THE STORY OF MY CAREER
I told my father that I wanted to be a factory production line worker. He said, “tell your mother” ... from the phone in the job centre which is next door to the betting shop.
I, as instructed, told my mother. She said, rather harshly, from the phone in the mental health centre, “Tell your father!”
I gave up parent stuff and did it myself. I went out ever so determined and landed my dream job, putting wheels on cars. I like the air powered spanner thing, it goes ‘Vweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!’
One Saturday afternoon soon after I started graveyard shifts my parents pulled me aside as I stumbled into the house physically exhausted (I’m small and those wheels are bloooody heavy). They told me that they weren’t happy with my career choice in the present economic climate (my mother liked to watch the news as she drank shorts because of the Dow Jones Index thing which stressed her) and how I should have ‘stuck in’ at school like they did do and got a better job, and that they would prefer it if I was a writer/storyteller and stuff the production line crap as it was far far too uncertain.
I replied, ‘but parents, writing is so uncertain especially in uncertain car plants and those wheel things you can stand on are the next big thing, so, sod writing, I fancy putting bodies on wheels and soon the M1 and M6 will be full of them all speeding along at over 100 miles per hour’. They told me I was insane, mad, crackers, duhhh duhhhh and a lunatic and what would NORMAL people say?! ... Especially as I didn’t know my kilometers and expressed them in ancient miles per hour ... and that I should stick to writing and stop the silly, stuuuupid! Pathetic, laaa laaa head in the clouds talk about factory production line work and silly ‘wheel things’ people with too much money like to buy, or I would never be able to receive stacks of cash to pay the bills and my housekeeping beer and betting money to them and have hundreds put aside for a rainy day because of the ridiculous cost of living. I then said, ok, I’ll pack the factory work in and write and sell books; I would give in to the moral working class social demands of having a proper job and it didn’t matter if it was mind numbingly boring, it was ‘money!’ and that’s what mattered!
They then glared at me and told me that apart from not believing me which they never ever had because I was stuuupiiiid! The real world was an extremely harshy warshy place and they were dead against me getting a car with FOUR wheels although I would be great at changing flat tyres and wouldn’t need the RAC thank God because the membership was too dear. They also asked if I would like an appointment with a nice, sensible doctor they both knew through friends who attended the public health clinics, who would give me something to make me happier and calm me at the same time FOR PITY’S SAKE!
I have to say that snuffing them both out at the same time with two pillows was, apart from an act of love very difficult because I could only concentrate on one arm at at once. I tried and tried pressing hard and concentrating ‘ZEN’ hard with the left hand over my mother’s face which was actually behind the pillow. But the strength vacated my ignored stronger right hand and arm and my father kept pushing the pillow off his face. However I eventually managed my inspired mission by again ZENLY meditating there and then and melding both parts of my mind together as one which evened out the pressure differential (an engineer maybe?!) and now I’m on benefits and am peaceful (economy beans-ville) ... and I feed squirrels in the city to chill. However, I do write to pay the bills, so please buy a book, as at some point as I really have to bury those people and it is really expensive.
By the way, good news! My beautiful parents are on holiday in the tropics with Bear Grylls and I just the other day got a text from him saying they had both been fatally bitten by a deadly Rock Cobra by some rocks by a river. They had been wrinkly skinny dipping and he had buried them in a secret location, he couldn’t remember where. Unfortunate, but I shall report it to the police. I shall text Bear back and thank him for my alibi.
‘Good old Bear!’ That’s what I’d like to say.
Where to find Frankie Lassut online
Eggbertina Presents: Roger, the Talking Vibrator
EggROTIC stories from my telepathic friend, Eggbertina, the ostrich love egg.
Starts with her dictation from Roger, a talking vibrator, and finishes with Swiss watches, just after God tries to patent sex.
There’s a great game too from Orgasmo-Corp (International DSS Jobseekers Newstart, Gateway, Global Multinational Corporation), which ladies might like to play at home?
The Hidden History of Robin Hood and his Merrie Men
Blimey. And you thought they robbed the rich and gave it to the poor?
Mind you, they didn’t actually get on very well with the sherriff, but still, they had a really good time when they pooled their various talents.
Marian? She had a ‘really’ good time. Now has a new fun 'evil' section on witchcraft ...
Where There's a Will...
This is the revised and updated version of A Flower in the Attic.
It consists of two horror stories, and two sort of fantasy/mystery stories, both inspired by small events. I hope you enjoy them.
Where there’s a will deals with a troublesome mother. Warm your cockles deals with growing cockles, and dangerous animals. A Nice Romantic Man? I hope you enjoy a good love story.
Satan’s not a bad guy, it’s what he feeds on that’s the problem for humans.
Humans though are so entrenched with beliefs that have been fed to them (and boy do they believe ‘anything’), that Satan appears to be the ultimate bad guy. What though if Satan is neutral, and just likes eating? What if the food supply is a non phys ...
Quiet self time is liquid gold time, it is so very precious.
No quiet time, and noise prevails inside the human, and that’s the invite to madness, and in many cases, the doorway to the world of therapy. It’s not enough for sleep to be the only escape from an increasingly insane world.
Silence is golden.
Silence is our true nature.
Mr Splish Splosh and the Silly People
Revenge is designed to make you feel better when you’re angry; it’s one of the rungs on the ladder back to feeling good when you find yourself emotionally somewhere where you don’t want to be. Feeling ‘better’ in a positive fashion is cool, better than being in a negative state, where relief is then necessary for you to get back to positive land.
The Cleaning Lady and The Crystal Bell
Most people work hard, which in most cases is an activity they don’t ‘choose’, to get money to do an activity they do choose, such as a holiday, or a Johnny Robinson Concert (Johnny Robinson Rocks!).
Work is seen as a necessity, which most people do grudgingly, but they still do it to the best of their abilities if only to avoid a rollocking, or the sack?
The Return of the Pied Piper
I finish work for a few days, and get scared because I then didn’t have anyone to think for me. I go up North, but break down on the motorway. I am going to have to pay for a tow or a repair, but my credit card overhears and doesn’t like what it overhears.
Why am I going anyway? My mother just spends a couple of days nagging me. Join me on my strange adventure.
One Year in Tibet
Fifteen minutes a day training the mind to work at optimum level? I fancy a bit of that. I thought, 'who are the Masters' at this? The Tibetan monks of course. I thought, I'll go there and do the job properly. Peace for twelve whole months! Just me, in a cave, no hassle! Perfect!
Oh, I do like to be beside the sea-side
A lot of people think that people in mental health asylums are there because they have gone mad for some reason, and are therefore locked up to keep them out of so called ‘normal society'. That isn’t quite right; they are there because normal society has driven them mad, and they are actually just downsizing.
The Penis Monologues
The Vagina Monologues have been around now for a long time, so, it's time the lads had a shot.
It's very difficult being a man, to gather research from men, for this topic i.e. "Hello mate, what does Your 'thingy' smell like?"
It will be interesting to see what kind of an audience this gets.
Bonfire Night at the Old Country Manor
A short story in a style called 'Adulchi' for parents to read with thier young children or for older children to read by themselves.
The story covers the Bonfire Night party that happens on November the 5th each year in England
at an old country manor. The resident animals enjoy thier own party in thier own way.
Mind Shift, The Beautiful Art of Inn - vention
INN Ventions are inventions that have been devised in the surroundings of a pub somewhere. There are some really good ones in this collection, one or two that make the marketplace, and even the easy formula inventors use ... ‘and’ a guaranteed way of receiving money both without working, or trying.
The Chuckling Crab
The tantalising story of the Ghost Town's (Coventry) brilliant specialised seafood restaurant, which was made to sparkle by Nim Chana, an alien. The restaurant was a legend in its own lifetime.
Mouth wateringly funny!
Erotic Distraction No1 Nessum Dorma
Erotic books all have the same theme, obviously; and the same end. This one deals with the eroticism embedded in Britain's Got Talent, and features a new sex toy invention.
The real life sequel to the Tales from the NHSS.
If your life is empty, uninteresting and funless?
Then develop hypertension and heart failure and attract some zesty excitement.
A true account from the wrong side of the canulae.
A personal empowement book dealing with the aptly named 'mean-time'.
The Law of Attraction sets desire into manifestation but this takes time, and most hate the aptly named 'mean' time ... to their utter dissapointment ... but, remembering how to use this meantime to appreciate rather than to hate it.
Remembering how to appreciate household chores, and realising the power they hold that can benefit your life.
Yorkshire Pudding and Gravey
The author (me), takes a trip through Yorkshire, passing through Harrogate. He(I)stops, goes to a pub to refresh, meets a local, who then begins to tell him stories about deepest rural Yorkshire. You won't believe them; I don't, and I wrote it.
Frankie, a past inhabitor of the Lake District in England gives a rather different view, and a way of coping with the omnipresent sheep key rings, ice cream van queues and pieces of slate with barometers set in them and models of people climbing them.
Love & Light
Two short love stories. Ideal to read whilst commuting gauranteed to soften the heart and make you smile.
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