Culinary Tomfoolery 

I have recently been on the receiving end of a new fad which seems to be spreading like wildfire through the delicatessens of the land. This is the strange act of placing a napkin underneath the cake as it is served. This results in a gooey, unusable napkin; a paper covered cake and the need to fetch a new napkin with which to clear up the inevitable fallout. 

So I have no choice but to resort to badly written poetry to fight back against this most heinous of acts. 
You can have your cake and eat it (but you’ll have to pick the napkin off first)

Why is my napkin served under my cake? It is clearly no longer of use

It’s a phenomenon that I struggle to take, I’m sorry to sound so obtuse

But finding my napkin pre-soiled is annoying, who are you trying to impress?

This new presentation technique technique your employing will only end up in a mess

I pick up my cake for the napkin removal and peel the damned thing from the base

As people watch on with distinct disapproval and crumbs fall all over the place

The napkin now tears so I pick off each piece, with buttercream under my nails

Searching despondently for inner peace (a task which inevitably fails)

Now I need a fresh napkin to clean off my fingers, the one you provided’s destroyed 

As I take my first bite animosity lingers, I’m saddened, upset and annoyed 

You see… ‘desserts’ backwards is ‘stressed’ (which I am, and now crying a little inside)

In future I think that it might just be best if my napkin is served on the side 


Feminism + Bicycles + Fiction — How You Can Help Support One or All

Sounds like this is going to be great!

Leigh's Wordsmithery

blog_feminist-family-bicyclingMy Feminist Family on the Prairie (yes, men can be feminists, too)

Believe it or not, there is a connection between feminism, bicycles, and fiction. Witness the fiction anthology Biketopia: Feminist Bicycle Science Fiction Stories in Extreme Futures from Microcosm Publishing, an anthology now in its fourth incarnation. I am proud to be an author in the fourth Biketopia, and I’ve got a favor to ask on behalf of all the authors and the publisher.

But first, a little bit about the latter. Microcosm Publishing, whom you can find on Duotrope, on their Web site, and all around the social media sphere, occupies a subversive publishing space—if feminism, LGBT rights, veganism, mental health, and a punk attitude qualify as such. Book titles upcoming or already published by this Portland, Ore., company include: Trump: A Graphic Biography; Cats I’ve Known; Out of the Basement: From Cheap Trick…

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Ink-ore! Ink-ore!

And so, at long last, my Kerner/Rorschach Tribute Haiku Series draws to a close.If there are any psychiatrists out there who fancy a pop at telling me what it all means then feel free to send me your professional opinions!

No. 10

Rorschach blot 10.jpg


Of animals in Paris

Fanned by blue warthog


On the bl-ink

So, we are down to the final three and they start to get a bit more colourful from here. I would definitely go to a zoo which had laser firing, Walkers cheese and onion eating tigers. And a butterfly house.

Rorschach blot 08.jpg

Two mutant tigers

Firing lasers, eating crisps

On a butterfly


The Ink-redibles

So, after a brief hiatus, I am now ready to dedicate my every waking moment to bringing you Part 2 of my Kerner/Rorschach Tribute Haiku Series. I struggled a bit with this one but my recently begun mission to re-watch every X-Files episode has been a source of useful inspiration here. I am sure Spielberg and Cameron will be fighting over the rights to this…

No. 6

Rorschach blot 06.jpg

Movie poster for:

‘Skinny Alien Sheriff

and Flying Rabbit’



Breakfasts should be seasoned not herbed…

I don’t want herbs on my breakfast 

It’s something that should not be done 

No garnish is needed upon bacon bap

(or muffin, roll, barmcake or bun)

Although controversial, I quite like to have

My hash browns swapped out for some chips

But scatter no rosemary upon the top

Or they shall not be passing my lips!

A sausage that’s simple and meaty

For breakfasting roles can’t be beat

Please don’t use Lincolnshire or Cumberland 

I do not want herbs in my meat

I don’t want snipped chives sprinkled on my fried egg

Or chopped parsley framing the scene

It’s almost as bad as one’s toast being spread

Not with butter, but cheap margarine 

Tarragon should be gone from my mushrooms 

Basil is banned from my beans

It’s oregaNO for my grilled tomato

On my breakfast, herbs should not be seen

So, please don’t put herbs on my breakfast

It’s not ‘gastro’, not ‘posh’ and not nice

Just ketchup or brown sauce, a dusting of salt

Black pepper’s fine too; it’s a spice

I have an inkling…

My apologies for the barrel scraping puns, and I’m only halfway through! I struggled a bit on this because it looks like a bat or a butterfly and very little else. Here goes though:

No. 5

Rorschach blot 05.jpg

Large caterpillar

Bird-headed ballerina

Hidden crocodiles


The Artful Splodger

In the hope that these posts are flying under the radar of any psychologists, and thus keeping me out of the padded cell, I bring you number 4 in my Kerner/ Rorschach tribute haiku series:

No. 4

Rorschach blot 04.jpg

Cloaked fox on sofa

Is offered some cowboy boots

By a large housefly


Commuting observations in seventeen syllables.

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