Frankie Lassut

The Tomb and Its Collection of Arty Facts (eBook, ePUB)

• Format: ePub

Produktbeschreibung

I don't like write ups because they can give the story away and I don't want to do that.
The Tomb is about a tomb. Powder puff is based on talcum powder.
Bitch Killer is about a rat who's been hurt but finds gainful employment through it.
The Grandfather Clock is about a Grandfather clock.
This Time Around is just too good to give anything away about it. If you read it, you'll want to tell the world about it and I'll love you forever. I may invite you around for tea. I've actually heard that you'll soon be able to get a computer app called e-meals. It, through a projector, puts a very realistic picture of your meal on the table and you eat it. There is an app with it called taste and texture which simulates both. Not only can you imagine that you are eating the grub, but you'll feel full afterwards. Sounds good eh? You wait until e-nookie comes out. It takes all the risk out of chatting up. You say "would you like a drink?" ... "she says: "No thanks."
You reply: "I've just saved two quid 'and' I have e-nookie!"
Go home, turn it on, put on the head set ... Marvellous!

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Produktdetails

• Verlag: Frankie Lassut
• Erscheinungstermin: 12. August 2018
• Englisch
• ISBN-13: 9780463023693
• Artikelnr.: 53676314

Autorenporträt

I am the one being shaved; the other one Nim, is is a looney bin now!
I went to see a psychic years ago who ended up as my girlfriend; she didn't see that one coming! But she was extremely honoured. However it ended badly i.e. it rained heavily as I buried her body and I got soaked. No! You don't really want to hear about it, it's depressing; I was joking about the burial. She told me that I was to uncover a talent I had ... Well, another psychic told me that as the first one was dead; I was lying when I said I was lying. Nothing happened for quite a while. Suddenly I realised I needed a 'job' quite badly as I was beginning to drink halves. No, not a boob 'job'! I went for the cheap option i.e. the surgeon gave some socks to shove up my jumper when I go out. I got a 'job' (have you got boobs on your mind?) because someone told me that bus-driving was easy because you just sit on your butt and turn the wheel. She was about six, a wise woman ... that's called an oxymoron. Fantastic! I thought get the job and in a couple of days I'd be driving all the nice passengers around and about seeing all the sights for a fraction of the cost of a tour bus; and we'd have a roof in case it rained. Easy! First of all though there was the training; and I entered hell.

I was born in Cumbria in a little ex-iron ore mining town called Millom. It was only small, a one- horse town; the horse was called Peg. It had a pedigree name too, but I can't remember it at the moment: Peggy Suss? However, I got fed up and left as I was the only man in a town full of women and they were all lesbys; I've always been lucky. I went to Blackpool and attended the photographic college. I then moved to Coventry and met the psychic who would tell me what was going to happen. I could say now that the rest is history. Well it is, but obviously not history as that's all made up anyway. Then I got the job bus-driving, which as I said is easy 'you just sit on your butt and turn the wheel'. The bus station management weren't pleased that she had said that though, so she was tried and sent to Guantanamo Bay; they have a section for young kids who are bad to the bone.

The job was so mad that I thought it would be a good idea to write out some posters and stick them all on the wall of the bus station. The other drivers enjoyed them, but the management tore them down, the badstars (that's an anagram of astards +B). I carried on and ended up with a manuscript for a book, which, by ...