A Pandemic Story - Add your bit

his mothers Home Shopping Network addiction. The old woman would sit in the basement and cackle as she ran her fingers over all the Suzanne Somers, Victoria Wieck, Gems en Vogue and Colleen Lopez gems her son Carlos had swindled others to buy for her. The old woman refused to leave the basement and if the grandchildren came down the stairs she would scoop all of the jewelry boxes under her voluminous skirt and then plant that Technicolor baboon butt over the entire pile and cackle softly but with a deadly intent that the grandchildren..

wouldn't notice she was a bit inebriated. But wait, The Dr. Ruth of A2k (heretofore known as DRA) was spewing (not just his opinion but a LOT of verboten spittle) at Tucker's audacious question....

but yet, but yet, oh sweet Tulip blooms ...................he idolized Tucker, he wanted to date Tucker and Tucker wanted to date him...........Alas, tragically, DRA was a poor as a church mouse (I really don't know what that means, but I recall my grandmother saying something like that) or should I say he didn't have a pot to pi$$ in..............Tucker was enchanted as much as that stunted adolescent piss-ant can be enchanted, but DRA had no money.....oh well....so the old woman staggered up the stairs with that bottle of Jaegar that Carlos purloined from her, that miserable old bag hoisted the jaegar up to her lips and a frigging dust bunny plopped into her mouth..she gagged and spit it out, well she tried to spit it out but all the fluff stuck to the roof of her mouth and Carlos

...thinking about Carlos, she wondered why she was trying to drink that ****-head, dry-as-dust Jager when she had a whole (okay, not QUITE whole, but SOME) bottle of Chard downstairs. Heartened, she returned to her overstuffed chair, wine, now melting ice and grime-encrusted 2 cup measuring cup and thought how she could get Doug (yes, she'd decided, finally on him) to come over and...

swindle Carlos, the happy booze hound, who would believe she really purchased an Almond Joy candy bar for him and him alone. She chuckled over his naïveté but suddenly realized she had better pony up that candy bar before his nightmare of a mother

... came to the conclusion that, while there's nothing like a dame, she just plain didn't give a damn.

Meanwhile, Carlos felt along the baseboards, searching for the switch to open the secret passage. He managed to get it open, where he found....

a can of WD-40. Someone had been lubricating the hinges, which was very thoughtful, and Carlos grinned broadly because that meant he could cross one more thing off of his to-do list. He caught a whiff of something familiar, something that reminded him of Brill-cream, Jaegar and Crayola all mixed together. His mind wandered back to the days of cleaning pools and tweezing splinters and such. A bright flash of light either ultra-violet or another powerful light could be

what caused his sudden excruciating headache. Agh! He put his hands over his eyes, and then his ears, for suddenly there was an ear-splitting demonic screech coming from behind him. He turned around and stumbled back the way he came, hunched over like an 80-year old with severe osteoarthritis. He decided, then and there (as best he could in his debilitating state), to never return to this horror show again. He'd send his brother over with the booze he had stolen accompanied by an Almond Joy and a note saying...

Arse not on fire?

Visit Lord Harpole Abdul Latif’s Rupali Restaurant Newcastle upon Tyne.

A commercial break was exactly what Carlos needed.

Since he knew his Crayola employer was allergic to nuts, he secretly ground up an Almond Joy for her, to slip into her haggis. No one would ever have to be the wiser, except...

for possibly Doug........that miserable muscular Adonis wanna-be......Carlos hated Doug with a furious white hot flaming anger that could melt the entire continent of Antarctica, but honestly that's not really such a big deal anymore since global warming/climate change had already decimated most of it. Carlos begin to idly worry about the polar bears and penguins, but his musings were rudely

disturbed the ringing in his ears and the watering of his eyes. He yanked open the door and made his escape. He had wobbled half-way home when he and his bicycle were hit by a ...

Frozen cod. "Will this nightmare never end?" he began to wonder, as he was soundly thrashed about his head and shoulders.

"Apparently not soon enough", he moans to himself. If only he hadn't gotten involve with that she-witch with the sauna. He wondered how to extricate himself from this escalating soap opera. When the thugs left, he picked up his broken bike and ...

And in a pitiful plaintive voice he whimpered "what do you want from me God? Am I supposed to open a sushi bar?". In a fit of pique he bellowed "but I hate sushi", and

.. . there was a clap of thunder.

"Well, I guess that settles that. "

Just as he started thinking about what he needed to do to get a loan from the government (sleep with Ted Cruz), he started writing....

Inside the house, Christine (yes, she finally has a name, how remiss of me) finished off her cheap chardonnay and sprawled on her sofa, a little tipsy. She picked up the remote to watch her secret show, the Bachelor. Surprisingly, he had recently come out of the closet so she wondered who would be in the running. To her shock, one of the contestants was Ricardo! Ricardo, who ...

walked in appearing in his plumber pants and tool belt holding a pair of large gold tweezers. Her heart began to flutter and then she realized she forgot to take the cardura..................damn, Beulah had forgotten to include it in her meds this morning......Christine punched the intercom button and purred 'Beulah'......Yes Ms. Christine? Beulah answered ........Christine said "Beulah, peel me a grape" and the two laughed, and laughed and laughed so hard they almost soiled themselves.....aaaaaaahhhhh that old joke never failed to set them into a fit of

Stamp collecting.

Would the elusive Penny Black finally show its face, or would it be another case getting something lanced round the back of the pig sheds?

Something didn’t smell right.

Gackkkkkkk, she forgot about the partially frozen eels, she held them against her temple so long they had decomposed and now her entire head reeked like an outhouse in the Arizona dessert. But in a curious way, the fragrance was enchanting and summoned up memories of Sarah Palin and Ted Nugent. If distilled and sold as a perfume it could be called "Filthy Crazy Pants", hmmmmmm but would it really catch