Comedy Capers – Page 3 – John Lee Taggart

June 14, 2015June 14, 2015

I LOVE JAR JAR!

I hope this doesn’t offend too many huge Star Wars fans out there; you know the die-hard types that actually put “Jedi” down as their religion on important forms, and hope to one day actually construct a real light saber in their garage workshop. I mean no harm, but please hear me out as I have a confession to make…

I LIKE JAR-JAR-BINKS. NO, SCRATCH THAT!

I FUCKING LOVE JAR-JAR-BINKS!

…phew. I feel so much better. Sorry about that…

You see, I was like you – I couldn’t stand him. I quite enjoyed the newer movies on the whole (it was my childhood after all), but where Liam Neeson and the huge array of new bad guys succeeded, the presence of Jar Jar Binks always threatened to give me high blood pressure. Yes, even at that young age. There was just something about being forced to watch an absolute moron stumble through scene after scene, which made me want to throw my milkshake and/or Lego blocks at the television. Every time I watched that part with the big fish on Episode I, I hoped…no, I prayed, that somehow the outcome would be different – that this time he would be ripped apart, while Qui Gon and Obi Won swam away holding up their middle fingers…unfortunately that’s not how video tapes work, and consequently didn’t ever happen.

But…I’m very happy to say I had a change of heart recently.

You see, there’s a child in my kindergarten class who really struggles, and I mean struggles. I actually think he has some kind of learning difficulty which has been either missed or totally ignored (I suspect the latter sadly), this of course is no laughing matter, so I try to give him extra help wherever and whenever I can. I even suggested that he stays behind a couple of days so I can give extra (unpaid) lessons in my spare break time. Long story short, I love this kid, because he’s an all-around amazing little dude.

Problem is, he reminds me of someone…everything he says is always “meeesaaa don’t like this”, or “meeesaaa want to come with you”, and “meeesaaa day startin pretty okey day”…okay fine, I made the last one up. But yeah, he speaks in unintentional ebonics – JUST LIKE MY OLD NEMESIS JAR JAR! But what’s more strange is that I don’t mind it so much, I correct his grammar and sentence structure, but it doesn’t annoy me…I certainly have no wish to see a huge alien fish eat him alive.

Maybe I’m more mature than I was? Hmmm…nah, definitely can’t be that.

So anyway, a couple of days ago I re-watched Episode I, for the first time in a long, long time (for errr, research), and you know what? I found him utterly charming and thoroughly amusing. There I said it!

I feel a little bad for the hate mail and packages of dog shit I sent George Lucas many moons ago. Oh well, you can’t change the past…right?

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

June 5, 2015May 1, 2016

KIDS MAKE ME SICK.

Kids make me sick. And, no, not just uncomfortable, or a little bit queasy – but down right, pit of the stomach, SICK. It’s just something that they do that can turn that “thank God it’s Friday!” feeling, into “thank God I didn’t eat a large greasy breakfast”…let me run you through Friday’s events real quick ~

So I’m sitting in my kindergarten class, going through one of the books – most of the kids say that it is “easy peas” (they’re Korean so cut them some slack on the misuse of the phrase!), however one of the boys struggles with learning difficulties, so I’m giving him a little bit of extra help. That’s when I hear the long whine that I hear about 3000 times a day (approximately): “Teeeeeeeaaaacccccherrr? Oh, Teaaaaaachhherrrr? Teeaaaaachherrr! TEAAAA-“

“Oh my GOH…WHAT?”

As I turn in a fit of rage (but still trying to maintain a pleasant kindergarten-esque smile), I see a horrendous sight. A six year old boy. With his arms outstretched, a crayon in each hand, has the squelchiest sick ever seen ALL down his front. He stares at me without blinking. I look him up and down, examining the new addition to his teddy bear t-shirt, in sheer disgust. This most certainly was not in the job description.

That’s when I suddenly realise I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it, so I walk around to his table, with as close to a reassuring face as I can muster. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you, WHOA, WOW”, that’s when I almost slide over on the mixture of rice(?) and carrot(?) that is right by his chair. So I pull him up without looking at it again and walk him out. (For some reason he still holds his arms out, holding the crayons, as if crucified in a state of shock).

I explain as best as I can to the assistant teacher outside, she nods and hands me some face wipes. FACE WIPES?! Perhaps I had some on my face? Did he projectile vomit all over me? Maybe I am in a similar state of shock, so I don’t realise? Not sure…oh no, scratch that! She’s gesturing that I should clean it up with them. Fantastic stuff. Thank God, it’s Friday.

So as I drag myself back into the room, which we can now refer to as, “THE PIT OF STENCH”, the other kids are going crazy, waving their hands over their noses at a frenetic pace and squealing in weird excitement; accompanied with the putrid smell, it is all making me very dizzy. Anyway, duty beckons – so begrudgingly I kneel down next to the specimen, I don’t want to seem like I’m scared of a little bit of…“URGAAAH” I yelp unintentionally…I’d forgotten just how gross the sight was. Of course onlookers think it is hilarious…I force myself on, and get out a few of the face wipes (like seriously though, what the hell?), and attempt to mop it up, I am of course, ill-equipped, and the sloppy goo seeps over the top of the wet tissue and floods between my fingers, “URGAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

I am now convulsing and retching uncontrollably, gasping for fresh air, only to be met with more of the same foul odor – again, onlookers think it is the funniest thing they’ve seen since Despicable Me 2.

“What’s wrong Teacher?” someone sniggers

“Well…I think that should be obvious – I am wiping up sick with my bare hands” I mutter,

“What Teaaaacher?”

I go for a change of tactic and pick up some of the sturdy flash cards we have for vocabulary, by chance it is “meat” and “story” that will be giving me a hand. I crouch back down and scoop it up, using meat as a makeshift plate and story as a knife to scrape it on to. (I’m basically the Bear Grylls of the kindergarten classroom.) I then push them together like the grossest Subway sandwich ever, and walk out of the classroom trying my best not to look at the contents of my hands. The assistant gives me a look that says something along the lines of “ohhhh, I would have did it…you have done it already? Oh, okay! Never mind!”

I decided to keep the offender out of playroom time, we sat and played on my phone quite happily. I was hoping he would be some kind of prodigy and beat my high score for me. He didn’t. But I didn’t let that get me down – thank God it’s Friday, right? Right. After the playroom time is up we all skip out and BLURAAAAGGGGGHHHH. Round two, all on a carpet this time.

Back in class again. (WHY ARE THEY NOT CALLING HIS PARENTS?) And we are trying to take it easy, coincidentally we are writing and drawing about good manners, I ask the offender for an example of polite etiquette – he answers “sitting nicely?” It’s a great answer! Isn’t it funny how we can always give good advice to each other, but don’t exactly follow it ourselves? Anyway, I digress.

It’s getting close to lunch time, it’s one of those watching the clock days.That’s when round three comes in, it’s exhausting to even recall it. And it’s putting me off my coffee even now, two days later. But to say it was explosive would be an understatement. This child is like four foot or something and he basically has a river of vomit flooding from his mouth, where is it all coming from? I’ll say it like this, I had time to look at every kid’s facial reaction in the time that it took for him to finish. I could see this was scarring them for life. Good to know I wasn’t the only one.

I picked him up with one arm and grabbed his bag with the other. I then told the assistant to call his Mother, immediately. I don’t like to come off rude ever…but the new reservoir of sick that I had in my classroom was starting to distract the others just a little.

For some reason, he was still sat there when I returned from lunch. Whatever happened to three strikes and you’re out?! He wanted to play, and call me a “silly Grandpa man” when his vomit was probably still under my fingernails. Come on man, have a heart.

And that is why kids make me sick.

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

May 31, 2015May 31, 2015

Scream Train

Public transport is a funny thing isn’t it? Not haha funny, but you know…weird. Odd. Strange. Often horrifying. That kind of funny – so not really funny at all I suppose, but still – often eventful…

I find the Seoul subway is actually quite tame for the most part, perhaps because I am comparing with the trains in my hometown…filled with youths attempting to use your face as a punching bag, and piss-smelling strangers trying to tell you their life story over their first morning beer. The Korean experience differs somewhat. People are just in their own personal space, on their phones or books – generally keeping themselves to themselves.

I’ve adopted this side of their culture; and consequently no longer punch people in the face, piss my pants, or have morning beer. So big pat on the back for me – hopefully I’ll never relapse. Instead I smile politely, pop in my earphones, and either play the Pokemon Fire Red emulator I have on my phone – or read the New Yorker articles I had bookmarked during the day (depends if I wake up feeling like a child, or an adult). Anyway, I basically blend in – as anything else would be breaking strict protocol…

So on my way home last night it was to my shock and horror that I heard a wild screaming match taking place (even over the top of some pretty blaring earphones!) It sounded shrill, rage-filled, and totally out of control…a domestic thing of some description – not my business, so I kept my back turned to it…but couldn’t help but peer into the small window of the door to catch a reflection of the drama…

But there was no heated argument, no back and forth; it was just one woman, clearly intoxicated – yelling, and cursing things out at random. She was middle aged, with greasy black hair draped over her dark sunglasses…I’m not quite sure she knew what she was saying, but my goodness was she going to say it anyway. As a result people were evacuating left, right and center, as if she was a mad hate filled hurricane one must get out of the way of as soon as humanely possible…meanwhile others were just staring at the floor, or glancing across nervously whenever they thought she wasn’t looking.

It was all very very polite, but was still very very weird.

I tried to tune into what her mad Korean ravings were actually about, if anything. I could make out that she wanted everyone to fuck off, and that everyone but herself was a massive prick (not her words, but her actual words were a little more harsh), but apart from that it was anyone’s guess. Until she caught sight of me in the door’s reflection.

That’s when I became the target, something about “English, English, English – fuck off is this Korea, or England?!” She was shouting and balling with such ferocity it was like dragon fire on my back…well, I was certainly sweating like it was anyway. My entire being was emblazoned red with embarrassment, and my palms were so moist with nervousness it was becoming difficult to even hold my phone. I slipped it into my pocket instead, and decided all I could do was do my time…stare at my feet like the others…and do my time.

Eventually she exhausted herself – or possibly ran out of offensive vocabulary to use against me, so switched and went back to telling the rest of the carriage to fuck off – instead as well as continuing to remind them all of the fact they are massive pricks, just in case they had forgotten. So back to the status quo then, that’s alright…

But oh no, the story doesn’t stop there my friends! Just as I thought it was over, out of nowhere a dwarf man…sorry – what’s the politically correct way to say that? Not midget I know that much, so let me Google it; smaller man, little person…ah – person of slight stature. Yeah anyway he popped up, and started to talk with her – trying to get her to calm down by a series of soothing tones, and a weird sort of shoulder massage thing (what a brave, and possibly stupid gent!) Unfortunately for whatever reason she didn’t take kindly to the treatment, and unleashed a frenetic and hate filled inferno of insults towards him – so loud that I thought the window screens would split and smash as a result…I couldn’t tear my eyes away – I thought at any second he was going to get a swift kick in the bollocks, or a fork to the eyeball.

Instead as her tirade continued, the man didn’t flinch at all…instead he chuckled broadly and then turned to face me with a wide smile and two over-enthusiastic thumbs up…A THUMBS UP!? IN THIS SITUATION MAN, LIKE…REALLY?!

Don’t bring me into this?! I’m just an English guy…an English guy in Korea!

She lost it upon seeing this – and was suddenly reminded of her beef with myself mere moments ago…I span back to staring at my shoes, as the rage echoed throughout the carriage once more. It was then that I realised she literally hadn’t stopped for breath ever since stepping foot on the subway…maybe she’d pass out soon, and give our ears a break…

Well it could have happened, but instead she stood up – gave one last mad Chewbecca warble, before pointing at myself and marching out at the next stop. Phew. I had been saved, and returned the thumbs up to my miniature hero a few minutes later upon finally reaching my station. Thanks my friend, I owe you one…

So that’s the story, just another day on public transport people, another weird, odd, horrifying – yet funny day. I’m suddenly very tired.

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

May 31, 2015May 31, 2015

Sex-O-Phone

It’s very common-place for a foreigner in Korea to be stopped, and chatted to by perfect strangers. After all there are many English learners, and even more individuals who are simply curious! And none are more curious than the elderly in Korea! Believe me!

To be honest because of this it’s actually pretty challenging to go anywhere on the subway and not find yourself in a conversation with a friendly wrinkly soul – well less of a conversation, and more just you sitting there as they reel off some of their pre-prepared English phrases or questions…some foreigners here find it very annoying, personally I think it’s cute, and endearing – so I always talk back…despite it often being a tale straight from Boresville…

Bless their hearts.

Sometimes it’s hard not to laugh though. Like once I had an old lady sit down with me, and she was instantly all smiles…so I returned the favor on cue, but could still feel the familiar redness flooding into my cheeks. “Awwww, Disney! Disney!” she chirped, massaging her own cheeks, while grinning broadly. I nodded and attempted a little nervous chuckle, as she disregarded my embarrassment and began to chat away eagerly…asking me my name, where I’m from, why I’m here, blood type…the usual introduction stuff…

“I play with sex-phone!” she announced randomly…

“Excu…excuse me?!” I asked, wondering if I had misheard or something…

“I play sex phone…with my husband, we play it…”

She smirked cheekily, and I swear she winked (maybe that was just in my head – BUT NO SHE DID IT, IT HAPPENED!) – anyway I wasn’t really sure what to say after the announcement, I mean good for her and her husband…but why is she telling me? No idea, so I just smiled back…and said something like, “errr that’s great…” The truth was there were now all kinds of weird images in my head, none which I particularly wanted…

As you can probably imagine it was an awkward few seconds after that, for me not so much for her – all I could do was squirm in my chair, pretend to read the subway map and wish that my journey would end soon…

It was then that she broke the silence…by suddenly making a “DOOOO-DOOOOO!” sound, whilst holding up her two hands as if playing a saxophone! “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” Suddenly it dawned on me…and everything was clear. Thankfully.

I’m a little slow sometimes, but get it eventually.

“I love the sex-phone! Well, bye!” she beamed – and with that she rose, and left, leaving me feeling rather silly indeed, still red with humiliation.

I truly hope she has fun with her husband – long may they play the saxophone together. And if they really want…the other thing…not my place to judge…but you know, don’t need to hear about it on a Monday morning subway ride…cheers in advance.

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

May 28, 2015May 28, 2015

The Shit Sandwich

Sometimes life doesn’t go smoothly. No sorry…let me rephrase that – life never goes smoothly. And you know what? That’s good! This is what makes life interesting in my opinion! The thrills, the spills! The highs, the lows! The laughter, the tears! All of this serves to add vibrant colour to life’s pages, and forges memories that make your short window of existence somewhat less dull. You see smooth would be boring. I mean look at peanut butter if you want further conclusive proof of that. It’s all about those nuts.

But sometimes that bumpy old road can take a horrifying turn; an unexpected pot-hole that has you crashing into the bowels of the earth…into the fiery brimstone of hell, where all evil resides, and all horrors of the underworld come out at once to strip you bare and thrash you – cutting into you with ragged daggers, and pouring vinegar into your open wounds whilst playing anything off the top ten, over, and over, and over. I’m speaking metaphorically of course, I just got a little bit too into it – my apologies – but hopefully you get the picture ~

“Shit happens” – as the rather detached and emotionless expression goes. That probably sums it up a little bit more coherently. And my goodness me, the aforementioned shit certainly does make an appearance every so often. Like last Thursday for example…I was notified that a debt collection company was calling my school, asking if I was still in the country as they were hunting me down – something about an unpaid phone bill. So the day after (just before leaving for Japan) I went into the store with my Korean friend to ask what was going on. After all I don’t even use the phone’s calling plan anymore, my now ex-girlfriend cancelled it MONTHS ago.

Well yeah, about that…

It had been rolling on, and on, and on…and had been stopped only for a short window – before continuing with it’s destructive course like a giant tumbling Indiana Jones boulder…my jaw was hanging open, my eyes dumb with confusion. I could barely believe the situation. Rather desperately we had to make a call to the external debt collection people as it was no longer on the phone company’s books – in fact some Korean guy is now using my old phone number, which is nice…I like recycling…yeah, but anyway when my friend rang up they let him know in no uncertain words that it was the last day for me to pay – or they would be sending the police around to my door, in order to eject me from the country, never able to return again. EXILE…pretty cool right? In like Game of Thrones or whatever…but in real life, kind of a bummer. A life ruiner, if you will.

He pleaded with them. There was no way I could pay whatever costs the whole palava had accrued…I mean, we were on our way to Japan! Literally on the airport shuttle bus! We would be back on Monday if they could find it in their hearts to wait…well, thankfully upon hearing this they gave us till Tuesday morning – and we were able to breathe a sigh of relief. Only momentarily though. As when I read the total cost ($830) I was instantly back to puffing, and panting like a dying asthmatic Darth Vader.

My Korean friend called it “a shit sandwich” – an expression he had probably picked up watching US movies (this is how he taught himself English), but in all honestly I don’t agree. After all a shit sandwich implies there would be bread, perhaps some salad, or extra sauce involved, maybe even a side dish – not just the shit filling. Bits I would sort of enjoy. So no, this wasn’t a shit sandwich – this was just a complete and unadulterated humongous turd. With absolutely no garnish. Thanks life.

But the wheels keep turning, and the clock keeps ticking – this hiccup just means I have to do some extra work in order to afford my July/August trip to Thailand (TBC)…and there are so many who have it so much worse, so I am not wasting time moaning or complaining…after this post of course! This is my therapy.

So wish me luck my friends, and I hope you are having a somewhat smooth ride today – but at the same time there better be some nuts in there too…it would be bland without them.

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

May 20, 2015

Arguments with Children

Arguments with children…I don’t know why I even allow myself to be suckered in – EVERY SINGLE TIME. Perhaps it’s some kind of vague ambition to truly educate, and make a difference…so that years in the future the now fully grown child reminisces and admits:

“He was right! I’m so thankful he steered me in the right direction at such a young age…I will have to find him and give him renumeration in the form of a cash lump sum…after all I am now a billionaire thanks to him!”

Or you know, words to that effect. Basically I think there is a rather paternal instinct present in me which seeks to sculpt young minds in a positive way; perhaps impart some wisdom accrued from experience, and whatever else…I’m not saying I’m Yoda (after all my face doesn’t quite resemble a ballbag to the same degree), but I am certainly living with the belief I can create more Jedis than Sith…

Yeah…what he said!

But it’s not as easy as all that. There are always curveballs with children – you can’t ever take anything for granted, you can never just assume ANYTHING; how did you get ice cream in your eyeball? Why did you put my sunglasses in the toilet? Why are you about to jump out of the window? Why did you…well the list is infinite, so I’ll stop right there – hopefully you get the picture, which is that they are little maniacs at the best of time.

So how do you try and teach life lessons to those who would rather discuss smelly socks? Well with great difficulty, obviously.That doesn’t stop be from trying though, although it probably should – you see I have already had two separate arguments this week, each lacking in logic of any kind – but both ending in myself being ridiculed, and jeered for being an absolute moron (바보).

I had initially estimated both scenarios to be sterling opportunities to give some important guidance to the younger generation; the first being of the utmost importance (the plot of The Lion King), and the second a lot less pressing but still kind of necessary I suppose…(where babies come from)…

Concerning The Lion King, we were looking at animals in my kindergarten class…and then having a bit of a debate about which animals we liked, and which we didn’t – some people were big fans of snakes, some enjoyed gorillas, others tigers…it was an all-inclusive zoofest up in that classroom! Until I chimed in…“My favourite is the lion! He’s the king of the animals!” – cue tumbleweed, and bitter stares…should go without saying I immediately regretted voicing my stupid opinion.

“NO. LION NOT GOOD.” barked the entire population of the class…well, I was a little taken aback – but I reinforced my reasons which I felt were legitmate – “NO! NO! LION NO KING.”

I calmly asked them if they had ever watched the film The Lion King – they all nodded that they had – “you see…the film is called ‘The Lion King’ – because the lion…is the king!” I thought that I had put it across in a simple enough way, that the kids could surely rec – “NO JOHN TEACHER, LION NO KING!”

I should have just left it. I should have…I know I should have, but I didn’t. I lost my cool – “RIGHT…in the film there is a big lion, yes? And he is the king. The film is called ‘THE LION KING’ – because he is THE LION, KING! THE LION IS THE KING OF THE ANIMALS!” they glared back at me, all four of them…until someone broke the silence; “the monkey is king. Grandfather king.” – everyone began to agree, and nod frantically before suddenly breaking into laughter, and sarcastically patting me on the back as if to say “you were wrong, but never mind.”

YOU SERIOUSLY CAN’T REASON WITH THAT SMUG LOT.

The second argument came around today. And started off when for some bizarre reason a young boy asked me if I would rather have rabbits, or a rabbit. You get used to these seemingly inane questions when teaching kindergarten – and I find myself just answering without much hesitation or thought; “RABBIT! Just one…” As always with kids I was asked why, and I gave my reasoning which was that rabbits together have so many rabbit babies, and it can be like a mad house! Such a horribly boring adultish response, man I hate myself for even coming out with it, but nevermind.

“JOHHHHHNNN TEEEEEAAAACHER! SILLY, SILLY!” he crowed, in an imitation of the voice I use when they make a spelling mistake, or drop their snack on the floor. “BOY RABBIT, GIRL RABBIT OKAY! HAHA – JOHNNNN TEEEEAAAACHHHHERRR!”

He went on to explain in detail how stupid I was, and why I was wrong in every way possible – I was under the false impression that daddy rabbits and mammy rabbits fall in love and then babies are dropped off by the stork, or whatever – but Daniel educated me in the truth and totally opened my eyes to the fact that rabbits are only trouble when you have the boys together – that’s how you get babies after all…

“But Daniel…you have a Mommy, and a Daddy…where did you come from?”

His mouth fell open a little, and his eyes peered around in confusion…as I waited patiently for the penny to eventually drop. But it didn’t.

Instead he shook his head and yelled…“JOHNNNN TEEEEACHER, SILLY, SILLY”…and wandered off to get his chocolate milk, whilst chuckling to himself.

There’s always next time…one day…one day…

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

April 20, 2015

Poo-Poo Monkey

You know…the unfair thing about playing with kids is…well, it’s unfair.

You enter into the game like any other – thinking it will be a level playing field (because that’s how games should be right?!) but you quickly find it will be anything but. Like today I was instructed I was a “Poo-Poo Monkey” that was running amuck in a nearby zoo, and needed to be eliminated for poop crimes. I have no idea where this story came from, or even what exactly poop crimes are…but one can assume they are not good, or at the very best – very messy.

But you know what? I didn’t fuss, or fight it – I decided to take on the role as best as I could…like an actor who is just starting out, hungry and desperate to impress; I thought maybe if I do a good believable rendition of the Poo-Poo Monkey perhaps later I would be able to demand better, more prestigious roles! What can I say?! Gotta be positive, we only get one life after all!

However on the strength of today’s scenes the possibility is looking less, and less likely. To my disappointment it was just fifteen minutes of pure poop-filled carnage; me running around, getting pulled to the ground by eight grasping weirdly strong hands, having my clothes stretched out of size, and subjected to a constant stream of foul putrid gas. Beyond unprofessional working conditions!

Oh, but no! The stench was always blamed on me…because I was the Poo-Poo Monkey! Totally unfair stereotype…just because of my name I was being tarred immediately with every negative connotation that can occasionally be attributed to folks of that sort. (If they weren’t fictional creations of course!)

My main problem despite the blame-game was the odor itself…I mean…I just didn’t understand – what the hell are these kids eating?! It was like what I imagine old people’s homes smell like. If I had to give a rough recipe I would say…sardines? In vinegar. Burnt. Then rotten eggs swirled into the mixer for good measure. Oh yeah, and a dash of Nutella.

You can see how frequent this must happen, seeing as though I practically have a cookbook in the works! What is my life? This wasn’t in the contract anywhere…

Well now it is written – life isn’t fair, especially when it comes to games with the little’uns! SO yes…now for better or worse, you all know it. Go spread the word, and never agree to play the Poo-Poo Monkey…it’s just not worth it!

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

April 17, 2015

Lost Child

Gotta tell you this one real quick…it’s a story I was told just yesterday – drama central over here trust me!

So there’s a larger school near the kindergarten I work at…and the parents are up in arms at the moment – full pitchfork and flaming torches kinda deal (well you know, metaphorically!) …news travels fast here with a dedicated community of Mothers in place to spread stories, as and when necessary! And boyyyy, is it necessary!

Usually such upset is over trivial matters…but the latest is pretty ridiculous I have to admit, and the uproar levels are definitely justified; let me cut to the chase…one of the students (five years old I think) was on the school bus home…when he decided to have a little snooze! I mean, there’s nothing better right? You wake up, and you are at your destination! Perfect!

Ingeniously he decided to stretch out over a couple of chairs for maximum comfort! And slowly but surely the bus made its way around the student’s homes…and before long there was no one in it ! Apart from the driver, and that little sleeping chap in the back of course…

Well the driver wasn’t the most screwed on fella in the world (it seems) – because he eventually finished his usual route, did one little look back and saw no one…so then proceeded to drive the bus to the school’s shelter and head on out into the night! Naturally an hour or so later the boy woke up to nothing but darkness, wondering just where the hell he was!

Thankfully the door of the bus was open – so the petrified boy was able to free himself from his prison…but that only meant he was in a strange place, with no idea how to get home. It’s basically the kindergarten version of The Shawshank Redemption. Poor lad. So all he had left in his arsenal was to wander these unfamiliar streets, whilst crying out loud. This went on for an hour or so apparently.

Finally the police asked him what the hell was going on. Or words to that effect I imagine! And were able to get in touch with his parents…who were freaking out. Like Drake getting kissed by Madonna levels of freaking out.

Anyway, important info is – he’s coming to our school now! Feels kind of intriguing, he has an air of something about him…he is the boy who lived! Not quite Harry Potter, but definitely someone with a story to tell…just think of the things he must have seen on that detour of his! The bus seats…the pavement…the…well okay, it’s bland when I put it like that!

But come on! HARRY POTTER IS COMING TO OUR SCHOOL! REJOICE!

In unrelated news, we now have a strict seat-belt policy for the kids, and a final check procedure when the bus is finishing its route. But as I say…totally unrelated.

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

April 7, 2015

Alarm Clock Hock

I used to be awoken by alarm clock every day, like just about everyone the world over…it’s annoying little chime would rudely awake me from my peaceful rest in slumberland, and bring me back to the real world with a grunt and a grimace. However now this routine has became somewhat defunct:

No longer needed!

You see now my new neighbour (who lives just below) wakes me up instead. This is not an improvement by any means. After all he doesn’t come to my door with breakfast, or gently jostle me from my sleep with a good morning tune, or send in some chirping songbirds…no. Instead he wakes me by riving his window open with tremendous force, hocking (by which I mean drawing all of the saliva, and bogies from the back of his throat) a couple of times – and then slamming the window shut so hard that it shakes the entire apartment complex…it’s every single morning with the same visceral middle ages type sound:

“HUUUURRRRRLLLCCCCK! HURRRRRRRLLLLCCCCCK! ARGHHH, ARGHH ~Short sniffle break~ HUUUURRRRRLLLCCCCK! HURRRRRRRLLLLCCCCCK!” (Spit, and repeat up to four times)

“DON’T YOU HAVE A BATHROOM?!” I often find myself screaming out in desperation to the nothingness, to which there is never any reply – I mean it’s 6:30am why would anyone be up apart from Mr. Fucking Saliva; the early bird who is also a dirty worm…

We are yet to meet each other. My imagination is working overtime.

It’s that old chestnut – not knowing what you have until it’s gone. I think back to when I would complain about that annoying polyphonic mobile tone – but now I can’t see how I used to have the audacity! I reckon my blood pressure has gone up twofold since his arrival. In fact it feels like one of those cartoon thermometers every time…rising up rapidly until the glass at the top shatters! Yes, that’s how my day starts…as stressed out, and pissed off as poor old Coyote – except there’s no Road Runner high-jinx involved. Just “HUUUURRRRRLLLCCCCK! HURRRRRRRLLLLCCCCCK!”

If I didn’t spend a couple of hours with the cheeriest of chaps after this, it may be able to affect my day for the worst…but thankfully all the singing, dancing, and I’ll be honest blood-curdling screams takes my mind off it!

Till the next morning of course. “HUUUURRRRRLLLCCCCK! HURRRRRRRLLLLCCCCCK!”

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

April 4, 2015April 6, 2015

Pee, and Pornography

I was chatting with a friend just the other day over dinner, when she told me a story of how she had endured a horrendous flight littered with visa complications – and vigorous crosschecks! Just my kinda story, right?! Anyway this led me to tell her of my last flight…which I think I didn’t share with you at the time!

…the tale takes place some time in January of this year – as I was on route from a lovely Christmas spent in England, back to the land of the morning calm: South Korea. The flight is a monster, but a necessary evil…I can’t sleep on flights at all, so it’s basically just a day of watching movies…oh and looking around at everyone else who is well and truly conked out as if in a witch’s spell…

Which I suppose is kind of amusing at first, but 12 hours later…six movies in…not so much. Anyway the flight in question was pretty normal in that respect – I had the distinct honour of being nestled in between two people; a hefty Chinese chap, and a young very smiley Chinese lady. For obvious reasons there wasn’t going to be much conversation, a few head nods here and there perhaps…pointing to the food, and giving a thumbs up (maybe), but no actual words. Which is fine with me ordinarily. But as you may already know…messages don’t always have to be sent by a flexing of your vocal chords alone…no, no – a picture is worth a thousand words…

…you see I was already a little uncomfortable thanks to the chunky overzealous arms of my new friend to the left – but he had finally fallen asleep watching an Adam Sandler movie so I had a bit of respite! But I was far from off the hook, as to my right there was still some rather odd activity going on…the young lady was on her phone which I wasn’t paying attention to – until she was sitting there holding it at a strange angle – the kind of angle you would use if you said “hey, check out this video of a cat punching a dog!” or “look at this picture of my Dad eating a pie!” …or – okay the list is endless, and I think you get it. So naturally I looked, what was she even trying to show m-

OH, WAIT. Erm, I see…at the end of her outstretched hand was a rather lurid mobile phone screensaver – to say it caught my eye is an understatement! I’ll stop skirting the issue, and just come out with it – It was a picture of a caucasian gentleman and his Asian lady friend getting rather fond of each other in a kitchen. I didn’t know where to look, and didn’t want to make it obvious I had just caught sight of it…so allowed my gaze to continue to the window, thinking that perhaps I could pretend that’s where I was looking all along…just staring blankly out of the glass, like the school days…

…but that wasn’t enough for her, she propped her arm up in my way, and opened the lock screen of the phone, to reveal a second wallpaper, with a similar kind of theme. I nodded, and gave one of those “ahh, I see!” forehead raising movements, before desperately busying myself with the movie menu screen in front of me ~

Whilst she flicked through her gallery of pictures.

We got over that little hump, and back to our polite manners when eating together – eventually I couldn’t hold it any longer, and needed to pee. I hate asking people to stand up, but I had been forcing it to the back of my mind for so long! So I gently nudged the guy, and asked if I could get past – “hmmm, NO.” He retorted, before pulling his sleeping mask over his sweaty face, and crossing his arms. Well I certainly hadn’t expected that…I asked again, but got no answer – so told myself I could probably wait another movie, after which I would probably violently stamp over him to urinate . Something to look forward to if you will! How long can you last John, let’s find out!

But you see great minds think alike! So the girl needed to go too…she did a similar nudge to me to get past – to which I explained about the immovable force blocking the way, she tried to get his attention by flicking him which I thought was odd, and even spoke in Chinese – but nothing. So she opted to climb over everyone instead. Perhaps it was all part of a master scheme, an amazing rouse that the guy was in on, but she suddenly became oh so clumsy…tripping over in some mad slapstick routine which always ended with her sitting on me. Like actually sitting on me – I’ll let you visualise it I’m not going to describe, you have imaginations, use them. However after this little bit, she slid majestically past sleeping beauty with no problem at all!

Strange that, huh?

Anyway, there is a happy ending to all of this – she woke him up coming back, so I was able to use this window of opportunity to use the bathroom myself. And it will go down as one of the best pees of my life. Waiting makes things more special my friends, remember that.

www.facebook.com/storytimewithjohn

www.youtube.com/storytimewithjohn101

Please buy my collection of stories! Get it in paperback here – or on Kindle here! ALL proceeds go towards Macmillan Cancer Support!

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: