Pancakes & Cameras


I have come up with a cunning way of making some money.

What? Tell me how! Now! Now! NOW!

Well, a little background if you please? Thank you.

Well, there I was sitting at the table happily eating my pancakes (Pancake Day Woo hoo! Yeah! Alright…) when my faithful moggy Loken started to tug on my leg. Again, no that is not code for some feline wank fest. Jeez…

I eventually relented and teased him by holding a small piece of my delicious pancake mere inches from his slavering gaping mouth. He began to nash his teeth and I don’t know maybe because I was scared I dropped it. It fell onto the end of his nose and he recoiled his head backwards at the same moment it made contact with his face. It was so funny. For a split second it looked as if he had a really, really heavy piece of pancake on his face that was forcing his head down between his shoulder blades. Truly awesome.

Anyway, if only I’d had a camera available to capture that split second. It was worth it just for the fact he scrunched his face up into a sneer and was staring at the pancake cross-eyed. Fucking ace.

There is no way I can ever repeat that moment. Believe me I tried. Furthermore, as you can never have a camera on standby with you like all the time I have come up with a novel solution.

I give you the Third Eye…

Wouldn’t this be great? You’d have to wear it all day obviously but I dunno with a few tweaks it could be the next “Alice Band”  or something.

I envisage it with a pull cord or maybe like it’s somehow linked to your thoughts. Fantastic.

Also, with a few minor adjustments it could double as personal protection device. Yeah! You heard me. I mean, it’s probably only got like a one bulb for a tiny flash but….. what if you modified it so that it had like a hundred hidden bulbs. Then, if you were gonna be mugged or something you could zap em! Imagine that. He’d think the fucking world had exploded or something, and as he’s rolling round on the floor wondering why he’s got a crisp for a face and no eyes you could quietly make your escape.

Anyway, I must away. Apparently there is pancake all over the dining room floor and its my job to clean it up? Mine?!

Loken… you’re so bloody ungrateful.

M 🙂

Author: Mark S Thompson

Okay, so these things are kind of hit and miss. If you’re reading this then I am thankful to you for taking the time out of your day to do so. I’ll be honest, when I think of myself as a writer, I kinda cringe. Don’t get me wrong, it is the dream, it's​ just I never really believe it will go anywhere. When I think back to the day that I first knew I loved writing, and I mean really knew, I see myself sitting in an English lesson at secondary school. The school was called Wrotham and is in the county of Kent, England. As far as I know, it's still there. English was far and away my favourite subject. The best bit was when the teacher gave the class a selection of words and asked us to make up a story that either contained those words or was about those words, you know. At other times we would be given the first sentence and then write what happens next. Good times. Many times my work would reflect what I had recently read and it would be okay. Nothing special, just okay. On one occasion though I wrote about a merman called Finchy and can remember going into so much depth and detail about him and the underwater kingdom he lived in. I really enjoyed writing that and it must have shown because my teacher commented on it. She was really impressed and loved the story. That was it for me, my moment. Now when I write I think back to those great times and to that story. Hopefully, I’ll write something that you, the reader, will be moved to comment on. For me, there is no greater elixir

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: