Sunday, 6 September 2015

A day in the Life of King Street

I have been busy again today with one thing and another so as a cunning plan I have decided to post one of the more popular posts of recent times, in order to try and recover some interest in my humble blog. . . I mean I draw pictures and there is not an advert in sight here, this is a visitor friendly blog, unlike my house where I would probably shout at you and set the cats on you. Not that I'm a nasty chap but no one wants strangers turning up at your front door smiling and being nice, its just plain suspicious so best just to show them who is boss. Which here is probably the cats as it happens, they even attack me when I turn up unexpected.

Anyway back to the post, this was a popular post written in a haphazard way while I was struggling with writers block. I write much of my blog on the cuff so to speak (a saying that appears to be gibberish if you ask me) and writing is as far as I'm concerned the only way to get through writers block. I know it seems odd but it is not. As for writing popular posts well I try but I feel I may be slightly doomed although having said that it tends to be the slightly odd ones that end up popular so I get rather confused. Maybe folk are out to get me just because I set the cats on them and they have to run for their lives.  So here it is another repeated post

A Day in the Life of King Street

George had moved to King Street because of his obsession with all things connected with space and aliens, in fact it was this obsession that led to him painting his wife Mavis green. She did not object too much although she did say later that she would have preferred to have been warned in advance rather than wake up in the morning covered in green paint.  George himself said that he had never entirely understood Mavis and by painting her green she made a very good Martian, and he was working on a Martian Phrase book. Although Mavis was convinced she was speaking English and told George that everyone else understood her perfectly well.

It was rather ironic then that several weeks later George received a text message from Mavis to tell him she had been abducted by humans who were planning to do terrible experiments on her.  In reality she had run off with Mr Clark the librarian to Spain because the stress of being a Martian had become to much and as she told Mr Clark, George was completely mad.

Several houses along King Street at No24 lived Harold Beckman famous as the first British man in space, who spent several weeks on the International Space Station until the accident where he uttered those famed words HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM. . . . AGAIN?  Since then Harold always kept a small can of oil about his person and insisted that his door hinges were oiled once a week.  As he told the postman on many occasions as he oiled the hinges of his front door . . . NOBODY WANTS A SQUEAKY DOOR ON THE AIR LOCK. . .  He often referred to the front porch as the air lock. It was his four days trapped in the airlock of the International Space Station that had brought this way of thinking about, and his early retirement was finally thought for the best after he started to wrap his head in Kitchen foil and was found oiling the wrong end of the cat.

After Mavis was abducted (ran off) George spent many hours discussing this with Harold who said the Aliens were everywhere sabotaging all the critical doors around the world so that one day when they invaded folk would find they were immobilized by jammed doors making mankind useless and unable to defend themselves.

Their friendship however came to an abrupt halt when a young assistant at Boots the Chemist handed over some photographs he had developed for Mr Harold Beckman of them (George and Harold) both dressed as Penguins in a state of arousal. It was a great scoop for the local press but not so good for Harold, George or the assistant at Boots the Chemist who was sacked for breach of confidentiality.  Harold kept his front door locked after that and George ran off to Spain to escape from sniggering neighbours, where he found Mavis working in a tapas bar. She told George that her mind had been wiped by men in white coats so she had forgotten about him. They got back together after a bit and are now often seen scampering along the Spanish beaches wearing Penguin suits and giggling.


  1. Replies
    1. Sadly they have not paid me for the mention of their chain of stores, even a free tube of toothpaste would have been nice.

  2. Heehee, the ending still makes me chuckle like a demented Hyena.

    1. Thanks Miss Lily . . . . I am not sure where all the folk have got too? its quiet in cyberspace. . . . . . toooooo quiet