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January | 2015 | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/2015/01
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. January 23, 2015. I strip for sleep. I close my eyes. Not minded to release. From its conscious tease. In the sticky warm. And silence the alarm. I close my eyes. My mind not minded. From its unconscious ease. Arrive together. Leave apart. January 20, 2015. January 20, 2015. These words of contrition. My fingers crossed behind my back. My smile leering and penance free). A glass or two to loosen my thoughts. For all to hear clearly. For all to see.
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MY BRAIN HURTS MISTER GUMBY! | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/2015/08/19/my-brain-hurts-mister-gumby
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. MY BRAIN HURTS MISTER GUMBY! August 19, 2015. August 19, 2015. Last night I spent hours, glass of wine in hand, exploring the causes of my aches and pains on WebMd. My wife sat watching TV, glued to catch up episodes of Casualty, and tutted. She doesn’t approve of my hypochondria. Anyhoo. According to WebMd, I’m dead. Stone cold dead. An ex Tricksy. But, as it’s me typing this morning meander, clearly I’m not. My wife dismisses my aches and pains as.
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October | 2014 | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/2014/10
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. Part one of many parts. One a week until I stop. For Bubbles. October 31, 2014. James and the Giant Spot. Chapter 1. Trevor the Superstar Spot. Toffee looked skulky. She sat on the back step and carefully preened herself. ‘Breckie’ she thought. In cat, of course. It started with a kiss. A yucky kiss. A mummy morning kiss. Then I spotted a spotty spot. I’ve never had a spot to call my own.’. A big, juicy, ripe for picking spot. I’m going to call ...
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Mother Nature changes her dress | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/2015/08/18/mother-nature-changes-her-dress
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. Mother Nature changes her dress. August 18, 2015. August 19, 2015. I cycled to work. A tired, sweaty MAMIL (beard in particular). I’ll have a coffee before I shower. A sweaty MAMIL needs a morning coffee. It’s reward for the senseless pain and needless exercise. I scribbled the following on twitter before I set off. Beneath the old brick bridge near King’s Lock, a polish tramp berates my passing, his sleepy head emerging from a crumpled sleepi...
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godistricksy | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/author/godistricksy
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. Do the Aussie Mashed Potato. October 22, 2016. My daughter’s in Oz. And she’s pissed off. Because they don’t. Do mashed potato in Oz. Before I turn into. A frog in a sock,. And give my daughter. Some mashed potato love. Waiting for another bomb. October 6, 2016. October 6, 2016. Huddled up in winter. Squished into a summer seat,. Vacuous eyes looking down Rainey Street,. Watching cars go round and round. The rain soaked diamond roundabout. Noble, br...
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July | 2015 | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/2015/07
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. Grandad and Caterpillar Soup. July 27, 2015. July 27, 2015. It was a room of cloying Granny hugs and cheek pinching aunties wiping away big sobbing tears. It was the best room and on the large pine table Granddad lay still, tucked into his satin lined oak box quiet dead in his Sunday best bib and tucker. I was lifted high for my peek. 8220;Give the lad a look! Uncles chatted softly and I was the subject of too much Uncly head patting. His coffin was...
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Lunchtime Melancholia and Trevor | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/2015/08/19/lunchtime-melancholia-and-trevor
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. Lunchtime Melancholia and Trevor. August 19, 2015. August 19, 2015. This old melancholia is starting to get the better of me. I say ‘old’ because this particular bout of melancholia started when I was about sixteen and has been a pervasive part of my life for a long time now. Today has been a particularly melancholicesque day. I used to patronise a particular restaurant at lunchtime. Nice food, quiet, clean, quiet. Did I say quiet? That’s Trev...
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Much Squeaky Self-Congratulation | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/2015/08/12/much-squeaky-self-congratulation
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. August 12, 2015. Oh Kizz…Next stop Madagascar! This is where I’m missing twitter: the chance to just quickly blow my own trumpet in a world full of other socially misaligned hermits. You may consider yourself honorary hermits for the duration of this post. Aren’t you chuffed? Anyhoo, to quote a great man. I Have Survived Tradesmen! And I’ve not hidden in my room. The World Congress of Emptiness. How meteors almost saved the Welsh rural Post Office.
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March | 2015 | The world according to Godistricksy
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/2015/03
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. FP Pills and car keys. March 13, 2015. The kids poured whatever prescription drugs they could find into a bowl. Lucky dip! They were feeling lucky. On the other side of town, their mums and dads threw car keys into a bowl. Lucky dip! They were feeling lucky too! FRIDAY Phrases 6th March 21015. March 7, 2015. March 7, 2015. I am passionate about Friday Phrases. This week courtesy of @mulrune we had. I am only human. I am only human. In place of gaiety.
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The world according to Godistricksy | stuff wot I wrote | Page 2
https://godistricksy.wordpress.com/page/2
The world according to Godistricksy. Stuff wot I wrote. August 8, 2016. This ripping little yarn was first posted to ‘200 Word Tuesdays’. Without the constraints of 200 words, I’ve reworked it a little. He was just a little boy. Lost in the desert. Clinging to life. In the distance, hazed and bubbling in the midday sun, he saw shimmering buildings of glass and gold. He started walking towards them. His walking companions: a punishing sun and silence. He heard a voice. Asked the boy nervously. Cackled the...