The Very Thirsty Caterpillar

By Sam

 

Not on my watch.

We live in a cynical age; an age of recessions, racial tension and media spin. Once valuable children's books, like The Very Hungry Caterpillar, are being left behind. What sort of lessons are they teaching the nation's children? That caterpillar's become butterflies? Not your caterpillar sonny. Your caterpillar is becoming a chartered accountant with a wife who hates you and four kids with ADHD - and that's only if you're lucky. I think it's time we reimagined these out-dated children's books, and gave them a more realistic snapshot of contemporary society. I think they need to know what life is really like for little caterpillars these days.

The Very Thirsty Caterpillar

In the light of the moon lay a drunk caterpillar.

On Sunday morning - bluuuurg - the caterpillar awoke with a hangover and threw up on his clothes. He started to look for some booze.

The Best of the Best

 By Sam

It was 4:00pm and I was already passed out on the couch in a pool of my own gluttonous vomit. Chunks of partially digested pizza slid across my shirt and down towards my belly, as my body tried desperately to wheeze in enough oxygen to keep my pathetic carcass alive. It was fighting a losing battle against the half-kilo of cheese I had just stuffed down - and on - my face.

The gurgling sound of my snores was punctuated by the shrill ring of the telephone. I awoke with a loud obscenity, hitting the floor like a flesh wrapped sack of cheese, which was exactly what I was. I envied no man.

"What the hell?" I screamed at an unreasonably loud volume. "Who vomited my pizza all over me? And who pooped in my pants?"

The phone continued to ring, its insistent tone cutting through the fetid air.
"Why is there noise?" I shouted. "Jack make the noise stop!"
"No!" came a muffled reply from across the house. "Not until you take a bath, or at least stand out in the rain or something."
"No can do!" I replied seriously. "I need to keep up a certain level of filthiness to drive away Delta Goodrem. Seriously, she just won't take no for an answer."

"Delta Goodrem... the singer."
"Yeah sure!" I replied truculently. "Delta Goodrem has been stalking me because I'm so hot. Anyone who says that it's actually a bus driver named Frank is either lying or mad."

The Stuff of Nightmares

By Sam

I have a lot of pathetic nightmares. It's unclear why. Perhaps it's because I have a terrible diet; perhaps it's because I'm an atheist; perhaps it's because I'm the reincarnation of a Mayan priest. We'll probably never know. Whatever the cause, I've had some fairly weak nightmares in my time. Where some nightmares cause you to bolt awake in the dead of night, drenched in terrified sweat, these ones tend to quietly shake you awake and whisper "what the hell is wrong with you?". To illustrate my point I have decided to list four of the crappier nightmares I've had, along with an interpretation of their meaning by noted dream therapist Dr Velveeta Vandersplat:

Fridgepocalypse

I once had a dream about an evil fridge. It started with this one ominous fridge standing on its own, but as soon as I blinked there were suddenly fridges on either side of it, stretching as far as the eye could see. It slowly dawned on me that I was standing in a gigantic circle of evil sentient fridges. Also, we were in space

What it means (Dr Velveeta Vandersplat):

This dream tells me that Sam harbours a deep seated fear of modern technology. He has carried this sense of mistrust with him ever since a betrayal in his childhood. Most likely he was molested by a cartoon character, or possibly an electrician. Maybe his brain is just telling him it thinks he's really fat.

Animal Love

By Sam

 

If you had to fuck an animal, what animal would you choose? It's an important question that has plagued philosophers for centuries.

Now I know that some moral whingers will get all prudish on me and be all like “wah wah wah, sex with animals is wrong! They're dumber than we are, and they're ugly!” but I submit to you that their protests mask their hypocrisy. Some really ugly people look a lot like animals, and no one seems to protest when they have sex (as long as it's in the dark); and the police don't arrest people for having sex with Lindsay Lohan, even though she clearly has the brain of a parakeet.

It would be shallow of us to deny the pleasures of love to someone with Mickey Rourke's looks and Lindsay Lohan's brain, but the instant you label them with pigeon hole terms like “mountain gorilla” or “chimpanzee” suddenly I'm going too far. Well, I will be silent no longer. If we are to break the shackles of an unjust society it must be through open minded philosophical examination. To that end I present to you a list of five animals that you might consider having sex with, along with the pros and cons of my experience having sex with each:

French Poodle

Voulez-vous coucher avec moi pompoms?