Jim Green Can See

 

Jim Green (pictured here in sweater and slacks) is the celebrated author of "Chewing and Swallowing Food" and is now working on notes for his second volume, tentatively entitled "Avoid Malnutrition - Chewing and Swallowing More Food". "I'd have finished ages ago," he remarked in an interview given last winter, "but I needed new spectacles and my eye tests seem to take longer than they should."

Roger and His New Long-Play Record Album

 

Chris and the Birthday-Do

 

Wendy White By Starlight

 

Flying off to save the world, eh Wendy? Show off. I wish I could fly.

The Athletic Kid!

Real name: Penrose Sunshine

 

Powers: Some type of jagged, orange ray that he shoots
out of his finger;
runs the 10km in 47 minutes (pr)

 

Weaknesses: Radon, knives, 
mild constipation

 

Hobbies: Dancing, wrestling

 

Origin: Struck by radioactive lightning while getting run-over by a tanker carrying sports-drink, Penrose evoked the name

of Macadam (the ancient deity of  fun-runs) and became...
The Athletic Kid!

    

    

 

 

Sandie El McHorowitz - The Man Who is Half Man, Half Nothing Else

 

THE RECURRING DREAM - while paging through the atlas on a chilly winter's eve, page 53 falls out and flutters to the floor. Stooping to retrieve it, I notice it depicts the main agricultural crops of the Baltic countries (sugar beets and onions seem to feature strongly).
On turning it over, I notice the other side is not from the atlas, but is an old school menu from 1983, detailing a week's meals for early October.

Curious, I turn it over again - only to find this queer drawing depicting the track-and-field athlete Sandie El McHorowitz training for the Barcelona Olympics.

In my dream I then awaken and - still dreaming - I go to the shelf and take down the atlas. To my alarm, every page has been crudely removed save page 53. It is blank but for one cryptic message scrawled in red (blood?), written with a childish hand near the lower left corner.

It reads, "Hey, this ain't much of an atlas, is it? Why not go buy a new one, you dumbo?"

 

 

Josef Heroic Calligraphy Takes an Active Holiday

 

Here's a little riddle for all my readers - what's long and thin, made out of meat and swings limply in the breeze?

Why, it's none other than Josef Heroic Calligraphy taking a well-earned week off at one of Ibiza's many top-notch resorts. Enjoying the sun, surf and a little swingin' nightlife, Calligraphy is pictured at right getting in some light activity before luncheon on the veranda.

     "A short run on the swings sharpens my appetite. I'm planning on having the fried fish and some rice, maybe a little fresh fruit for afters. They do some really nice meatballs in tomato sauce too, might have a couple of those with some bread. Then I'm getting hammered on cocktails."

How's Come You Smell So Damn Good, Donna? 

 

HER FRAGRANCE IS AT ONCE NUTTY and sweet, with a hint of vanilla and a dash of lemon zest. To breath deeply of Donna is to experience an olfactory cleansing - a good, healthy whiff and the nose undergoes a nasal calibration. All odours, and memories of odours, must be redefined in relation to her remarkable scent.

Truly, if you enjoy sniffing stuff, you owe it your nose to give her nooks and crannies the once-over.

Lovely Horace - The World's Wet (and quivering) With Anticipation

 

     THE GALS ALL GO CRAZY 'BOUT Horace. Literally crazy - one young woman from Guilford developed congestion of the brain after stepping out with the dashing young man for an evening at the pictures; another sad girl was confined to her bed during the spring of 19- , with manic fits of self-abuse, interspersed with bouts of thick oral frothing.

     But Horace takes it all in his stride. "There's bound to be a belle for this beau out there somewhere. They can't all be mentally defective. Maybe I should stop poisoning their soda when they go to powder their noses. But it's fun, you know?"

 

 

Jimmy Jimaroo - Electrical Fantasies Under a Hunter's Moon

 

     J. JIMAROO CHUCKLED AS HE FLEW over the rooftops and the elms in their autumn finery. "15 meters? That's too long, man! It'll tangle." That's what the salesman at the hardware had told him. "Why not try our 2.5 model? It's our biggest seller. No one really needs an extension chord any longer."

     But Jimaroo would not be put off. With disgust he left the shop and called in at the store on the other side of town. Again he met with reservations from the assistant when he asked for a 15 meter cord. "Why, that's monstrous!" said the clerk with a start, but eventually Jimaroo was sold his length of electrical insulated wiring.

     "Fine," the attendant had ultimately sighed, with surrender creeping into his voice. "Fine, take it. Suit yourself."

     And Jimaroo did, and was self-suited.