Gusty Blusts

and other stories The Weird and Wonderful World of "J"
Approx 205 words | Read time approx 1 - 2 mins

I want to breed you

A strange farmer type turns up on the doorstep and offers a somewhat bizarre personal service . . .

OVER THE YEARS I’ve heard some pretty bizarre and downright peculiar opening lines, but ‘hello, I want to breed you!’ from a strange farmer type that turned up on the doorstep, has to be one of the strangest . . . Although, evidently he was keeping his options open because he did also offer to and I quote, ‘breed with me’ as well.

Having lived on a farm for goodness knows how many years, and grown up in the country, I’d become accustomed to the strange behaviours of some of the farming types so, tended not to ask any questions.

I just presumed he was talking about one of the animals in the nearby fields. Although since there weren’t actually any animals in the fields, nearby or otherwise, I wasn’t entirely sure. Especially since he was a tad on the over-excited side and had a rather alarming glint in his eyes.

It may very well have been the best offer I’d had all day, had it not been really quite disturbing . . .

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Approx 178 words | Read time approx 1 - 2 mins

Bare bottoms and books

Answering a call of nature in a book store proves to be really rather revealing . . .

IT’S NOT everyday you walk into the ladies toilets and discover a strange bloke stood with his back to you, pants down round his ankles and saying the words “I’m ready!” Well, not from my experience thankfully anyway. Although in all fairness, this was in Los Angeles so, you never know . . .

Quite what he was doing there, or indeed just who or what he was expecting, I’ve no idea and wasn’t going to ask. Although I did manage to point out that he was in fact in the ladies toilets and he would possibly garner more passing trade in the gents.

Strange how this was met with a rather bemused look and the reiteration that he was ready for me.

I resisted the urge to ask ‘but just what do you want me to do?’ and bade a hasty retreat instead.

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Approx 369 words | Read time approx 2 - 3 mins

Bottoms, breakfast and holey underpants

Man baring his backside in a liftBare bottoms, underpant flashing in a public place and accusations involving imaginary breakfasts . . .

WANDERING ALONG a corridor in the local general hospital, the monotony was suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted by a strange, middle-aged bloke who, for reasons that no doubt made sense to him at the time, felt the urge to tell me about a hole he apparently had in his underpants . . . Quite why he thought I should be interested, I’ve no idea, but there you go.

The small matter of him wanting me to rummage around in his pants to find it, was only slightly more disturbing than him actually unbuckling his belt, starting to pull his trousers down and grabbing hold of his undies.

Even more disturbing though was the fact that this was a particularly busy corridor and folks were just passing on by oblivious – as if this kind of thing was a regular occurrence.

Then, and if that wasn’t quite bad enough, I unfortunately ended up sharing a lift with an old bloke who, no sooner had the doors closed, lifted up his gown, bent over, thrust his bare, hairy backside in my face and said ‘here, will yer have a feel of this?’

‘Er, no, you’re alright thanks!’ I responded somewhat dumbfoundedly while wondering yet again, just how the hell I managed to attract them. Needless to say as soon as the lift doors opened, I made my hasty exit. Even if it did turn out to be the wrong floor.

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Approx 179 words | Read time approx 1 - 2 mins

Want to lick my honey?

A strange man turns up on the doorstep and offers me a lick of his honey . . .

AFTER SPENDING three weeks housebound following surgery, things were getting more than just a tad desperate . . .

So, when a strange, youngish bloke turned up on the doorstep offering me a lick of his honey well, I was understandably, more than just a little tempted. The fact that I don’t actually like the stuff was neither here nor there.

As to why he was on my doorstep in the first place well, I can only presume it was to try and sell me some honey, but then again you never know. And since I gave up trying to work out this kind of thing a long, long time ago, I wasn’t going to be asking either.

Although if he wanted to sell me some honey I’d have thought he should have least had some jars with him to actually sell . . .

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Approx 516 words | Read time approx 2 - 4 mins

When umbrellas go bad

Popcorn and pop

Acrobatic umbrellas, low flying coats and the stealth bombing of an unsuspecting cinema audience . . .

I’D ONLY just removed my wet coat and put it over the empty seat to my left along with my equally wet umbrella . . . when it happened . . .

Although, in my defence I didn’t know the seat wouldn’t take too kindly to the offloading of wetness and return to its upright position, despatching the offending articles in the process.

In a fraction of a second both my wet coat and umbrella were catapulted skywards, out of their seat and into the dark, vast expanse of the auditorium. Somehow the coat managed to unfold itself as it flew backwards through the air, while liberally dispensing freezing cold rainwater over an audience that had paid good money to get out of the rain.

Then, arms outstretched, as if adopting an almost human like kite form, it performed what can perhaps only be described as an aerial raid, as it proceeded to empty out its pockets over those unfortunate enough to be under its flight path.

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Approx 290 words | Read time approx 1 - 2 mins

Old farmers and fire starters


Black bin bags and a strange old man brandishing a petrol lighter . . . just some of the bizarre things found in the garden . . .

IT’S NOT every day you draw back the curtains to discover a strange old farmer trying to set fire to a pile of rubbish in your back garden is it? Well, thankfully not at least anyway.

Just because your garden might well have resembled a post apocalyptic aftermath is beside the point – you still really don’t expect this kind of thing.

So there he was, this strange, manic old farmer sporting a flat cap, grubby tweeds and wellybobs, emptying out two big black bin bags of household waste into the garden. Before producing a lighter and then setting fire to it. Or at least trying anyway, since half-empty tin cans, mouldy, half eaten slices of bread, egg shells, rotting vegetables and the like aren’t exactly reknown for their flammable properties.

Whereas the stuff that was of a flammable nature like newspapers, empty cereal boxes, yoghurt pots and cartons were busily being scooped up by the wind and distributed around the neighbourhood as part of a major countryside littering campaign.

As for why he was trying to torch the trash I’m not entirely sure, but even the not-so-subtle ‘what the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at you silly old pillock!’ from the other half, who was never one to mince words, unfortunately seemed to fall on deaf ears.

What a mess. Let’s just say he cleared up what little had neither burnt nor blown away, but as to why he’d chosen our garden since it wasn’t exactly near anyway, I’d absolutely no idea.

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Approx 345 words | Read time approx 1 - 3 mins

The last laugh

Cappuccino smiles, partially eaten pears and sniggering strangers . . .

WITH TIME to kill between appointments, I headed for the cafe where I grabbed a drink and found what I thought was going to be a quiet seat, out of the way . . .

So, there I was minding my own business, jotting down notes and sipping my cappuccino when someone started sniggering loudly nearby.

Glancing up I came face-to-face with a man in his mid-to-late forties, who was by now grinning and pointing at my face. Not that I was paranoid or anything, but I didn’t think I was that bad. I wouldn’t mind but it wasn’t as if he’d have won any beauty awards himself. Especially since half his teeth were missing and those he had all pointed in different directions. The cheeky sod!

Then the penny dropped as I remembered I’d been drinking a cappuccino and knew only too well that without supervision things could get messy. Sure enough I had a first class froth smile, chocolate sprinkles on my chin and forehead, and the piece de la resistance in the form of froth on the end of my nose.

It was then that the unexpected happened as the grinning guy dropped a packet of sugar on the floor and bent over to pick it up. Only as he did so, he caught a three-quarter cup full of cold tea that had been left at the edge of the table by the previous occupant. Spilling the contents down the back, side and left arm of his light grey jacket, not to mention the floor.

Well, it certainly made his expression change I can tell you. Gone was the smug look and snigger as he tried to save face by remarking ‘never mind, it’s only liquid!’

Ah, but it wasn’t as he quickly discovered when the remnants of a pear that I’d conveniently disposed of in the cup earlier, plopped out and took up a new residence on his shoulder . . .

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Approx 280 words | Read time approx 1 - 2 mins

Mmmm – you smell nice!

Social interactions and interesting smells – how to unwittingly attract strangers in your doctors waiting room . . .

THERE WERE already half a dozen people sat in the doctor’s waiting room when I arrived. Two men were sat together, but the others sat as far apart as was physically possible. Each occupying their seats like remote human islands, steadfast and determined not to contract whatever lurgy or social diseases the others might possibly have. Either that or they could just have been downright unsociable of course.

I’d just sat down to wait for my appointment when one of the two guys who were sat together decided to try do his bit for community relations by addressing each and everyone of the ‘islands’ in turn with the words “don’t I know you?”
‘No!’ Came each aggrieved response.
‘I think I do – you just don’t remember me!’ he was nothing if not persistent.
‘No, I’ve never seen you before in my life!’
‘Ah, yer do know me really – don’t you?!’
‘No, shut up yer silly bugger!’

And, finally having tried his luck with all the ‘islands’ and received similar responses, he physically got up out of his seat, walked across the room and of all the spare seats, came sat next to me. Then grinning like an imbecile, he leaned in just a little to close and said ‘mmm – you smell interesting!’

What?! Although admittedly it was marginally better than the other half’s bizarre ‘you smell of Cornish pasties’ remark I received when collecting him from work that same evening . . . I wouldn’t mind but I hadn’t even eaten a pastie.

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Approx 194 words | Read time approx 1 - 2 mins

Tractor tales

Phone receiver

Strange country bloke calls and offers a ride on his tractor . . .

ANSWERING THE PHONE I was met with what sounded like a bearded man with a heavy west country accent demanding to know whether I had any ‘luv-ver-lee tractors?’

‘Er, no’ I said before telling him that he’d obviously got the wrong number. Although the response of ‘no I haven’t – I’m talking to you aren’t I?’ wasn’t the kind of logic I wanted to hear.

‘But I don’t have any tractors – lovely or otherwise’ I said before telling him to try the farmhouse instead.

‘Oh!’ He said sounding a little downhearted before quickly recovering with ‘well, nevermind I have – would you like to see them?’

‘Er, no, no, you’re alright thanks!’ I said whilst wandering once again into the realms of why me?

‘Oh, well would you like to come and have a ride on one of my luv-ver-lee tractors then?’

‘Er, no, no, you’re alright thanks!’ I said again wondering whether this guy was for real.

‘Are you sure?’ he said ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy it – I know I certainly will!’

‘What? Goodbye!’

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Approx 175 words | Read time approx 1 - 2 mins

Alternative amusement

Nurses, needles and audience reactions – experiencing the art of acupuncture so they don’t have to . . .

IT’S NOT everyday you attend your alternative therapy session to inadvertently find yourself being the source of entertainment for a bunch of doctors, nurses and well, anyone else who expresses the remotest interest at the time.

Although in all fairness I really don’t think they fully understood what they were letting themselves in for. Since the first needle hadn’t quite gone into my back before three of them produced muffled screams, one fainted and a fourth hurriedly departed the room. Closely followed by my specialist and acupuncture therapist who, determined to prove that the needles didn’t in fact hurt, proceeded to stick one into the poor escapee. Who,somewhat understandably screamed out loud and then started crying.

Anyone would think that having a conversation with someone resembling a human pin cushion or even that guy from Hellraiser was just a little too much for them . . .

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