asked…
I tried Mitchum.I see it lasts for 48 hours.Does that mean you have no need to wash your armpits every day?
I must confess that puzzled me,Sabrina told her gently.
Anyway,it’s my face which sweats.I can’t put antiperspirant there…
No,it is likely to give you a rash and anyway the body needs to sweat to get rid of toxins,Sabrina informed her scientifically..
I don’t mind it sweating lower down, like on my legs,Mary said.But it’s embarrassing giving a lecture on why e is not an algebraic number with rivulets of water running down my face washing off my foundation cream and powder,
Yes,that is a real problem,Sabrina said wisely.I never knew anyone still wore powder.I like creme de mousse foundation myself.
Meanwhile Stan sat and gazed at Emile..he rolled his eyes.
I came here to talk naughtily to Sabrina,not to listen to women discussing sweat and antiperspirants.
Well,life is what happens when we are busy washing out our pans,Emile told him nastily
I don’t think that is quite right,said Stan.I have already washed all the pans and hoovered the ceilings…
Well,you see, much of life is out of our control.That’s why people like to take the Bible literally.They prefer to think End Times are here, than to realise life is always changeable and unpredictable.Any thing seems better than uncertainty.
How have you found teaching topology,Mary asked Sabrina.
I find it’s more fun than teaching logarithms,she continued,and exponentials…
Yes,I love teaching topology… and functional analysis.
Blimey, thought Stan, this is even worse than sweat and antiperspirants.
I use lily of the valley soap,he cried,interrupting the ladies.
Why,are you gay? asked Sabrina
No,I just use whatever Mary is using.
Why don’t you buy him some soap smelling of parsley,she asked Mary.
Why, can you get that? Mary responded.Coal tar is one we tried but he hates it…I think for men there’s not a lot of choice…
But,Sabrina cried,A man smelling of lilies of the valley might cause a disturbance,even a riot.
Why should women have all the lovely smells and men smell of coal tar and smoke?Stan like flowers too,you know.
The ladies looked at him with wonder as they sipped their lovely cappucinos.
I never thought of that before,Mary said.
Neither did I,Sabrina added.. this is not related to my work but my lover is a psychologist and he’s like to know about it.
Alright,ladies… time to go.Emile needs his dinner.So off they went all wrapped in their thoughts like a feather in a pillow…
Not what anyone had expected…but change is good for us,surely? Now we can wonder what sort of soap Dave,the delightful paramedic wears.. and does he use a 48 hour deodorant?

Mary gets worried

Mary was feeling a bit off colour.Then she found a scary looking thing on her neck…
Stan,she moaned,come here!
What is it my duck.Stan cried.Are you alright..
No,Mary replied,I just looked in the mirror.
Well,dear,you still look young to me,the dear old man replied… still I suppose it must be hard for someone who was o nce very beautiful.
No,it’s not that,she responded faintly.
What is it then?Did you see Satan?
Not directly,she told him gently… but I saw this funny looking thing on my neck…
Have your lovers been biting you,he enquired caringly.
Stan,I have no lovers.
I find that hard to believe,he replied.
I am your wife,she told him.
Are you really?I forgot…Well,if you’d like a lover I am ok with that.I am getting past it.
Well considering your behaviour you have not got a leg to stand on….
Mmmm, he murmured,I am a man,you see.
I know you are a man… I married you for that reason.
How kind.If I went in for a sex change op,how would you feel?
How would YOU feel she said.They won’t be wasting money on that any more.Why you have to wait 6 months for cancer ops.
Only if it is a “non-worrying cancer” which nevertheless
” must be removed before it invades the nearby structures” they reminded each other.
I am wondering if this thing which you claim is a love bite is in fact a cancerous lesion…
I know.I was wondering.And they’ve not done the first yet.
I think we should see the doctor.
I want to do more than see him.I’d like to speak to him.
What will you say?
Hello,you are my doctor,are you not?
That’s a bit pedantic..
Take a decco at this thing on my neck,which by the way is not a result of having sex with a vampire.
Do you always decide what to say before you go?
No,I usually write my concerns on a sheet of paper and hand it to him, being as I am a disordered  avoidant personality.
That’s a good idea as he hates people rabbiting on.
Does he?
Yes,he told me off for asking how he was!
How he was what?
That’s just what he said.I say, are YOU the doctor?
Just because two  people say the same thing it does not follow that  they are the same person.
But it is a strange coincidence… is it not?
Well,I suppose I’d better ring the surgery.
Hello, we are closed right now,Please go to Hell.The doctor has gone mad…
Did they really say that?
No, he can see you at 11 pm tomorrow in the woods…
I can’t wait…
Well,said Emile,you will have to wait.That’s what you always tell me…
Emile,you are a very intelligent cat.
Thank you miaowed the furry beast in a jolly voice.
May I come to the doctor’s with you.
Wait and see,said Mary rudely.I have a lot on my mind . I am getting too irritable . I might upset somebody.
A lot of people get irritable when stressed,said Stan
Yes, cats do as well, concurred Emile.. then they scratch holes in the carpet and gnaw the furniture….
That explains a lot,Mary said.I think you need a tranquilliser,Emile…. even cats can have nervous troubles…You may need therapy if we can afford it.Then you can study mentalising and read Peter Fonagy.What fun that will be,not.

God is a cat and Emile curses and swears:modern life

 Cats five

Mary was  on a  step ladder in the bathroom spying on her husband  Stan,through a hole in the wall…which he had drilled for spying on women sunbathing nude in their back gardens.

He was climbing over the fence with Emile their cat on his shoulder.
I think it’s so ridiculous, she muttered .
Surely Emile,  a cat, can jump over the fence by himself.But Emile was very limp,she then saw
He can’t be dead,she whispered  to herself fearfully.She jumped down off the and hit her head on a tap… a dangerous event for a human with weak  retinae or retinas or even deaf ears.
Oh,my!That hurt…I’d better be careful.She  flew down stairs and imet Stan in  to the kitchen
Emile has got concussion, Stan said happily
Is he not dead,she wondered anxiously.
No, he only fell off Annie’s roof.I am sure he’ll come to.
Good Lord.What made him go up there and more important,how

did he manage it manage to climb up?
You’d better ring 999,he informed her graciously yet boldly

If you say so ,my dear.I’d do anything you ask..
Don’t put on that act! he said nastily
I mean it.
A bit late now.
What do you mean?
After 40 years with your mind on Wittgenstein,Dirac,Pascal and Kierkegaard,do you think I don’t know you made a mistake marrying me
But whoever I married,I’d have read those same  writers…
Umphh,said Stan dolefully.
Just then Dave,the bisexual transvestite paramedic ran in.
Poor Emile,what have you done?
He fell off Annie’s roof, but we have no theory as to how he got there,said Stan.
Well, there’s no need to think of that… deal with reality.That’s my modus operandi!
He gave Emile the kiss of life.

Emile came to…but was not pleased
Why did you waken me up?I was having a lovely dream of walking down a silver  path where I saw a big cat with shining fur and tender eyes looking at me.He just began to miaow when some fucking idiot woke me up… was he God?
I can’t say,Emile,dear.But please do not swear.
I’ll do whatever I fucking well feel like,he said.
Good heavens, what has happened.Has he been reading dirty books?
No, he was watching East Enders on TV… they all use the f word constantly.
Well,Emile.God will have to wait… he’ll be glad if you do some kind work here on earth.
Up yours,said Emile.I am sick of living here.I’ve been hoping for years Stan would mate with Annie but he has only managed a deep kiss.
Perhaps it was the kiss of life,said Mary hopefully as it pained her to think Stanno longer desired her.
Well, in a sense,you might have hit the snail on the bed said Stan thoughtfully.I know any further mention of philosophy will drive me mad!
Now,Dave said,shall I make you some tea?
Thank you Stan responded.I am half crazed already.Tea may save my sanity.But for what?
Annie came in
Did you know Emile was in a hot air balloon,she said in tones of wonder.How has he got down so fast?
I fucking well fell out,the cat yawned proudly.Then I had a near death experience until this loon here brought me round.
Emile,I’ve never heard you swear before! she whispered in a strange manner reminiscent of almost silent films starring unnames and forgotten beauties of long ago.
Do you like it,baby? Emile asked.
No I don’t. I’ve never said Fuck in all my life.
Well you have now,the cat informed her with a naughty smile.
I think he’s possessed by demons.We’ll have to have him exorcised.
But I like demons,Emile bawled .I’ve been good all my life and I am bored and depressed.
So you believe swearing will help more than therapy?
Emile got up and lit a cigarette nonchalantly with a certain ,je ne sais pas.
Good grief,he’ll be having sex on the sofa next said Stan.
What a good idea,said Emile, but I want my own room and an en suite..I mean to impress the next girl friend I have.
Dave drank some tea and watched these old folk ponder.
I am wondering where we went wrong,said Mary.All these years we’ve educate you privately and even had you baptised.
Well.I am going to be a Jew,said Emile.
I don’t think a cat can be a Jew… and you never ever had any interest in the spiritual before,why this?
Well,when I was unconscious I realised that God exists….
But why a Jew?
Well,they were the first to see God in a Burning Bush..
And the last too, thought Annie nervously.
Well,said Stan.You want to smoke,swear ,make love and possibly enjoy wine and song.Is that not enough?
Does God smoke and swear?
There was a long silence and Emile answered
Well,you see,Yes he does.
I’m off said Dave.I have to ring the Pope.
Why? asked Emile.I’m not going be a Catholic….
Well,said Dave,he ought to know that God is a cat.

Even Stan’s cat weeps

Stan was sweeping the garden path.He had a stiff broom with a small head that was useful for cleaning the edges of the steps.Emile, his beautiful cat was sitting in the old apple tree gazing down on Stan.
“Is it time for coffee yet,”Stan asked himself.He had forgotten to put on his watch.
Suddenly he heard a shriek.He peered through a hole in the fence.His neighbor Anne was lying on her back in some mud.
“Hang on,I’ll come round!” he called.
There was a gate in the old fence which was rarely locked
since she loved to drop in on Stan.
“Oh,,how are you feeling?” he asked her anxiously.
“Bloody annoyed.I’ve only just bought these,”Not your daughter’s jeans” and now I’ve torn them,” she replied politely.
“But you don’t have a daughter!” he informed her loudly.
“I know that.It’s just they are better cut for the mature figure.”
“Your figure is not mature.You are quite dear,” he murmured lovingly.
“Well,I never feel happy with it!” she said mutinously.
“Whereas I am very happy feeling it,” he responded romantically.
Tears came into her green eyes lined with purple eye shadow.Alas,it was not waterproof and purple rivulets ran down her cheeks across the peach blusher with which she had valiantly decorated herself earlier.
“Can you get up?” he asked tenderly.
“Yes, but it would be nice if you picked me up.”
He leaned over her and licked the purple streams of tears off her cheeks.
“I hope it’s not poisonous,” she murmured.
Then with the aid of Emile,he lifted her to her feet and helped her into her large trendy kitchen.
The kettle switched itself on as they entered and a robotic voice asked if they’d like coffee.
“God in heaven,what the hell is that?” he cried confusedly.
“It’s my new computerized hot drink maker.After that fall I think a double espresso would be good.”
Emile ran in and asked for coffee too.
“Emile,you usually have milk,”Stan reminded him softly.
“Well,coffee is a new taste for me but I like a little.”
the cat whispered sweetly.
“I’ll give you some of mine in a saucer,” Stan replied.
Emile began to sob.
“Why Emile,whatever is wrong?”
“I want a cup and saucer just like you” the cat howled.
But you have no hands,Emile,” Stan reminded him.
The poor cat was crying loudly now.So Stan rang 999.
“Can you please send the emergency ambulance round.the cat’s crying and all his hankies are in the wash.”#
Soon Dave,the transvestite paramedic appeared.
“I love your light teal kitchen,” he informed Annie,
“And your eyes look like two deep pools in a coal mine.”
She slapped his cheek naughtily.
“Have a look at Emile” she ordered him sweetly.
He turned to the cat who was sitting on the dark pine table.
“Here,Emile,I got you some Kleenex for Cats in Sainsbury’s.” he said gaily.
“I want a real hanky,”cried Emile.Dave took a clean hanky from his own pocket and dried the cats tears.
“What made you cry.Are you feeling bad.”
“Yes,I want to go to Cafe Nero,” Emile mioawed.
“Who told you about that?”
“Another cat down the road has been and he said it’s lovely for people watching.”
“The town is not safe for cats like you,Emile.”
Dave urbanely replied,
“But when summer come I’ll take you to the out of town
Marks and Spencer’s.They have a cat’s coffee corner upstairs.”
“Wow,isn’t it amazing,”Stan wondered out loud.
So Dave poured out the coffee and they all sat down and
discussed Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein.
Ray has discovered that Wittgenstein liked cats but as he moved around quite a bit,he never owned his own cat
though Elizabeth Anscombe let him play with her three cats now and then.
We may all be different but most of us value the love of a good cat.Even boiling their hankies and ironing them is very nice.We all have this problem though.
Where can a cat carry his own hanky?
Do cats need shoulder bags?
What would Wittgenstein say?
Nothing is my guess.
Whereof one cannot speak…..

Stan and the crazy cats of Knittingham and the UK

Source: Kath


Stan was feeling sad because the clocks had turned back so it was dark at 4pm.His wife Mary was out on her old Raleigh with battery lit lights front and rear….though not quite on her ass.Stan is very vulgar sometimes as it cheers him up.When Mary gets home he did say to her once,You need a light on your ass .Mary,like the Queen,was not amused.

Emile Stan’s cat suggested they go for a walk before sunset and so off they went.Stan wore an old green overcoat and a flat cap.Emile was running ahead as he was so excited.Some times he sat on the sturdy old man’s shoulder on a cat pad.[On sale everywhere for two pounds ten and sixpence.]Stan felt his spirits rise as he walked as the sky was so beautiful striped in blue and peach just like it had been in the Holy Land when he went on a
Pilgrimage with other old Catholics from Knittingham Cathedral

How lovely it would be to walk in the wood and feel crunchy leaves under his boots.[From Hotters of Whelmersdale,Lancs] And Emile liked to bury himself in the leaves and leap put as Stan went by.But as they approached the wood a strange sight met their eyes,,, all four!

The trees were full but not with birds.They were full of cats.Big cats,fat cats,thin cats,pedigree cats,mixed race cats,cats of all colors and sizes.You can imagine the effect of having a hundred or more cats’ eyes staring yellowly at you in synchronized glares.Why,it was almost enough to send Stan running home for some brandy.


Emile went nearer.He spoke to a big black cat

What’s going on?,he mewed.You are in my territory,

The black cat looked at him with his big green eyes.

We are witches‘ cats.We have come from all over Great Britain,excluding Northern Ireland as cats are not allowed on the boats now. no ratsl eft]..Tomorrow is All Hallows Eve and we are accompanying our multi-ethnic multicolored witches on a grand flight over Knittingham…tonight we are having,The Big Sing… at midnight precisely.
Did you remember to change the time on your smartphone,asked Emile.All the cats began to giggle and laugh.

We don’t need phones or clocks.We go by the stars and the moon…though doubtless the witches have watches.

Do witches have watches?,Emile asked Stan,after telling him why the cats were there.

Old witches have watches,Stan murmured,mesmerised by the vision of the cats swaying in the gale force winds.Thank God cats have fur,he thought lovingly.

Can we have a walk here,?he asked testily.

Well,Sir,do you recall a song from your childhood,If you go down to the woods today,you;’re sure of a big surprise.At your age,is your heart soft enough to stretch when you see five thousand cats…

I am sure I shall be ok as long as the Good Lord does not come here to feed them with five loaves and two fishes
All the cats laughed again.Stan was puzzled how they managed to stay in the trees with wind and giggles and a few scrapping and fighting as tom cats so when lady cats are near.

We are already full of fish supplied by all the local pet shops,markets and goldfish bowls!

How disgraceful, thought Stan,to eat pet goldfish.but owing to the number of crazy cats he decided to keep quiet…As he got nearer he saw a few cats smoking pipes..Well,I never knew cats smoked,he said to Emile.Maybe it’s magic mushrooms or coyote,the cat said cheekily

Do you mean peyote?,Stan said querulously.Coyote are animals..

.Ah, get my drift,Emile replied cheekily

What was most strange was why this big meeting was taking place in Knttingham

.Then he remembered it was the center of the UK…that must be it.Most intriguing to see all these cats.A few even had tartan ribbons on as they were from Scotland.But how did they travel so far.No doubt it was all arranged by the Chief Wizard.

Somehow Stan and Emile felt self conscious as the cats were almost glaring at them,reminding Stan of an occasion when he and his wife had wandered by accident onto a remote beach for gay nude men.The looks they gave the old folk were far from gay;So he and Emile turned round and headed for home… at least they were forewarned of the midnight concert they and Mary would hear.Stan made some tea with twice as many tea bags as usual.
as he was concerned he might get PTSD or worse,maybe kittzophrenia.This poor man was blessed with a vivid imagination.

When Mary came in from the University he called out,

We have had the most amazing day,Mary….But Mary was wearing a pointed black hat and cloak…. and a big smile.

I know what you mean,Stan….I am just off to take a peek myself.She picked up her broomstick and rode away into the darkening sky.~to think one could be both a witch and a mathematician,,though numbers have a certain magic of their own as we all know

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