Twenty Shades of Wibberish:  No.27

God Sat There

God sat there, feeling glum, his chin propped on the palm of his hand as he idly twiddled his white beard with lazy fingers. The six day acid trip had given some fun moments, but now he gazed at his creation feeling empty and jaded. His eyes roamed aimlessly over the infinite detail of the slowly revolving Earth, pausing here and there as some creature or other stumbled along it's path of destiny. Godhood, like this random jumble of life he'd just made, seemed to be meaningless.

Then he saw Her! Her bright eyes smiled up at the dark heavens with a blend of coy innocence wrapped in provocative knowingness. Or was it the other way round? His pulse raced. "Holy fuck-sticks!", he coined a brand new phrase to express his delight. Now a sense of purpose pervaded his omnipotent mind. Inspired, he invented sunshine so that he could see her better.

As the new Sun rose he called to her in a deep resonant voice. "Dawn - I shall call you Dawn!"
She glowed back at him with impish charm, "No Mister. Dawn's over there under that tree, shagging some snake called Adam. I'm her sister, Eve!"

"Fancy an apple?" she innocently enquired, shyly rocking her naked shoulders as she held out the blushing fruit.

He stared down at her in stunned silence. God was mightily confused! What had he created? Thing's seemed to be running quite beyond his control.....!!!

W.I.B  September 2004

Daze of the Weak:  No. 57

Saturday, about Noon

All last night I was thinking about 'Reason'.

Well I am a great believer in logic, in cause and effect and all that. Yes, I am very confident that everything that happens is the result of things that happened before. There is an unfortunate side effect of living in an age of reason though; One needs a jolly good explanation to justify everything that One does and everything that One is.

For example, yesterday somebody demanded to know why I have not cut my beard for over a year. I had to think very hard, combing through all the facts, trends, fears and ideas that are currently holding everyone's attention; The economic meltdown, an ageing population, global warming, nuclear proliferation, knife crime and juvenile delinquency all came to mind.

So anyway, I answered her with a very simple statement: "I have never seen a man with a beard down to his waist who suffered from frostbite of the chin!!"

On reflection it wasn't such a clever answer. Unless the Scientists bring back the Nuclear Winter I'm going to have to think up a new justification before next summer.

Twenty Shades of Wibberish:  No.26


4th October 2008.

Letter to the editor. (For publication.)
Wibbledom Enquirer.

Dear Sir/Madam,

       I am writing to end continuing speculation within the village on my self imposed social isolation.

       Your readers, many of whom know me, will be aware that I have become a recluse who actively avoids social contact.   I find myself in a Catch-22 situation, for when I do come face to face with locals, I am always asked why I haven't been seen around for a while.   The catch is that the aspect of my character that compels me to solitude also seems to preclude me from giving them a satisfactory answer, so I hope this letter will satisfy the curiosity.

       By way of example I am half-minded to explain myself by describing an encounter that I had recently. On this occasion I found myself unable to decline an offer of afternoon tea and scones with a well respected local lady who seemed genuinely concerned for my state of mind.

       I cannot go into detail, since I would feel obliged to be less than truthful and alter details to save embarrassment to those involved, and such deceit is against my nature.   For instance I would use, say, the name Sylvia instead of Virginia and the term 'sister' in place of 'daughter'.  Further, the event did not take place in the Vestry, and I can only suggest that any unexplained stains on the maroon carpet are likely due to the activity of the vicar's excitable pet Spaniel.

       I hope this clarifies the matter and satisfies those who might be concerned for my well being, or the safety of the local community.

Respectfully yours,

Stanley J Gleaning-Oldschool

Daze of the Weak:  No. 56

Wednesday afternoon

Last night I was dreaming about the world economy. It doesn't seem to work in a logical way.

Some people make things, like ladies in India sewing cotton. They work fourteen hours a day and can't afford makeup or medicine. They shit in a hole in the ground.

Then some people don't make things at all but just shuffle stuff around. City Bankers and Stock Dealers for example. They just shuffle paper mostly. These ones live in million pound houses and buy silicon body enhancements and spend months in the sun on big boats. They have all the things other people make and shit on marble thrones.

I did an experiment this morning.
I didn't make anything, not even a cup of tea!
First I shuffled everything in my cupboards around. Then I shuffled the newspaper so all the page numbers were mixed up. When I had shuffled a deck of cards and all my books I couldn't think of anything else to shuffle so I sat down.

I'm still waiting, but I don't feel any wealthier.

Still, at least I still shit on porcelain

Daze of the Weak:  No. 55


I argued with myself in my sleep last night.
It was about how I haven't written anything down for ages.
I told me it was laziness, but I disagreed.
I explained it's because I've lost inspiration.
I said that if I made an effort inspiration would come.
I retorted that I had made lots of efforts but all I ever managed was to recycle old thoughts that I'd written down years ago.
I got irritated when I said recycling was good and had to point out it's only good when it saves the worlds resources, not when it clutters the world up with even more junk.
That shut me up!

I shall avoid me in the future. I hate a smart arse!

Daze of the Weak:  No. 54


I think it was yesterday that I woke up very worried about the state of my memory.
I'm getting bad at remembering the right things at the right time.
On the other hand I'm very good at remembering things at the wrong time and I'm also good at remembering the wrong things at the right time.

Actually, come to think about it, two out of three isn't bad.

Daze of the Weak:  No. 53

Saturday, I think.

These are truly strange times.
I have had many listless days and many sleepless nights.
In fact I had to spend all yesterday recuperating from an extended bout of inactivity.

Yes, truly strange! The day went exactly to plan but I still could not shrug off the feeling I had not achieved anything...

Conversations:  No. 114

I'm amazed by your self confidence. You strut around as if you're the master of the Universe!

Well I don't pretend to know all the answers.

Oh, is that so?

What's your point?

The point is you act as if you do.

Who's acting? Like I just said, I don't pretend.

Daze of the Weak:  No. 52

Saturday 5pm.

Today I remembered two things.

When the internet was quite new I read that it was going to be a wonderful business opportunity.
I also remember doing a Yahoo search on the word "haemorrhoid".
The results page had a big advert in the top left corner. It said "BUY YOUR HAEMERRHOIDS on AMAZON." and In the top right corner was another advert that said "SELL YOUR HAEMERRHOIDS on E-BAY."

If only I had put two and two together and become a middle man I would be a billionaire by now.