I hate email

Every time I email, I feel a deep sense of betrayal, like an unicyclist with a banana stuck up his nose. I see no face, not even ink, soon I wont have to think, they will stick an electrode in my brain and we will, ‘communicate’. What a God forsaken drag modern life is? Where …

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The strange voyage of Cunningham Herbaceous

Cunningham Herbaceous lived in a vegetable marrow, Cunningham Herbaceous wished to die in Turnip. In the land of Vistapoolantidote there existed a vigilante group called the Gastric manipulators much famed for their song; ‘Always look on the bowel side of life.’ Cunning Herbaceous had hitched a lift with them from the, ‘Welcomebreak’ services on the …

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