Signs of the End Times

“Endless” drought burns forest like kindling.

10 becomes 8, the Super Soldier has family commitments and the Vampire Queen has “Interviewitis”. The remain 8 brave souls part like the Red Sea into 2 teams for the Great Red Dragon bowling challenge.

Team A – Your author, the Major, Fenian O’Loftladder and Andreas Choirimeri.

Team B – The Flame Haired Temptress, Kernal Flapjack, The Sotch Giant and the The Archduke Franz.


Bird flu outbreak the next step towards a new plague.

Bayswater, where the devil is Bayswater, why aren’t we going to Holborn.

Clearly the Archduke has played the game before, I would not say that he is a hustler, but…

We had a secluded spot to the side of the Bayswater AllStar Lanes. Once Porter had corrected his name. It had mistakenly read Peter, but Porter soon put that right.

Thousands of starving sea lions mysteriously displaced

I will not dwell for too long on the scores. The Archduke was good, others not so and your author followed up his triumph on BoB with a performance of equal stature.



The Altar of the Lord rebuilt in Jerusalem

Eat Drink Bowl or more properly Drink Bowl Eat or in the case of the Major drinking out of bowl. Mrs Major may let him do that at home, but not on our watch.

An aside – sat next to each other on the tube the Archduke looked like the Major’s carer, or a father out with his slightly simple son. I’m sure I heard the Archduke tell a woman at one point that the Major was “a big lad, yes it’s sad isn’t it, but he’s very gentle and wouldn’t hurt a fly”. Not a fly I thought, but a woman or a sausage, maybe.

Six of us went for the starter and main course combo, the Scotch Giant went for the main and dessert pairing to no ones surprise Kernel Flapjack went for dessert and dessert.

There was also the offer of a cocktail, the Archduke went for a Shirley Temple, while Fenian O’Loftladder went for a Seamus Heaney (a pint of Guinness with a spud in it).

Microchip implants. The Mark of the Beast?

The train pulls slowly into Bayswater station, a sharpened nail flashes and aortal bloods sprays across the platform. people scatter in panic, the Flame Haired Temptress wipes the blood from her hands. “That’s my seat” she thinks


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