Skip to content


While I work on the next episode of The 100 Runes of Mystor and The Scotsmonauts, I thought I’d share another one of my lack of talents, drawing. I can’t really draw at all but I’ve got all the drawing gear you can shake a stick at. Pastel pencils, Prismacolor pencils, watercolor markers, watercolor pencils, acrylics and oils, I’ve got the lot. However, one thing lacking is talent. When I see what some artists can do I just shrink into a dark alley and hide. Anyway, you can’t be good at everything so…….. here’s Maisie. I drew her using a pigma micron 0.25mm pen. We lost our first cat Spike suddenly, which caused great angst as she’d been our little princess for 9 years. We put off replacing her as she was unique. However, we eventually relented and brought Maisie from the Cat Protection League, to our home. It’s taken a while but she’s settling in well. 


The Runes of Mystor

      Delsus stretched out his finger and touched the orb. In doing so he destroyed the world of Mystor, and, as a consequence, ruined the story I was going to tell you, ‘The 100 Runes of Mystor’. In stretching out his spindly grey stick like appendage, he messed up my chance to tell you about the 100 Runeholders who held together the fabric of Mystor. Chosen apparently at random by unknown method. The Runeholders brought order across the solar system. Where there was chaos they brought order, intelligence where there was stupidity, valor where there was cowardice, strength where there was weakness.
      Delsus’s antics make it seem churlish to tell the valiant stories of courage which had shaped Mystor until this moment, when a planets history and a trillion stories disappeared in an ironically beautiful blue flash of light. 

Map of North Mystor

Map of North Mystor

 Stories about great characters such as Belthra the Fisherman, who once caught a thousand fish in one afternoon, but, was really famed for defending the village of Senna against all odds for 3 days, using his great skill of confusion and trickery, sometimes tricking and confusing even himself. Or Rith, who, up until five minutes ago when Delsus touched the orb, had been the greatest Runeholder of all time. A brave genius who lived to look after the people, not himself, who’d travelled far, and sometimes wide to solve mysteries, battle enemies and fix sticking hinges on doors. 
 It hardly seems worth putting fingers to plastic squares, to tell you about the Valley of Rune and the Golden Sea of Tela, where Bacculus Fish floated like huge bloated airships in their migratory passage across Tela to their mating grounds. The Runeholders would gather here once a year or during times of stress to debate, drink, and save the world from danger. Only six months past on Mystor’s equivalent of a Wednesday, they’d met to discuss the increasing number of Runeholders who had been mysteriously killed or had disappeared in the previous 12 months. Although Runeholders lived longer than the other residents of Mystor, they were not immortal.   

 When a Runeholder ‘passed’, another resident of Mystor would wake on the morning after the full moons, to find he or she had been ‘chosen’. There was no letter, email or golden light at the bottom of the bed, but, the person chosen knew they were now somehow different and would now follow a great path from that moment on. Relatives, on finding one of their brethren had been given ‘the Gift’, would celebrate for three days, drinking copious amounts, after which the new Runeholder would travel to the Valley of Rune to learn their gift, and be doused in the Golden Sea of Tela, which served no purpose except to continue the old dictum of ‘well, that’s what we’ve always done………so…’
 So, there’s probably no point in telling you Mystor consisted of several different Ikar. Some were humanlike in their appearance, some were so scary looking. If sofas were something the Ikar of Mystor had, they’d have hid behind them. All Runeholders were chosen from each Ikar apart from one. Every story has to have an evil Ikar and the Dakar were just such an entity. Luckily, despite being the main reason for blood, death and gore over the centuries, the, possibly worth describing as ‘evil’ Dakar, kept themselves to themselves, except during the period of Mosun when they became idiots again, killing, pillaging and planting flags.
 Thinking about it, despite Delsus ruining the whole story for all of us, it is probably is worth summarising how we ended up at this end game. Let’s start with Eltra and Tarsum ( I would have used Bert and Angie as names but it just didn’t sound right ☺️) Eltra of the Talek Ilka had become Istar in the third premium of the Age of Haren ( i have no clue what that means but i’ve gone all Tolkien because i love him ☺️) They stood in the main Treehouse in Achar, a little village north of Eydehavn.
 ‘I feel a darkness around us Tarsum’
 ‘I have another candle…..just give me a second’
 ‘No……no……you know what i mean………a ‘darkness’ is among us on Mystor and the planets within our system’
 ‘I have more candles if that’ll help’
 ‘You’re such a buffoon Tarsum. I’m being serious. Something is not right. I can feel it. A twelvth sense* , a notion, a feeling, a sensation, a consciousness………a darkness is within us’
 * the inhabitants of Mystor had soon realised that having a sixth sense wasn’t quite the resolution they required. 
 ‘that’s a bit stereotypical is it not. History has many descriptions of many ‘darknesses’ coming upon us, which turned out to be generally just village arguments about Ikar robbing grobeks from other Ikar’
 ‘I know i love you Tarsum but you’re so stupid sometimes. Something is not right. Something is wrong. I know it’
 The next day Eltra discovered Boll of the Hark Ilya was found murdered…………….
 ‘We must herald a meeting of the Consternium. Immediately’
 ‘But, Eltra, this has not happened in two Ages’
 ‘I do not care how long it is. Boll is the fourth Runeholder to die or disappear in the space of six months. We are close to the time when i will step down and someone new will take over. Only one Runeholder has passed in all the time I have been Istar. Now we have four in six Ters. This is unprecedented…………………’

 ……………..on a planet far away
 ‘Once the Runeholders and their stupid planet is out of the way, we will take the other planets in the system, 🌎 kill the primitive inhabitants and take over the whole system.
 ‘Krystar, there is still hope we can retrieve the situation on our planet. Worst case we have another thousand years before we need to leave’
 ‘We cannot wait. We have the means to travel to the other planets. The only barrier to a new life for our desperate people are the Runeholders. If we stay here, whether it be a thousand years or ten thousand years, we and our people will die. Let’s make sure we ensure our contact on Mystor carries out his instructions………..’
 Delsus had been promised riches beyond his wildest dreams to destroy his home planet, with the promise of solitude and wealth on Meros, the 5th planet of the system. He would live out his days in peace, solitude and wealth. A price he was willing to pay for the loss of his family, friends, his species. He touched the orb……….. but…………nothing happened………….he touched the orb again………… again….Mystor did not explode into stardust………he hit it twice more……..
 ‘Keros’s mind sat in a pool of concentration. If he lost concentration for one second Mystor would be gone…..sweat dripped not only from his forehead, his armpits but several other orifices…..he had to prevent the explosion…….only he could hold it off ….until Rith arrived………’

Episode 1 β€˜The Runes of Mystor ’ was brought to you by David Linden and Dodo Productions Β© 2016 you can follow me on Twitter @qosfc1919

On The Street



I made this comic after reading this blog post by Wings Over Scotland about the bias and clear manipulation by the BBC during its BBCQT in Dundee. And before anyone gets upset or offended that I am using tired stereotypes, it was not my intention to demean anyone. I used a Native American simply because that is about as Dundonian as the people on the show. It’s a form of hyperbole. FT πŸ˜›

View original post

Dave’s Week -‘Ramon’Β 

           In a world that’s definitely lost the plot at the moment, I like to immerse myself in things that make me laugh, or go ”Woooh’. Going ‘Wooooh’ in a public place can raise a few eyebrows, especially my local library, but who cares, life’s too lacking in ‘Woooh’s’ πŸ™‚

           My first subject this week was the news that a Google driverless car was stopped in the USA for ‘going to slow’. Now, in America where even the speed limit for the Indianapolis 500 is 55mph, going too slow takes some doing. The policemans face when he sidled up to the car, tapped on the window, and said ‘Right, out of the car Sterling’ only to find a Google test driver asleep in the back (I exaggerate πŸ™ƒ ), must have been a picture. It reminded me of this……πŸ˜‚

“Google’s 23 self-driving cars have been involved in 14 minor traffic accidents on public roads,but Google maintains that in all cases the vehicle itself was not at fault because the cars were either being manually driven or the driver of another vehicle was at fault” 
              So, Google would have us believe that ALL the accidents involving the ‘driverless’ car were either because there was a human driver (what’s the point of that Googsy Baby? πŸ€” ) or another driver didn’t see a white bubble car with a large knob on the top coming hurtling along at 25mph! Yeah right πŸ™„



                   Now, I’m not a scaredy cat, but would you get in a car where the ‘driver’ had had 14 accidents during their driving career, and had no memory of them whatsover. 😬 Even better, the latest version of the car comes with no brakes or steering wheel. Given how often my Android apps crash, the odds on me sitting in a robotic car with no brakes are shortening by the second. I mean, if you’re going to be spending the entire journey crapping yourself in the back seat, I can’t see many volunteers. Especially when, at 25mph, the trip to Glasgow up the M74 will take most of November. ☺️

                    Google also stated the latest prototype had “not been tested in heavy rain or snow due to safety concerns”. 

                    Wait……news coming in that pre-orders sales in Scotland have just plummeted. πŸ€”


                  Apparently the cars rely on a combination of Google street view, google maps and sheer luck to get you home. The old Android computer cannot ‘obey temporary traffic lights’. It also has difficulty identifying when objects, such as trash and light debris, are harmless, causing the vehicle to veer unnecessarily. Additionally, the radar technology cannot spot potholes, nor discern when humans, such as a police officer, are signaling the car to stop.

 I can imagine a nice blue one happening by Celtic Park after a game as 50,000 Celtic fans spill on to the streets……..

 ‘Go go go ya stupid thing…….’ 

                 ‘I’m sorry. I did not understand that last command. This vehicle is currently either surrounded by humans, green and white potholes or a policeman’

                 Those of us who use Siri on the iphone, and fans of the comedy Burnistoun,  will already know the problems with American software trying to understand a Scots accent………….. πŸ˜‚.    

 I bet you’ve got the cheque book out already……

                 The notion of the British bumbling eccentric buffoon has been around for years. Many comedy films and tv series have placed a publicly educated stereotype in a starring role. Which neatly brings me to Boris Johnson…………this week the bungling eccentric MP, Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson (yes, that’s his real name πŸ™„ ) sparked outrage after mocking UK supporters of a trade boycott against Israel as ‘corduroy-jacketed, snaggletoothed, lefty academics’. This was just before he was due to spend five days touring Palestine. πŸ€” Not surprisingly, it wasn’t long before the Palestinians were on the blower telling our master of diplomacy…… ‘not to bother coming’

Boris forgets his shorts πŸ™‚


              It wouldn’t be so bad but it’s only a month ago he did this while playing non contact rugby with some little Japanese kids….  


              ……..and here’s our intrepid Boris ‘promoting Britain’ on a zipwire ☺️


              ……… or the time he ‘helped’ volunteers clear a stream….. πŸ€”


              I’m beginning to think the voters of Uxbridge are the same ones that vote to keep the two left footed dancer in Strictly………… ☺️

              If you follow my Twitter account (stop laughing 😑 ) you’ll know one of my hashtags is #ScientistsHaveComeOan  – well, this week Scientists have come on tae warn of the issues of eating too many Skittles or Smarties……..



They’ve also come oan tae warn women who drink too much Prosecco of a night out can end up struggling to find the way home……..


and lastly, in the week that Michael Flately confirmed he puts paint on his feet, dances on a canvas and sells his pictures for hundreds of thousands of pounds….others are starting to get in on the act…..


I hope, with all the bad news, I’ve put a smile on your face. Keep laughing. It’s good for you πŸ˜„

Dave’s Week – ‘Ramon’ was brought to you by David Linden and Dodo Productions Β© 2015 You can follow me on Twitter @qosfc1919 or email me at πŸ€—πŸ™ƒπŸ€”πŸ˜€

Dave’s Week – Ne pas parler franΓ§ais

Unless you’re Justin Bieber or one of those Billionaires Eamon Holmes and wotsername have been staning gawpy-eyed at on the telly over the last couple of weeks……..


Have some pride Eamon, it’s only a diamond encrusted 200 feet yacht πŸ™‚ 

………. the rest of us will spend the week doing mere mortal things such as ‘shopping at Tescos’, ‘planting Spring bulbs’and ‘watching documentaries about Eamon Holmes gawping at Billionaires’ 😊

To fill in the gaps between the heady excitement of my life, I’ve been  sifting through all the bad news to hunt for quaint or funny stories for you on the net. If you look far enough there’s always a titter to be had somewhere.

My first port of call this week, was the Aston villa dressing room (yes, another football story πŸ™„ ). For some strange reason Villa have been struggling at the wrong end of the Premiership table for some time. i think it’s something to do with not scoring as many goals as the opposition, and, having a defence that should be called VillaLeaks. In an unusual twist for struggling Premiership teams, despite having done this several times before with no improvement, they decided to sack their manager, Tim Sherwood.

          Hail the new saviour, Remi Garde. The 49yr old Frenchman won the French equivalent of the FA Cup and the French SuperCup with Lyon. He might actually be quite good. πŸ™‚

So, Remi comes in to the Villa dressing room and discovers, horror upon horror, that a chunk of his squad are…….wait for it……..FRENCH! ‘Zut Alors Que’st que se?’ Another unbelievable surprise clever Remi found, was the French quarter were speaking………now……I hope you’re sitting down……..FRENCH! Yes, they were actually speaking French to each other, despite all coming from France. The bold Remi decided the rest of the squad could not understand a word they were saying. This was obviously the reason Villa were bottom of the league. I mean, you can imagine the mayhem out on the pitch……..

‘Johnee, Johnee…..le ballon…….a moi…..’


‘Passeett Johnee……passeet’


All this confusion, by which time, Watford have run up the pitch and scored. 

So, what does the bold Remi do?. He bans them from speaking French. 


How he told his French proteges the bad news is unknown. Perhaps he ran two closed fingers across his pursed french lips, motivating his players to ‘’. However, apparently their english isn’t that hot, so….wind on to next weekend…..




‘Eh? Dunno wot u want mate’

Biggo Improvemento πŸ™‚

Anyway, it reminded me of an obvious solution to Remi’s problem…………

So who are Villa playing this Sunday……..Zut Alors…….it’s…..ehm………Manchester City.

News also emerged that swinging Austerity cuts are having a major effect on our Police Forces around the country. Devon and Cornwall Police Force have announced ‘they will no longer investigate restaurant diners who failed to pay for their meal, unless……wait for it…..there are signs of criminality’. Now. What are ‘signs of criminality’ ? Does this include wearing a mask and carrying a bag with SWAG written on it, or after munching a 3 course meal with wine, coffee and liquers, sneaking the entire family of five off to the toliets and doing a bunk through the frosted glass window. 


‘Hello, Is that Cornwall Police?’

‘Yes it is. How can I not help  you this evening’

‘Well, this is Rick Stein here. I’m afraid the entire restaurant of guests sneaked out without paying tonight’

‘I see Mr Stein. I just need to get some details from you. Now what is your location?’


‘your restaurant name?

‘The Seafood Restaurant’

‘thanks….now I have to ask you whether there were any signs of criminality?’

‘What do you mean ‘criminality’?’

‘Well, do you think there was any criminal intent on behalf of your customers?’

‘Of course there was, all 63 of them disappeared between 9 and 11pm….and not one paid for a freshly caught King Prawn never mind the Thai duck with orange’ 

‘I should point out Mr Stein our Police Force is stretched  beyond belief. Cornwall is rife with gang warlords and drug dealers. We don’t really have time to investigate cases where people may have just forgotten to pay for their meal’

‘What? ALL 63 of them?’

‘I’m sorry Mr Stein…..I’ll have to come back to after a word from our sponsors…….’


                   Yes, at least one Police Force is considering finding sponsors to refill the dwindling coffers. Chief Constable Olly Martins of Bedfordshire Police Force said he would not be against sponsors logos on police cars. He quoted one of the biggest employers in the area, EasyJet as being a potential suitor. I think this would be a marriage made in heaven. All police cars could change to luminous orange instead of green, police usually are always late and the call centres are unable to help you anway, especially if your diners have walked out without paying. 

                    We could have EasyArrest, where criminality minded diners who didn’t pay for their meal at Rick’s, are invited to turn up at their local police station and give themselves in. Those that do so would get airmiles………it just all so clicks together. The two bobbies left to patrol the crime stricken streets of Bedfordshire could have Easybikes, which fold up to go over rough terrain and their truncheons could be sponsored by WWF.  Police shoes sponsored by Doc Martens, Tasers sponsored by the South Eastern Electricity board. Surveillence could be carried out by EasyDrone , who would do a deal with Amazon to deliver parcels at the same time. The possibilities are endless……

            For us in Scotland winter brings its issues. Mainly potholes, poor Rural Broadband and Christmas parties. (sorry, i only introduced the Rural Broadband bit because i live ruralry and i have poor broadband ). However, in Sweden things are a bit more complicated. Stockholm has a mere 6 hours of daylight at winters hiatus. ‘The Local’, an online Swedish newspaper has come up with some ideas to help Swedes cope with the darkness.

                 Amongst the suggestions to help the Swedes through the dark days are the following:

Put Your Best Clothes On

The Local Team suggest Swedes will spend much of the winter bundled up in big jumpers and coats. So why not ‘layer up’ and put you’re favourite shirt, dress or pants underneath to cheer yourself up.

I thought I’d try it. So, I put my Calvin Klein boxers on with my Armani suit, shirt and tie underneath my Adisdias tracky bottoms, my Brazil 1970 World cup Shirt and a wool jumper my Mum bought me for Xmas 5 years ago. My immediate feeling was not good. Unable to actually walk properly I now knew how the Michelin Man must have suffered all those years. Having waddled to the livingroom worse was to come as the woodburner was at full pelt. Sweat was soon pouring from every orifice, and, even worse, having sat down, i couldn’t get back up again. I was going to perspire to death on my sofa. all because of a stupid idea from a Swedish website. I was saved by the arrival of my other half who, laughing, pulled me up and took me to cooler airts. Both now laughing hysterically (for what reason I do not know), I suddenly realised the Swedes might not be a bunch of turnips after all. It was dark and dismal outside but i was laughing. The added bonus, I lost 3 pounds πŸ™‚

to read the top 10 suggestions here’s the link

To finish off this edition of Dave’sWeek, I couldn’t not put these two youtube links up. The first one is so simple in it’s humour. Just a grandfather and grandson playing a simple game. With nearly a million views, they reckon this video may take this game to the top of the charts this Xmas. Made me laugh πŸ™‚

and lastly, every year John Lewis produce a Christmas advert for their stores. They’re usually up their with the best. This year is no exception and, if there’s not a tear in your eye by the end, you are George Osbourne πŸ™‚


So remember, get layered up and I hope you both have a great week  πŸ™‚

‘Dave’s Week – Ne pas parler franΓ§ais’ was brought to you by David Linden and Dodo Productions Β© 2015. You can follow me on Twitter at qosfc1919 or email me at  


Clash Of The Tartans

It is finally here, the first part of my serial comic about Westminster versus the SNP. Stay tuned, I promise it gets better……not much better, but better. FT πŸ˜›

Source: Clash Of The Tartans

Frozen football and Flying Fish

Both of you who’ve followed the blog voted 57 millionth best in the world, and, a survey of top bloggers said ‘Never heard of it’, will know I support a football team called Queen of the South. I don’t remember my first game, but, am told my Uncle Keith took me to see them when i was six. I’m nowhere near as dedicated as some Queens fans in attending games, but I’ve followed them throughout my life and given many many hours of my own time to help them over the years.

Going to see them has brought joy, tears and even a trip to Denmark to watch them play in the UEFA Cup, something no Queens fan would EVER would have predicted would happen. I’ve been to most grounds to see them, as far north as Inverness and Peterhead, across to Northern Ireland to see them play Coleraine and as far south as Wales to see them play Chester.

Through the years I’ve had some funny, and some less funny episodes, following the South across hill and dale……….

QOS team 76/77 season

QOS team 76/77 season

One of my earliest memories was when i was a teenager. My friend Andy and I were standing on the Terregles St terracing. We were playing Arbroath, probably in the lowest division at the time. It was freeeeezing……foggy…….and I was beginning to question my sanity. I mean we’d actually paid money to stand like an ice lolly eating stodgy pies, that would come back to haunt us in our elderly years. The game was hopeless, I’d lost the feeling in my feet, hands and other essential extremities. It was not a good night for the fairweather supporter. Still, come the 90th minute Andy & I still stood there watching, waiting, anticipating. Something could still happen. At any second…..any moment….I turned to Andy…..

‘Well, at least we got a point……’

It was just then the blonde head of Ian Yule received the ball on the left wing (apologies to Queens fans with better memories but this is how i remember it πŸ™‚ ). The Arbroath player danced past at least three Queens players before hitting the back of the net. We kicked off, the final whistle went, game over, we’d lost 1-0.

Still frozen to the spot, Andy and I turned to each other and both said at the same time….

‘That’s it. We’ll no be back…..’ πŸ™‚

As with most football fans, by the next home game, hope had raised eternal. We were back on the terracing, praying we’d see a nine goal thriller of end to end football with Queens coming out on top.

A lot of the funny things that happen in football, happen away from the match itself. I went to Greenock once to see Queens play Morton in a First Division game. Our minibus set off from outside the New Bazaar pub on a dull but dry day to make the eighty or so mile journey northward.
We arrived at a nice pub and I ordered beer battered fish and chips (it was during my ‘healthy eating’ stage ). It duly arrived, served by a lovely lady shouting above the din ‘TWO FISH AND CHIPS’.
I acknowledged her, switching my pint of lager to my left hand and moved towards her. I accepted the plate in my right hand and turned…………
You know that trick where magicians pull the tablecloth leaving all the cutlery and decorations still on the table? Well, I did a variation on the theme. As I turned with the plate in my hand, the greasy fish and chips decided not to come with us. The plate and I were at Longitude 65.3 Latitude 132.4 and the Fish and chips were hanging in the air at Longitude 65.3 and a bit. Despite being well cooked, they seemed to be frozen in midair, before the Laws of Physics took over and the whole lot crashed to the floor.

My dinner avec soggy lettuce

My dinner avec soggy lettuce

I looked down at the fish and chips, they looked up at me. I looked at my empty plate, it looked the other way. At this point you would have expected my loyal Queens supporters to rally round and have oodles of sympathy for my greasy plight. Instead a loud cheer went up, followed by raucous laughter and singing. I stood, centre stage, with full on petted lip, still holding my lager and a now bloody annoying white plate (actually i think the compulsory bit of soggy lettuce that you always leave was still clinging on). I sat down with my pint and hoped someone else would have a calamity to take the attention away from me.

As the minutes past and everyone returned to talking about space time continuums and multiverses , there were a couple of ‘that’s a shame Dave’ comments generally followed by slight sniggering. It was then that my faith in humanity was restored. The woman who’d served me, returned asking ‘Where’s the boy who lost his chips?’. Every hand in the pub pointed towards me.

Morton QOS at Cappielow

Morton QOS at Cappielow

‘Here son….’

She laid a fresh plate of beer battered cod and chips with compulsory soggy lettuce leaf, in front of me. Another, but subtly different, loud cheer went up, followed by some clapping. I went to give her more money….

‘Free of charge son. Hope you enjoy it….’

I could have cuddled her. My faith in humanity restored, i waded in, happy in the knowledge, there were some nice people in the world.

The game against Morton? I can’t remember πŸ™‚

‘Football Magic’ was brought to you by David Linden and Dod Productions Β© 2015 follow me on Twitter @qosfc1919 and write to me at

Dave’s Week – The Pabebe Wave

Well, another week of news and events which stunned us all with it’s lunacy and weirdness. From democracy gone mad to strangers trying to sidle in with the Queen, it was another cracker.

The Queen and the Spy :-)

The Queen and the Spy πŸ™‚

There was another apparent ‘tense stand-off’ during the State visit of Chinese Premier Xi Jinping, after a Beijing based ‘spy’ allegedly tried to get into the Queens Royal carriage alongside her. Now, not only have I been brought up with the motto ‘Two’s company, three’s a crowd’ but why would a spy want to get in the carriage in the first place. I have some ideas……

To plant a bug on the Queen so the Chinese could sit in Beijing and belly laugh listening to bedtime conversations between Her Majesty and the Duke of Edinburgh.
Protect Xi Jinping in case the Queen made a move on him
A Chinese plan to weasel information out of her as to who would win the 4:30 Handicap Chase at Kempton.

Apparently a heated exchange took place with the Queen trying to hit the spy over the head with one’s umbrella, until security guards pointed out she was hitting Xi Jinping. Rumours that Daniel Craig intervened with a karate chop to the neck to save Ma’am have been denied,

One other significant news item was the Lords voting down George Osborne’s Tax Credit Bill. I mean……the audacity….to democratically vote the way they thought was right and then be told they’d ‘voted wrong’. So Mad Dave and Dangerous George are ‘going to sort them out’. How dare they vote against a Government who need to save 20 billion a year from now until 2064 to prevent our descendants living like street urchins on scraps and rusty nails.

George’s cuts would see 3 million British people poorer by Β£1,300. All the Lords appeared to be saying was ‘HAVE YOU THOUGHT THIS OUT GEORGE?’

David and George

David and George

Now, I’m not a big fan of the Lords. Full of people who’ve been given a privileged place in society based on questionable criteria. However, they are there, and are a braking system for any wild ideas the Government of the time has (I wish they’d applied the brakes when Margaret Thatcher introduced the Poll Tax πŸ™‚ )

Given the public outcry around the cuts I think it would be wise of David Cameron and Mr Osborne to relent on chastising the Lords, stop behaving like spoiled oligrachs, and listen to people instead. πŸ™‚

‘Pabebe’ – yes, I’d never heard of it either. The Philippines has seen the emergence of the pabebe wave. Basically you raise your hand, cup it a little, smile and Pabebe away. With the right owner and distributor it can look cute, exuding warmth, trust and love, all in one little shake of a cupped hand. As you might expect, but, unlike my blog stories 😦 , Pabebe waves have gone a bit viral with tv stars, basketball players and even Gollum getting in on the act.

Pabebe Wave

Pabebe Wave

Apparently it started when two television presenters Pabebe’d on their show ‘Eat Bulaga’, which fortunately is not about eating Buluga whales, but is about doing Pabebe hand wave. Eat Bulaga, apparently translates as ‘lunchtime surprise’, and there have no doubt been some in its 36 year Filipino history. A quick check on Wikipedia gives us dramatic details of the shows history, incluing 2006, where there was a row between the shows producers and the resident dance group, ‘The SexBomb Girls’ which resulted in the SexBombers leaving the show. That’s probably why I stopped watching it. πŸ™‚

It made me think about Scottish handwaves. Despite being the friendliest nation on earth, we don’t do cute. Even our El Presidente, Nicola Sturgeon, doesn’t do cute and her wave is a bit rigid to be described as ‘cute’. Maybe she should try a bit of Pabebe to soften her image πŸ™‚

Basketball stars Pabebe wave

Basketball stars Pabebe wave

Scots salutes I came up with are the TwoBebe, which consists of two raised fingers, mainly used by Football fans up and down the country, and the OneBebe, which uses the middle finger thrust in the upward direction. The latter is consistently used in the direction of crap drivers who insist in being in the wrong lane at roundabouts. There’s a third ScotiPabebe wave which is too rude to mention in a PEGI 15 blog πŸ™‚

Gollum Pabebe wave

Gollum Pabebe wave

Anyway, try a bit of Pabebe this week and let me know how you get on. Send me a pic of you Pabebe’ing and I’ll post it next week on ‘Dave’s Week’ πŸ™‚

Nicola's not quite got the hang of Pabebe :-)

Nicola’s not quite got the hang of Pabebe πŸ™‚


The three people, nay two…… (one just unfollowed me πŸ™‚ ) , who follow me on Twitter, will know, like many others, how exasperated I get about Sepp Blatter and FIFA. The 79yr old leader of World Football’s famous organisation is either starting to get a bit dottery or he’s just not that bright. ‘Old Sepp’ has allegedly now stated that Russia were always going to get the 2018 World Cup before a vote was even cast. Oh what a Ratner moment that was.

He then went on to say that the USA were going to get the 2022 World Cup right up to the last minute when a Qatari prince walked in and sprinkled fairy notes all round the room.

Sepp's Pabebe wave

Sepp’s Pabebe wave

Now…….I always thought FIFA had two main objectives. To host a World Cup every four years and promote football throughout the world especially in poor regions. I think for years and years this probably was the case. I’m not sure when it started to go wrong (How long’s Sepp been in charge? πŸ™‚ ) but, in recent times, it’s went AWOL in a giant car crash type of way.

You see, for some people, trappings and wealth, get in the way of sensible thought and pabebe waving. Seven course champagne receptions, flying around the world to exotic locations, meeting princes instead of paupers. Given the choice of an all expenses trip to Qatar, five star hotel, more champagne, canapes and beautiful women, versus a trip to give football strips to some little kids in Ebola stricken Liberia, you can see how an organisations roots and aims can be ‘misplaced’.

“The FIFA code of ethics plainly prohibits such gifts. Football officials may not offer or accept gifts that have more than ‘symbolic or trivial value’ ”

Given the above, it was embarrassing that the Brazilian Football Federation gave 60 watches to FIFA officials at the 2010 World Cup as a ‘thank you’. What was even worse, they accepted them. There was an outcry, and they had to be told (presumably by Sepp in the Naughty Corner at FIFA headquarters πŸ™‚ ) to give them back.

Now, given Ronaldinho learnt his tricks barefoot on Copacabana beach, youngsters from the slums in Brazil might not need football boots and kit, but, buying Β£16,000 watches for FIFADOM officials doesn’t seem a great way to spend sponsors money.

Roll on 2015, and Sepp is denying any bribes took place during the process of awarding the next two world cups to two of the richest nations on earth. One, who had illegally snatched some major countryside from its neighbour and the the other, one of the hottest countries on Earth, where football players will melt in front of our eyes. Knowing our luck, the latter competition in Qatar, will be the one we gingers will qualify for πŸ™‚

Sepp and his silly sidekick Michel Platini, are now also embroiled in ‘Platini-gate’. Way back when Sepp was just a boy. circa early 2000’s, allegedly the bold Michel did ‘some work’ for Sepp as a ‘consultant’. Both Platini and Blatter obviously had the same memory lapse, as Michel was never paid for all his time and brilliant consulting…….until 11 years later, when the now UEFA President Platini was paid Β£1.3 million, just before Blatter was seeking re-election as FIFA’s president. Even better, allegedly this small payment to Michel didn’t warrant going through FiFA’s books!!

Michel Platini's pabebe wave

Michel Platini’s pabebe wave

Now, all these alleged anomalies are hidden behind rumours and smokescreens. Who knows what really goes on. Even forgetting about the other FIFA officials who are now being investigated, i think there’s enough information for us all to agree Blatter and Platini should give us all a Pabebe wave (hiding their watches) take their Armani suits and bugger off. Return football to it’s grass root officials, the supporters of Sunday Amateur teams right through to the the Champions League and beyond. Maybe then the little Liberian boys will get a chance to be the new Ronaldo, with FIFA’s raison d’etre backing them.

Until next time ( inserts ickle Pabebe wave here πŸ™‚ )

‘Dave’s Week – Do The Pabebe’ was brought to you by David Linden and Dodo Productions Β© 2015 Follow me on Twitter @qosfc1919 or email me

Dave’s Week

Well, that was a week wasn’t it. All seven weird wacky days of it. We had grown men in the shape of Rugby Union referee, Craig Joubert, running like a big wet pansy off the pitch, after awarding Australia a ‘non-penalty’ in the dying minutes of last weekends Quarter final of the 2015 World Cup.
We had the visit of the Chinese Leader, Xi Jinping, and his wife, Peng, who’s a well known folk singer in the Chinese state apartment block. They met David Cameron, the Queen and Jeremy Corbyn. If only they’d added Chris Eubank and a Dalek to that list, they’d have had the full gamete of British life. 😎

Dave the Rave and Xi Jinping

Dave the Rave and Xi Jinping

With Christmas fast approaching, both the Chinese premier and the Queen set the trends for gift ideas to the British public, with Xi Jinping receiving recordings of Shakespeare’s Sonnets and the Queen receiving two of Xi Jinping’s wife, Peng’s, folk cd’s. These will surely top Drones and Call of Duty BlackOps 3 for the XBox at the top of the Xmas gift charts!

China is growing at such a fast rate, the average population height will be five foot eight inches tall by 2050. Xi also told us it was not China’s fault that steel prices had fallen to the point where many steel plants in the UK were being forced to announce plant closures or redundancies.

When quizzed on the matter Xi Jinping stated……..

β€œI want to answer the steel question. The world is seeing an oversupply [of steel] following the financial crisis. China also has overcapacity,” he said. β€œWe have taken a series of steps [to remedy this]. We have cut 700m tonnes of production capacity. You can imagine the task of finding jobs for those workers.”

700 MILLION TONNES!!!! Jinping……what on earth were you doing mate? That’s enough steel to build a bridge to bloody Mars man! I think he was exaggerating as the New Statesman quoted annual production as ‘1.6 billion tonnes’ with China supplying around half. What Jinping didn’t say was, as China’s own economy slows, it’s State subsidised steel has flooded global markets slashing prices to the point where again the New Statesman quotes

“In July, it was reported that steel was cheaper per tonne than cabbage”

Now, I’m not a steel commodities expert, but, ‘cheaper per tonne than cabbage’ sounds cheap to me. So far there has been no news of cabbage growers across Europe jumping from steel bridges. That’ll probably be next week.

David Cameron also touched on Cybersecurity. In the week that Talk Talk’s security systems had been breached by a 12 year old Russian boy using a Raspberry Pi, it was topical that Dave the Rave should broach the subject. He stated “the cyber agreement is a first step towards wider potential security cooperation between China and the UK, in which each country will agree not to condone or conduct spying on each other’s intellectual property and confidential corporate information.”
Dave……c’mon…..China and Copying are almost anagrams in a bad edition of Countdown! Apart from fireworks and terracotta soldiers, which were definitely invented by the chinese, it has spent the last 50 years copying everything from jeans to i-pads to space rockets. If they stop stealing data from the West they’ll be growing only cabbage within ten years. Then the price of cabbage on the commodity markets will plunge below steel, UK cabbage growers will be out in the streets and it’ll all go belly up once more.

Dearer than steel

Dearer than steel

I mentioned Chris Eubank earlier. Younger readers won’t know who he is, but he’s famous for his lisp, and owning a big motherf***er truck. He also did a bit of boxing and likes dressing a bit dapper of a day. I don’t know him personally, but he’s always been nothing but entertaining. Well, having not heard of him for a while, he popped into the news this week, with the announcement, that, to avoid confusion with his boxing son, Chris Eubank Jr, he wants to be called ‘English’, in deference to his Dad, who’s nickname it was. I was going to say ‘We love you English’ but as a Scot………. πŸ™‚

English :-)

English πŸ™‚

The news that ruined some people’s weekend, was the World Health Organisation’s announcement that eating processed meats increases your chances of colorectal cancer by 18%. The fact I was eating a bacon roll at the time added to my misery, resulting in a Heimlich manoeuvre of tectonic proportions. I had to eat a sausage roll and beans to calm me down!!
The thing is, the risk of you getting colorectal cancer is still low. Are you going to avoid bacon for the rest of your life? A quick flick through this website suggests 2% of us will cop it due to cancer of the colon which is less than those dying from the flu……get that feckin grill on, a bacon sarnie beckons πŸ™‚

The BBC website announced that ‘character bento’ was trending. Character bento i hear you ask?…..what’s that? Well, you know how you go to a restaurant and ‘you want to see a nice plate of food Johnny’. In Japan apparently they’ve taken ‘a nice plate of food’ just a wee bit too far.
I’ve never been to Japan, but have heard from friends who’ve been there, about ‘bento boxes’. People working there, returned to tell me they had tried Japanese bento boxes but found them ‘disgusting’. Full of cold things and slime. Luckily, they were supplied with ‘European Bento boxes’ I thought this would consist of a cold sausage roll, a packet of Cheese crisps and a Mars bar with a little bottle of red cola. However, it simply consisted of more cold stuff and less slime.
But, the entrepreneurial Japanese, have come up with this……….

Cute Bento box

Cute Bento box

Yes, Bento box food with cute little faces on. Apparently it started in a karaoke bar in Tokyo when some young Tokyo-ites got off their face on saki. Things have never looked back! The Bento boxes taste exactly the same, but at least you have something nice to look at whilst you hunt for a McDonalds πŸ™‚ you can read more here

My week I hear you ask…..:-) Well. I did more boring things than you can shake a stick at. Hunted for red squirrels as we’ve had our first ever visitor to our garden. I spent some time writing a 3000 word story called ‘Luke’s Escape’ as part of The Village Gossip series.

I had Sandra, star of #Gogglebox follow me ( I should point out she does follow a lot of people πŸ™‚ ). I also sketched a woodpecker and tweeted away merrily all week. I really should get out more πŸ™‚

My woodpecker sketch :-)

My woodpecker sketch πŸ™‚

‘Dave’s Week’ was brought to you by Dave aka qosfc1919 on Twitter Β© Dodo Productions 2015 – you can email me at

Chapter 4 The Village Gossip ‘Luke’s Escape’

The Village Gossip

The Village Gossip

Luke Gabriel stumbled through the undergrowth, still dressed in nothing but a doctors coat, trousers, and his now muddy shoes. He’d been fumbling about for an hour or so now, not sure where he was, nor whether he was running in the right direction. He was also hungry. Despite being a doctor himself, hospital food and he did not agree, and hunger pangs were now a prevailing ailment trumping wet feet and the darkness. He had to get back to LochTae, find the farmer who knew what was causing half the village to start itching, then have their skin turn bright pink.
He heard a noise…….an engine………lights…..he could see lights………he scrambled towards the source…… last……at last he’d found a road and civilisation. He sprinted through the trees. He was just about there, when a tree root came between him and the touchline. He was probably not even as ungainly looking as the sack of potatoes he went down like. As he lay there in yet more mud….his potential good samaritan drove on, oblivious to Luke’s unplanned woodland floor tour.

On a slightly different mission, but nonetheless just as dangerous, Janet crept through the wood adjacent to her magical little cottage. She’d managed to escape from the village pub, clattering an unknown casualty in the process, but, was now nearly home. She was sure the soldiers would either not know her cottage existed, or they’d have searched, found nothing, and moved on. Assuming her theory was correct, she’d be back, safe and well, with enough food and fuel to see her through this dreadful episode. It was going to be a bit nerve-wracking, as the rest of the family were off visiting relatives in England but she’d be brave. Janet was now wishing she’d gone with them.
She arrived at the back gate, pulled the latch, and moved towards the back door. She’d picked up a thick branch on the way through the woods, just in case. She had just reached into her pocket for the key when she heard the noise………..she froze……..her Tai Chi classes were meant for moments like this…..she slid behind the wheelie bin.
Calm Janet calm……now deep breaths……it could be a fox, badger, deer, the fairies from the bottom of the garden… could be anything……but it wasn’t……..a human sized shadow carrying a torch, appeared round the side of the house, towards where Janet hid, Tai Chi’d beyond frozen, her heart was now dancing to a unstrictly come dancing beat as the intruder reached the cottage door…..
Janet launched herself from behind the wheelie bin….

‘Hoyyyyyyy Yaaahhhhh!!!’

She whacked the intruder on the back of the head, and down he went like Luis Saurez of a Saturday afternoon.


She grabbed the torch……and shone it in the now distinctly groggy assailants face……


There, lying at her feet was Barry. The villages one man Territorial Army expert. He groaned, creaking open one eye.

‘What did you do that for?’

‘Oh I’m sorry Barry. I didn’t know it was you. What are you creeping around here for anyway?’

Barry, now rubbing the back of his now throbbing skull, slowly stood up.

‘Let’s get inside……….you won’t believe what I’m going to tell you’


Luke estimated he’d been walking along the road for at least half an hour, when another vehicle came into view. The bright headlights blinded him, but he was desperate, so he leapt out into the road, and waved frantically. The car screeched to a halt, managing just enough momentum to lift Luke up onto the bonnet.

‘Jesus buddy. wad’ya doin jumpin about in the dark. This is Scotland, you people don’t behave like this. This….. is also a hire car…. one dent and I’ll sue your ass!!’

‘I’m sorry…..I need your help…..let me explain….’

ten minutes later…………

‘So buddy……you’re telling me that one day into your new job, having left your OCD psycho girlfriend, you were arrested, taken to an isolation ward, probed, prodded and jagged, only to be helped to escape by a nurse who ‘couldn’t resist your blue sparkling eyes’. You then spend half the night diving in mud in a doctors outfit only to jump in front of my car at 2 a.m. and all because of some pink men who stole some sheep!!! Look son……or should i say ‘Luke son’, geddit Luke son…. ‘

Luke feigned a smile.

‘Ok buddy. I’m not sure what medication you’re on, but just in case even half of what you’re sayin is true, I gotta get u somewhere, even if it’s just to one your mental institutions…..Look, you’ll need to get in the back with the girls. They both do karate, so I’d sit still if i were you……I’ve got a shirt in the boot that might fit you and some deodorant…….’

A can of IrnBru and some XL crisps later, they set of with Luke adorned with clean socks and a somewhat tight but clean dry shirt. He was already feeling a great deal better.

‘Okay, I’m Bob, this is my wife Lisa, and guarding you are FT and the one that’s snoring loudly, is Giovanna. We’re from Franklin, Maryland. This is our second visit to Scotland. You have a beautiful country. Last time we were here we stoopidly decided to meet up with some Scots we met through Twitter. Sheesh…..some real doozies. Would never do that again! So this time, we didn’t tell them we were coming, we hired a car and we’re off to explore the Heelands……’

‘Well, my name is Luke, I’m a doctor and no matter how bizarre the story I’ve told you may sound, it’s all true. I need to find the farmer who knows the truth behind the villagers turning pink, get him to tell the authorities, and the whole saga will be over. Hopefully, I can then return to my job, get some peace, tranquility and live a normal village life’


Bob swerved as a car hammered round the corner in the opposite direction nearly careering into them.

‘Jesus man, what’s got into this place? Last time it was fat guys running away from fireworks, haggis n’ neeps, shopping in Edinbro. Now it’s mad doctors, pink men and psycho drivers….’


Despite nearly taking Bob’s car out on the bend, Lolo kept her foot down on the pedal. She had seen the hospital where Luke was being kept on the news. She’d found him at last. Even if he did have a deadly disease, she’d ask to die with him. That would be special. Together to the end.

‘What do you mean they’re Russian?!’exclaimed Janet

‘I’m telling you. I overheard some of them. One minute they’re talking English better than you or I, the next it’s ‘Niet Niet Nietski’

‘but Barry, how could, what, 50 or so Russian troops, arrive here in LochTae unopposed, at the same time as an unknown virus strikes down the village…’s impossible!’

‘I’m telling you. We HAVE to phone the authorities and warn them’


Dawn arrived over LochTae and the Village Pub BootCamp was stirring.

‘I hope this is all over soon Ginny. Even surrounded by lots of young fit Rugby players, even I’m getting a bit bored of all this’

‘Never thought I’d here those words coming from your lips Gill’ πŸ™‚

‘Well, since the telly in the pub’s gone bonkers, I can’t even watch the Cardiff game tonight, and, it’s really weird that they’ve confiscated everyones smartphones. Something about stopping the press invading our privacy while the Army sort everything out’

‘I hope Janet’s alright? That was brave of her making a break for it. I wonder where she is?’


‘The phone’s dead’

‘Dead?…….that’s strange………I know you’re in the middle of the woods, but do you normally have problems with your phone?’

‘Nope…..Barry……I do not……I’m starting to think you’re theory might not be as barkingly mad as I thought. I’m not sure how we prove it, and, if it is true, what we do about it?’

‘Well, I plan to take them out one by one… ping ping’

‘Barry! this is getting way out of control. You don’t even know whether you heard them speaking Russian or not. Could you have misheard them?’

‘Okay. It could have been Gaelic, Welsh or Liverpudlian for all I know. I just thought I heard one of them say “Niet” ‘

‘So, based on that, you’re going to load up your snipers rifle and take them out one by one?’

‘Well……..maybe we should double check then’

‘I think maybe we should Barry. I’m not sure what the penalty would be for shooting 50 Scottish soldiers by mistake, but I don’t think you’d be allowed on any more TA training courses……I have a plan which might prove whether you’re right or not…..’


Lolo strode past the front desk towards the lift. At last she’d have the chance to prove to Luke how much she loved him. Minutes later she was outside the isolation ward. Damn! It was keycoded. She rolled her fingers to whiteness. However, it wasn’t long before a nurse emerged from the other side. Lolo barged past her……

‘Excuse me…you’re not supposed to….’

Her words evaporated in the air, as Lolo homed in on her prey………nay…boyfriend (also now known as ex-fiancee πŸ™‚ ) It wasn’t long before she located a room with five males……

‘Stop her, you can’t enter….’

Too late was the cry. Lolo barged past another nurse and burst into the ward….

‘Luke Gabriel…..where is he!!????’

‘I’m afraid you missed him, he escaped last evening’

‘But…..he has to be here he HAS to be….you’re lying!!’

She never had a chance to find out whether they were lying or not, as four suited up staff grabbed her from behind. She turned and lashed out, pulling the mask from one of her assailants. No one could hear what the muffled hospital staff were saying, but it was evident panic had set in as the clearly bonkers woman ladled into them. It was only when another group of staff appeared, that Lolo was finally taken down and restrained.


‘Dr Ratcliffe and Jones looked through the window at the young woman now restrained in an isolation room bed’

‘Who is she?’

‘She’s the girlfriend of Luke Gabriel, the Doctor chap who escaped yesterday. Not much else known about her at the moment. Police are checking her background. She managed to expose three of the staff to the air in the isolation room. We now have fourteen villagers and five staff in isolation. At this rate we’ll all be in there soon’

‘Perhaps not Dr Jones. My initial tests show no pathogen is present in the patients. Also the female staff from the village Doctors surgery, despite being exposed, show no symptoms at all. It’s more like an auto-immune response to some external factor like a chemical or an irritant of some sort. Perhaps you’d keep that to yourself to enable me to do more checks but, at this moment, an endemic pathogen is not on my list of culprits’


Luke peered down at Lochtae. Bob and his family had not only given him a rather tight fitting, but waterproof jacket to go with the tight fitting shirt they’d lent him earlier, they’d also donated a pair of binoculars. Giovanna, who’d snored through most of the trip, had finally woken and had stared scarily at Luke reluctantly handing over her bottle of Irn Bru. Luke had promised them he’d look them up on Twitter once it was all over and pay them back.

He could see vehicles moving around, but that was about it. He was too far away. He looked round the valley. There was a large wood down to the left which might give him enough cover to get close enough. Hopefully, if he wasn’t shot in the process, he’d find someone in command, and tell him the truth about the ‘contagion’. He’d wait until dark and set off towards the woods.


‘So, you’re going to borrow the megaphone from the Village Hall and shout in Russian “the British Army are here!” That’s your plan?’

‘Well, it’s better than your plan to ‘shoot on sight’ for goodness sake. If they understand what I say, and start panicking, then your theory is correct’

‘….and i can start shooting them??’

‘Oh Barry, you are not right of the head…, we escape and let the authorities deal with them’

‘What if they take everyone in the pub hostage?’

‘Oh Barry!!! You’re theory is bonkers…..downright bonkers…..I don’t know why I’m even thinking about doing this. There will be a simple explanation as to why some villagers turned pink, and, as we originally thought, these are simply Scottish soldiers carrying out their duties. A Russian invasion in the middle of Scotland! You’re incorrigible sometimes….!’


Meanwhile, in the Doctors surgery just along from the pub……..

‘Okay. Everything looking quiet in the village?’

‘Yes Captain. Everything is fine. The rugby boys are already in full swing and it’s only lunchtime’

‘Any more patients?’

‘No Sir, nothing at all.’

‘We must move quickly then…………..’


At around 11pm Luke finally reached the edge of the woods. The extent of his stealth training was a few paintball sessions whilst at Medical School, and watching Bear Grylis stalking prey on tv. He listened. Nothing. He crept from tree to tree, sometimes waiting minutes before moving on. As he lay on the moss floor of the forest, he contemplated the madness of not just this week, but the previous mayhem of long hours as a medical student and junior doctor, followed by the madness of Lolo. Why couldn’t he have copied his brother, got a job in the City, made his money and retired to Florida by the age of 30. He wondered where Lolo……Laura, was. Probably stalking some other junior doctor and making lists. He almost smiled. It was just then he heard a click and opened his eyes to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun……………

Episode 4 ‘Luke’s Escape’ was brought to you by David Linden aka @qosfc1919 Β©Dodo Productions 2015 – if you like my stories you can email me at

Heather Hill, Author & Comedy Writer

British Author and Comedy Writer

Some Words That Say What I Think

a collection of words about my average, bog-standard life accompanied by some sub-par illustrations that depict selected moments in said life

Nicholas Rinth


Skinny and Single

Single and Over 40 and Not Suicidal About It

gina's sketches

The sketches and their stories

Paul Cairney: Politics & Public Policy

Professor of Politics and Public Policy, University of Stirling

You've Been Hooked!

Observations from the trenches....


The value of those societies in which the capitalist mode of production prevails, present itself as "an immense accumulation of commodities", its unit being a single commodity --- Karl Marx

alpha // whiskey // foxtrot

An unapologetically all-over-the-place journal by Ashley Wilson Fellers


Film and Writing Festival for Comedy. Showcasing best of comedy short films at the FEEDBACK Film Festival. Plus, showcasing best of comedy novels, short stories, poems, screenplays (TV, short, feature) at the festival performed by professional actors.


Just a regular thirty-something-year-old trying to capture the essence of life in writing. Join me as I journey through the ups, the downs and the adventures in between.

Theo. Photography

Amanda Sington-Williams Writer

Published author of novels and short stories.

jennie orbell

Blogger of Everyday Stuff and Nonsense. Author.


thriller,spy,action,drama,detective,medical thriller,horror,mystery and paranormal movies

%d bloggers like this: