Last week my bisexual wombat left me.
WOMB: It’s not you, it’s meat.
WOMB: I have to be around more succulence. You do not satisfy my succulence needs.
ME: I can change.
WOMB: I’m afraid it’s not going to happen. I need to be with a lover who is on hand with pork chops, lamb cutlets, chippolatas and veal slabs at the click of a whisk.
ME: You carnivorous pustule.
WOMB: Insult me all you like, honey. Come Monday, I’m outta here.
ME: Please, let’s discuss this.
Last week I lost an opportunity to have an interesting conversation with a PERSON.
PERSON: So, I’d better be going then.
ME: I’ll come with you.
PERSON: Umm . . . OK.
ME: So how have you been?
PERSON: How have I been what?
ME: You, your general wellbeing. What state are you in?
PERSON: Why, are you a doctor or something?
ME: No, just wondering.
PERSON: Actually, I think I’m going to go this way.
ME: OK, see you later!
PERSON: Don’t think so.
Last week I was interviewed by The Right Side of My Brain:
TRSOMB: What have you been doing apart from the surreal blog bullshit?
ME: I have been writing various stories and submitting to various publications.
TRSOMB: Wow, what an incredibly boring life you have.
TRSOMB: Is that it? Do you ever get any pussy?
TRSOMB: Wow. What a chump. I mean, even David Shields gets laid from time to time, and he’s balder than a peanut.
ME: Yes, his hairlessness does render him somewhat sexless.
TRSOMB: So go on then, tell us what you’ve been writing.
ME: I have been writing an action-adventure lipogram based around an evil race of word-munching Pacmen.
TRSOMB: Right. And you think that’s going to win you the Pulitzer, do you?
ME: Suppose not. What would you prefer I wrote about?
TRSOMB: Things we care about.
ME: What things?
TRSOMB: Like what’s happening on the planet right here, right now. The state of the world as it limps from recession, from war – the crumbling edifice of democracy. That stuff.
ME: Piss off.
TRSOMB: Well, don’t blame us if you never get to boogie with Zadie Smith at Bloomsbury.
ME: Ha ha.
TRSOMB: Thank you for talking with us, Harold.
ME: It’s Mark.
TRSOMB: We don’t care.