Trains

I think probably every single time I've caught a train I've misjudged where the doors will stop. You'd think the chances of getting it right would be great enough so that it would be possible at least sometimes - particularly on the Tube. Let's say there are probably quite a lot of doors on the Tube trains and a not particularly long platform. But never have I got it right.

I love how people start following the doors as the train comes into the station. 'That's my door. That's the one I want' people think as the train comes in, and basically run sideways for half the length of the platform because they misjudge where it will stop, usually bashing into people on the way.

It's even more funny when they go a little too far and then have to sidestep back again, staggering like they're somehow drunk...

Last time I was on a train I'd forgotten to bring a book. Schoolboy error. People were looking up from their pages as if to say 'Well? What are you going to do now?' I started trying to read the pages of the books that the people beside me were reading. Have you ever tried to do that? You get some weird fragments. I learnt basic Quantum Mechanics and how to cook a risotto between St Pancras and Blackfriars. You get some great mixtures as well. A kid on my right was reading Enid Blyton and the woman on my left was reading some romance fiction. I got 'Five go for Sun, Sea and Sex in Saint Tropez'.

Genius

Driving

Why is it that we always duck when we're driving and a bird flies a little bit too low? We're inside a car! I'm sure the bird doesn't think 'Well I appreciate the thought, although frankly? A little pointless'.

We always seem to have a different driving attitude when different people are in the car. When mates are in the car, the window's down, elbow's maybe resting nonchalantly on the window, drum and bass playing...well as long as we're going 40-something miles an hour that's still basically 40...

When nan's in the car we sit upright, both hands on the wheel, well we might get to 70. Do you fancy a bit of Strauss? Mozart perhaps?

And yet we basically drive exactly the same.

The only time I'm less fond of driving is in rush hour. You know, the hour (well, let's say between the hours of 8 and 9...no, the hours of most of the morning). That time when traffic is in fact least likely to be rushing. If anything it's at a complete standstill. What a completely misleading title for a time of day!

Doctors

I hate doctors. They're always so...clinical. You always have to sit in a room with loads of other ill people, like everyone's waiting for a train to Flu-ville. It wouldn't surprise me if I'm more ill now than when I went in.

I had to ask my parents who my GP was - as far as I was concerned my local GP was Silverstone.

What's with all the questions they ask you when you go in? Do I have any allergies? I swell up around latex? That's not an allergy, he said.

One of the questions was any past history of suicide. Any past history of suicide? Would I be standing here if the answer was yes? Think through your phrasing guys.

I wondered if doctors ever responded to the 'Dr, Dr' jokes, the ones we always said when we were kids. 'Dr, Dr, I feel like a hermaphrodite' I said. 'Go *uck yourself' he replied.

How rude.

Recreational drugs

The term recreational drugs always puzzles me. I've never met anyone who's said 'no, I never take recreational drugs. Strictly for business purposes only.'

Apparently the drug du jour is Ketamine, Ket, K, Special K, vitamin K, bump, cat, Valium, Kez, Kezzle, Kezbar. It's horse tranquilizer. No matter what you call it, it's still horse tranquilizer. Anything that can tranquilize a horse surely isn't going to be good for you. Maybe I'm just not wild enough.

I think it's a Class C drug, but I'm not really up on the classifications. Last time I asked for a Class A I got a Mercedes. To be honest if you go upto someone smoking weed and say 'is that a Class C drug mate?', they'll just agree that 'yeah it is a pretty sweet drug'.

Having said that, without drugs, Aldus Huxley couldn't have written his book 'Doors of Perception', Coleridge couldn't have written 'Kubla Khan' and neither could most of the stuff in the Daily Mail. All of the paranoia and depression in their headlines has to be the result of a bad trip, which I imagine to be like going on a coach trip to a funfair at Margate with your nan - involving terror, lack of control and cosmic entrapment. Or maybe that was just my nan.

However you look at it, drugs are bad for your wealth. Not something you want to get into. A friend of mine used to be a drug dealer. She worked in a pharmacy.

Time for one more pun?

I heard there used to be an ecstasy bar round here. It's gone to pot now though.

Anniversary poem

A man struggling to find an adequate anniversary present for a girlfriend who's hard to please

He says... ...She says

My love is like a rose...

Oh, bloody expensive?
I know you didn't say it
But I know you meant it

No, I meant you're as pretty as...a bouquet of flowers

Which start off nice but then wilt in hours?

Honestly honey, I'm just trying to be pleasant
But if you don't like my words I've also got you a present
I bought your favourite perfume, 'Irresistible Spell'

Are you saying I smell?
(she yells in his face)
And didn't Michelle wear that
When she last came round our place?

That's not why I bought it darling, please calm down
I'll make you some tea, please sit down
And here's a box of chocolates...

Are you trying to make me fat?
I'm trying to watch my weight, you know that

But I thought just once...OK, I get the deal
Well how about we go for a nice candlelit meal?

(They have a Chinese, he says) Do you fancy the duck?

Do I fancy a *uck?!
If you think I'm like that
Well, then you're out of luck!

I just meant the food (he says) I don't want a fling
To show my commitment I'll give you a ring

Give me a ring?!
I want more than a phone call to show me you care

And he just raises his hands in despair

Syllepsis Rhyme

An ironic paean to the person mistreated by their ex but who's more concerned about the material details and losses than that of the love itself...

'She went home in floods of tears (and a taxi)'

You took me for a ride (and then a curry)
You never paid attention (or the bill)
You were having a laugh (and a McFlurry)
You owe me 99p still.

You drank life (and the bottle) to the full,
You lived in a semi and on the edge
You broke your promise (and my pencil)
You nicked one from Ikea instead.

You drove me to despair (and then Dover)
You made haste (and a salmon paste roll)
You went too far and into the back of a Rover,
You made my no claims bonus fall.

You dented my feelings and the bumper,
I had to hold the door and then my tongue,
You tried my patience (and my jumper)
It doesn't fit anymore.

You changed just like the wind blows,
You stole my heart (and then my stereo)
You shattered my dreams (and my window)
You made my premium rise.

(I was banking with Halifax), oh, and on you,
To you my glass and my hopes were raised,
While I looked like a fool (and for my stereo)
You lost my love and my money in days.

Photo Booth Poem

In the booth of photographic illusions one wonders what’s behind
The curtain of self doubt that creates a makeshift blind;
A sturdy boot or stiletto heel one may glimpse, but nothing more,
And very few dare to step inside that lonely booth on the third floor.

Some said that it was haunted, others said they were mad,
Others said a guy inside had died he looked so bad,
But only the courageous entered, and I was too scared,
But for the wonder which befell me I was completely unprepared -

I drew aside the curtain and stepped inside the door,
I looked aghast around me, I looked around in awe,
The walls were pearly marble and appareled with a flower,
In front there was a basin, behind there was a shower,

Oh the joy of the discovery, that I could have a wash!
I never found a photo booth anything like as posh,
It had every bathroom facility, every type of soap -
It even had a loofah which was more than I could hope.

All this for three pound fifty was quite a new delight,
Far from the simple photo booth it had seemed upon first sight,
Its sparkling plush interior was hidden by the blind,
And only a select few know of the heaven that lies behind