The Revenge of the King – An Introduction!

An Introduction

Gerostamacamimo del baristaminimo or Gero as I call the hero of this tale (just to make my life easier!) was a fantastic hero in the Dark Ages of The Twanger wars. He is now the whisper of legend and folk tales. His ego would be dissapointed.

His long blonde locks were drenched in the colour of sun and his piercing blue eyes were the colour of the sky.  His only downfall was that he had the high pitched voice of a damsel in distress.

He never ever had a chance with the ladies as gallant as he was.

He also rode a giant turtle who became his friend and confidant.  The turtle was named Shelly and she was the fastest turtle to grace the land of Obituary. I know it truly is a morbid name for the land but it is what it is.

This turtle secretly despised him and would smile at his lame jokes and fake emotion when he was losing battles.  The turtle even abandoned him in the Battle of the Trolls having had enough of him pissing around.  Gero found her though in the heat of the battle and stayed by her, every time he talked she rolled her eyes at the high pitched voice.

Now our hero Gero went on many quests to save fair maidens from clich├ęs, overthrow usurpers of kingdoms and defeat mighty beasts and foes.  One such quest was the defiler of the Wiggly Seas! A huge monstrosity of a 7 fanged walrus began terrorising passing ships with insults.  Yes a talking walrus.

Things like “you’re overcompensating with that boat!” And “you couldn’t get a boat wet on the sea!”.  This walrus was an abomination and seafarers had committed the ultimate sacrifice as this walrus wounded their pride.

One such victim was reported to scream to his death “you’re so mean!”.  And so it was that King Geobald The Master Usurper put out a reward upon this walrus to be taken out.

Unfortunately for the king our hero wanted the reward for ousting the usurper king.  Be careful what you wish for I guess! Besides our hero didn’t want to get his clothes and hair wet anyway fighting this walrus.

And so the king was overthrown after a ridiculously long duel to the death with our hero.  In a weird twist it turned out that the king was actually the walrus, he could transform at will. In some weird plan the king wanted to be rid of various trade routes.  Illuminati confirmed!

So Gero was paid handsomely for both quests plus he took as much treasure from the castle vaults. He was the happiest hero in the land. Until the king came back from the dead via a Court Wizard who was a devout follower of the 7 Fanged Walrus. He went and searched for Gero across the land.

And here begins our new tale….finally.


Who is he?

What’s his point of being?

Where does he hide?

What is he?

When did he appear?

So since my nan passed I’ve been soul searching alot, she was very religious and so my train of thought was to try and figure out about god.  I know, I hear ya, impossible!

I guess mourning does strange things to your mind.

However, I firmly believe that there is no such thing as God. I’ll tell you why. My issue is that the collection of books called the Bible tell of two very different versions of God.

One is a hateful, vengeful god hellbent on making men repent and sacrifice. Many atrocities appear in the old testament, infanticide, genocide, murder, blood sacrifice etc.  Now how can that be the good god we have come to know? 

But wait…

Here comes the sequels in the New Testament.  Now that God has chilled out abut he’s decided to save us, so he’s sending his son.  Still, atrocities happen but it’s God’s will and Jesus will be saving us anyway.

I can’t get my head around the Bible, it’s full of hate and love.  No wonder everyone’s confused.

It reminds me of George Carlin whe. He said there’s a man in the sky who watches over us all, he knows what you do and every sin.  He’s given us 10 specific things for us to obey and this man has a set a place aside for us in case we don’t obey.  This place is full of fire and brimstone, demons and torture for now until the end of eternity…but he loves you!  And he wants your money, he can’t handle money.

So basically I’m not going after any religious organisation, I’ve been raised in organised religion and I don’t recommend it.

Many questions came to mind when I went soul searching.  How is there so much suffering in the world? Where are the miracles?  Where are the powers of God? Why are good people dying and evil people roaming free? Why is money ruling everything?

Does anyone have any answers to my questions? Who? What? Where? When?

This House

This house is not a house…it’s a memory bank. 

Each day I spend in my Nans house I get nostalgic and sorrowful, sad that soon it will be sold and the future memories end in my own personal history.

Maybe I’m being foolish, perhaps selfish but when I look back over my life the memories this house invokes is overwhelming.

The many meetings of Nan and Grandad, the Uncles and Aunties, the grand children, the great grandchildren, the nieces and nephews…the weddings, baptisms, Christmases and all manner of celebrations.  And the horrid funerals.

The dogs that had passed through the years of the house, my personal childhood dog was Rex who I used to sleep with at the top of the stairs and sometimes sneak into his kennel.

The endless summers and funny times, the sad times and the happy times.  

As the world turned, memories were burned into my mind.

My granda making me fry ups late at night, the old black and white films. The jokes we played.  I love the house and the safety it brought.

Now those days are ending as my Nan passed and now it will be sold. I am absolutely devastated but I can take solace in the fact that no one could ever sell my memories. 

And for that I am grateful.

RIP Nan and Granda

I will cherish the time together in that house.

The Death Of Bruce Delaney : Chapter 2 : The New Eyes

Bruce followed his eldest son out the hospital wing, he who had looked after him for so long in his old age. The tears streaming down his son Donald’s face, he was anguished and torn apart by the grief.

If Bruce could tell him he would tell him to “man up” or “stop being such a wally”.  

Suddenly without warning Donald looked to his right where Bruce stood and held his are out. Bruce put his hand over his sons and suddenly Donald’s body was glistening and sparkling.

Donald never noticed or showed surprise at this so Bruce assumed it was just for his eyes.  His son let out a little snicker.

“Don’t be a wally” he said aloud sobbing and smiling through the anguish. Bruce smiled and let out a little giggle, he knew his son would be OK.

His son slumped to the ground and kept crying, his hand over his head as if to hold the grief up that dragged his head down.

He could hear voices far away, children’s voices asking “Where’s Grumpy Granda?”.  The voices he knew were Donald’s two small children, he would miss them alot. They had his cheeky ways and a good sense of humor.

A little hand touched Bruce’s, right next to Donald’s slumped body was a little girl no less than eight years old.

“My daddy misses me very much!” she said putting her arms around Donald. “If only he knew how lovely and pretty it is! I miss him and my mummy too, they will have fun with me when they get here”.

Bruce was in shock at the little girl, her hair in curls and little bows going up and down in plaits. Her blue dress immaculate complete with pure white socks and little shiny blue shoes.

“Maria?’ Bruce asked.

“Yes I’m Maria, at least I think so. I’m waiting for my daddy so I can get my new name” the little girl giggled and smiled. She twirled like a ballerina, full of fun.

Bruce thought of this little girl, 8 years ago Donalds wife Sarah had a baby.  The baby was delivered but was still born, her name was Maria.  The same little girl he was speaking to right now.

The little girl looked at her daddy, her smile evaporated and became thoughtful. She looked at him and then to Bruce. 

“He misses us lots and lots grandpa” she looked a little sad “he doesn’t know how happy we all will be!” her sweet voice stated.  the smile was back and she twirled and giggled.

Bruce could not help but wrap his arms around the little girl and hugged with all his might. how precious and beautiful she was, with tears in his eyes he smiled. he was coming to terms with his new life.

“I wouldn’t be too happy if I we’re you!” snarled a voice, Bruce stood up and put Maria behind him. he saw a black cloud just near the far wall where the room Bruce died.

Snarling like a dog emitted from this cloud. Maria came out from behind Bruce’s back.

“It’s the bad people grandpa.  don’t worry, you are safe” her voice confident.

A long arm came out of the cloud with sharp talons and spikes that looked like hair. it laughed maniacally and cursed obscenities.

Donald shook from his sobbing and stopped concentrating, the creature whispered negative things and Bruce saw that Donald was agreeing as if they were his own thoughts.

He started hitting himself in despair, the creature laughed as it’s arm came ever closer to Donald.  it’s full body was emerging from the black cloud, Bruce saw horns and gnashing teeth. Red eyes glowed with hatred and malice.  Bruce went forwards, he instinctively had to protect his son.

As Bruce walked forward the dark cloud shuddered, the demon fixed it’s eyes on him.  it started to swipe at him but could not touch Bruce, it seemed he was protected. it spat at him many times and cursed obscenities once again.

The cloud was getting smaller and Donald had stopped hitting and believing the demons lies.  the demon roared one final time and was gone as soon as Bruce got to it.

“You’re brave grandpa! I love you!” Maria yelled excitedly.

“Thank you Maria, I love you too!” he ran to her and picked her up, the twirled around and around the hospital wing. Her dad unknowingly saved from the forces of evil.  

Maria left him a few hours later to go explore the world. Bruce wanted to see the other family members, he dreaded if another demon appeared.

The Death Of Bruce Delaney : Chapter 1 : The End

The hospital bed was cold and damp, a man lying still on it, his sweaty body was dying after 86 years of life on earth. A shell of a man now lying upon this cold hard bed in possibly the most sterile place in the universe. His eyes looked heaven ward and his breathing shallow. He knew his time on this mortal coil was coming to an end.

Surrounding this old man were his 3 daughters and 2 sons, all sobbing and sniffing in torment. His heart breaking at their grief and silently screaming in his head that he loved them all, hoping they would hear his thoughts as he could not speak. The throat cancer had taken away his communication, he wept.

The heart monitor beeping monotonously, irritating him as if each beat were a countdown to his death. He could feel himself slipping, his eyelids heavy, he chuckled inside thinking of the moment fast approaching. Death. Funny he thought to himself, I’d never thought I’d go like this, his memory went back to heavy drinking days and close shaves with the moment approaching. Death.  The Many cigarettes he had, he could almost smell the aroma of smoke surrounding him.

He gazed at his family one last time and closed his eyelids, the last time he would see this life. With a silent farewell and a roll of his eyes, he went to sleep peacefully. A feeling of calmness overwhelmed his entire being and his soul released instantly as the heart monitor made the continuous beep. Bruce opened his eyes, younger eyes…eyes that could see clear and bright. He looked at his hands, young hands! his new body looked transparent but glistened against light and he saw his old hand through the new.

He got out of bed and stood looking at the door, a doctor shaking his head as he walked out. He felt the Doctor was stricken with grief, but a different kind, a feeling of failure and compassion for his family. He felt sorry for the Doctor and didnt realise how much of a burden a job could be.

 Bruce turned back around and there was his old shell of a body lying in that cold bed. It looked like old clothes that had been dirty and filthy with all sorts of disease, his new body was fresh and light.  His mind went through all sorts of scenarios and he started getting flashbacks of his life.

It lasted what seemed a minute but he had reviewed his entire life under one minute, every thought in 86 years! Hos concentration was broken when he looked at his old body again.

His family sobbing harder and freely, absolutely grief stricken and tormented with regrets and heartbreak. He was astounded at the scene and briefly saddened, he shouted “I’m here! Don’t worry!”
His family did not hear of course and he felt sad, if only they knew how close they were to eachother! He approached them all and put his hand on each of their heads and kissed them. He cried with their pain and embraced their heavy heart. His old body laid motionless with eyes closed and no breath escaping, he was truly dead and worried about what happens next. For now though he wanted to be near them but something was drawing him away that he couldn’t resist.

“Farewell, my children!” he tearfully said “I shall wait for you to come to me!” He started to rise onto the air, floating slowly.

“Bruce!” a voice came from the doorway, a man stared back at him. A very kind man with a golden shine around his body. Long brown robes flowing as in a breeze, with a bright white belt around his waist. He held both his arms out, his bearded face smiled. “Come my long lost friend!” Bruce began to float down again slowly and walked towards the man.

Bruce knew the man but could not place him, he went straight to him and gave him a hug. The man emanated love and kindness, he also sensed that this man had a wicked sense of humour. Unconditional love poured out of this man.

Something clicked in Bruce’s mind, he looked away as if searching, he looked at his family grieving over his shell of a body. He looked back at the man with tears in his eyes. A realisation of who this man was.

“I’m so sorry for how I treated you Joseph” his tears fell as he recognised a long lost friend of his youth “I didn’t realise what an idiot I could be”.

“Hush! we have no hate in this next phase of life, do not worry. Know that I love you and that you need not fear. But please my name is not Joseph now, I have renamed myself Druzil”

Bruce nodded “So what happens now Druzil? where do I go?” he looked back at his family sadly “will they be OK?”.

Druzi nodded his head positively “Yes they will be fine in time,what will happen now is that you will stay with your family until you feel ready to move to the next level of life. there is no time limit, take all the time you need. you have eternity waiting for you” 

Bruce turned around and Druzil had gone.

A Little Bit About Grieving

My Nan passed away 2 days ago, Saturday 24th 2016 at 3:15.

Sounds official, sounds final.

At this current time with tears in my eyes i write with heartache and pain. Grief can be overwhelming but we must not forget that life is for living. Its to be cherished, all to often we take things for granted. Like frustration or impatience, intolerance and differences of opinion.

When it all boils down to it, we will all be in the same situation. A coffin.

Now, i dont actually know or claim to know what happens after we die. As frustrating as it is i have been grasping at straws trying to find answers which do not come at all.

My dreams are nothingness, my soul screams for it, my heart yearns for it and nothing comes. One thing for certain is that life is fragile, she was fine Friday and Saturday morning issues happened and the sad day when she gave up her fight.

I only write because i dont actually know what to do, im lost.

But i have a loving family who support each other and love. I feel my nan around me everywhere and i just hope there is an afterlife and we will be reunited with her and my grand dad.

For now, i dont know what else to say. Even writing this has tortured my soul and turned me into a sobbing mess.

Sleep tight nan.

Peace and Love!

Controversial Racial Post!

OK I’ve had it with them, warts and all. I’m sick of the flipping looting, pillaging, gangs of gits who promote violence, I’m sick of the murders and the cannabilastic traits they’ve been known for since men arrived on here.

I’m sick of the whole “race card” when they lunge at me or push me hard. I’m tired of their hatred for us and getting agitated because we attack them.

Who else are sick of these flipping goblins? Green slimy feckers.