A big pair of…

I was stationed at the information desk toward the end of the day. It was fairly mundane and nothing much happened until I found a Kinder Surprise toy that looked like it had a set of lady boobs. This was odd and I pondered why it had them.I was getting into it when a father and his young son approached the desk.

Jim: “Hi there! Do you sell posters?”

Me: “Yeah, they’re–”


Me: “What? Oh! To keep the all the seas in place.”

Jim: “Sorry, about that. He saw information above you.”

Me:” Ah, it’s grand. Now about those post–”


Me: “Eh, to keep everything in place.”

Jim: “So those posters?”

I look at Young Jim for a moment and pause before answering in case he shouts out another question.

I quickly give my response because Young Jim is about to say something–“Second floor!”

Young Jim: “WHAT’S–”

Jim: “Come on now! Thanks.”

The father and son depart and I sit back down wondering if the information I gave Young Jim was enough to quench his thirst for knowledge…probably not.

Anyway…I still haven’t figured out why the Kinder Surprise toy looked like it had lady boobs. # BaldManProblems

Water bass

Listening to the rain fall upon a surface can be therapeutic. I remembered this as I was listening to podcast on the bus and thought I would switch off and listen.

I hear the rain dance gently on the roof, it’s like light fingers tapping…intermingled with the drum ‘n’ bass pumping from the gentleman’s headphones who sits before me. 
# BaldManProblems

Oh, how it echoed!

Depending where you sit in the library determines what noises you hear. In one part of the library you can hear the moving of chairs, coughing, and the turning of pages. In another part there is a series of desks next to the wall of the toilet, that’s where I’m sitting. All I can hear is chairs moving, coughing, the turning of pages, and the sound of farts echoing from a toilet bowl. # BaldManProblems.

Do you hear that?

Her footsteps sounded like suction pads on the wooden floor as she approached me on the information desk. She was vertical challenged and peered over the top of the desk at me.

Jill: “Hi!”

Me: “Ah, hello there.”

Jill:” I’m looking for a right handed pen.”

Me: “Haha! That’s a good one. I never heard that one before.”

She glares at me.

Me: “Oh! You’re serious! Well…any pen would do the job.”

She’s unhappy with my response and snaps back–“I just want a pen to write with!”

Me: “Right, well you’ll have to venture upstairs for them so.”

There’s a slight pop from beneath her feet as she scampers off towards the stairs.

As I continue to sit at the desk I can feel her eyes burn into the back of my head as she passes on the stairs.

On a scale of one to odd that was an eleven. # BaldManProblems

Problematic Poetry 

Yesterday’s Bacon

Oh, how I bemoaned your momentary sojourn, You fickle follicle failing forever in Time’s trial; You fragile fibre full of fabricated fiction. Insight was given to me. I saw the signs, witnessed the barren, winter wasteland in familial settings; heard the laments of many from the mouths of angry lions. In my youthful ignorance I thought myself above such senile torment. What a fool! My time came to mourn the loss of mine. Aged two scores and one I felt myself succumb, all the while living in denial. But Fate smiled on and presented the first sign of silky derma; gifted me with a barren crown. Or was it a new style that was passed on? Could I make it my mine, allow it to define? Yes. I accepted this twist of faith. I rejoiced in perpetual purity.I embraced this barren crown and now live on with surety.