I got told this story a few years ago,
the man in question should be on Death Row.

Multiple killings and blood everywhere,
people would look and people would stare.

The slaughter would flow and his axe would blow,
blood poured down the gutters below.

A dozen bodies they found that week,
who IS this monstrous freak?

He will kill women and he will kill men,
he did kill nine, no wait, it was ten.

It comes about every two to three years,
his victims look on in floods of tears.

Look out of your window the time is near,
and believe me this, you should fear.

He will come for you, no questions asked,
you could be at the sharp end of his axe…


If wolves battered down your door
then knocked you to the floor;
leaving your nation battered and sore –
would you now lock your door?

Don’t let anyone in,
protect your homeland with a gun;
well that’s what happened with Kim Jong-un.

We should let them be,
let them be free,
maybe one day we will see;
there will be no bang,
just a party in Pyongyang.

They may have their problems and so do we,
we’re not always happy with joy and glee,
so let’s go to the demilitarised zone and plant a tree.

We can watch together as the tree grows tall,
see all the nuclear weapons fall.
The Korean peninsula will one day be one,
there will be no tears and be no bomb.

So let’s open our arms and hold out our hand
and shake on a deal, that will be for real.
Keep our world safe and drop the gun…
Come on Kim Jong-un.



With my birthday just a day and a few hours away, I wanted to pass on some very interesting facts for the birthday boys or girls who share the same day as myself.

~We have slept for 6,087 days or 16 years and we have been on this planet for 438,240 hours.
~Yes you have guessed it correctly we are 26,294,400 minutes old!
~We were born in mid-September on a Saturday.
~We are Virgos and we are always very open-minded and we are constantly thinking, analysing and striving to better ourselves.
~Our birthstone is the Sapphire and it’s energies protect us from envy and harm.

This is for anyone else who was born with the same name as myself – Mark.
~It was number seven on the list of ‘most popular baby names’ in 1968.
~It is a polite, strong and emotional name and in the United States there have been a total of 1,356,156 males named Mark and 4,490 females.
~Our birth flower is Aster – I personally have never heard of it.

In the age range of 39-57 years old we were part of Generation X.
Time Period: 1961-1979.

Some facts are…

~Generation X grew up right at the start of the technological revolution.
~We are considered comfortable with technology, but not tethered to it as younger generations may seem.
~Generation X were born soon after the ‘baby boomers’ and are associated with the ‘hippie era’.
~They are often perceived as directionless and disaffected.

~Baseball player Denny McLain, who played for the Detroit Tigers back in 1968, ran his 30th victory of the season.
~USSR’s Zond 5 launched on it’s first circum lunar flight.

Last but not least is the title to this blog – it is the Roman Numerals for 9-14-1968.

Happy Birthday to you all.
Love Mark Quinn.

The room

I walk up to the dark wood-stained door of my hotel room and place the key in the worn brass lock; you can hear the pins drop inside the lock as I turn it clockwise.

I push open the door and the hinges creak with a sigh of relief.
The sight of mustard-coloured walls and old wooden furniture greet me as I step on the brown corduroy carpet that could do with a vacuum.
I can hear the light bulb straining trying to stay on; flickering from very-dull to dull.

The reflection of the ‘Le Hotel’ neon sign outside reflects in my wardrobe’s full-length mirror.
On closing the door behind me I place my suitcase on the floral bedspread. I walk up to the window and take a look outside; I see a French baguette walking along eating a man, and a dog riding a bike with a string of onions following behind.

I spot a reflection in the window pane and quickly turn to see a scantilly-dressed maid with a glass of milk; she slowly hands it over and I take a sip.
“The milk is warm,” I say whilst licking the remaining drips from my upper lip.
The maid adjusts her left breast with her wrist in a upward-heaving movement.
“My pleasure!” she says, turning on her heels as she quickly makes her way out of the room as quietly as she entered.
I place the milk down – I don’t quite fancy it now – nor do I want the cheese and crackers she left behind.

I walk into the bathroom and look into the oval mirror and I see a reflection that is not me.

To be continued…


As I ate my breakfast this morning I was sat outside in the yarden listening to the sounds of nature and munching on my toast and chickpeas while the sound of gulls filled the sky.
When I was a child you only ever heard that sound by the seaside, now they have come inland, so I started to think, while I had my coffee to drink…

In fifty years from now you will have sparrowgulls,
smaller version of the big seagulls.
If you’re walking outside with a bag of chips,
four or five will come down to attack you,
pecking away at your head and hands.
Years have gone since they looked for crabs in the sand,
pigeons will have fled.
There might even be a comeback for Right Said Fred,
whilst I have sparrowgulls pecking at my head.
You can not go outside without a hat placed on your head,
just in case of a sparrowgull attack.
They will have claws that stick in your back
and more and more people will have heart attacks.

I ask you all, what is worse…
a sparrowgull on your head or a comeback from Right Said Fred?

The Chronicles of Gordon and Betty


For those of you that follow my writing adventure you will know that I come up with a lot of different characters and they don’t fall into one genre. I have a strange sense of humour; if you’ve read The Surprisingly Funny Adventure of Captain Lardarse you will know what I mean!

Whilst looking through my many note books in the writing room I came across two characters that my wife, Jeni, and I made up. I started writing some stories about the couple back in 2016 and this is when I came up with The Chronicles of Gordon and Betty.

Gordon and Betty are married and live in Manchester, although Gordon originates from Northampton and was a professor of science and Betty was born and bred in Manchester. The couple are in their seventies but very young at heart. Most of their conversations regard the past. They are not based on anybody, but on everyday life situations as well as mine and Jeni’s imaginations. We talk and laugh about certain things that they would come up with, but I have not written anything down since 2016, since then it’s all in our heads!

I want to share with you just two diary entries from Gordon’s diary.

Please feel free to comment, and most of all, enjoy…



The Chronicles of Gordon and Betty


Summer 1972. Uphill fencing.


My fascination with uphill fencing started in the summer of 1972 when I was walking my pet dog, Rufus. He was an old dog and had to stop a lot to pee, on this particular walk he stopped, and I leant on an old rickety wooden fence and noticed it was going up the hill. Well that was me hooked on uphill fencing!

In 1973 I was with my good lady wife, Betty, and we were enjoying a walk in the countryside when we stopped to admire yet another fence, Betty was a tad fitter than me and walked up the hill. It was then that I decided to mention my fascination with uphill fencing, she replied to me that this such fence was downhill, as Betty was at the top of the hill, and of course I was at the bottom. We debated on this for a while then concluded that it was a very fine fence.

My next encounter with a fence was in 1974, but this one was a downhill fence, or it was until Betty dropped her Babybel cheese and went to retrieve it at the bottom of the hill, then she changed her mind and said it was an uphill fence. Again, we debated on this whilst eating our Babybel cheeses, not the one that Betty dropped due to it landing in a soft cow pat.

Nineteen seventy-five came, I must point out it did not take us that long to debate and eat our cheese, we finished that in 1974. But Betty is still debating that fact saying she still has a Babybel cheese in the fridge from 1974.

We’ll that’s it for now, I hope to report more on uphill fencing in the future.



  1. The job interview


I remember going for a job interview, it was with a company that I shall not name. Whilst at the interview, and I might add three people were doing the asking of the questions, one chap asked, “If you could invite three people to a dinner party, one person living, one person that inspires you and one person that is no longer living, who would you invite?”

I thought long and hard and replied, “Well, the living person would, of course, be my wife, Betty. The second person would be Richard Branson, he inspires me because he wears the most fantastic jumpers. But I decline the third person because a dead person would not be a very good conversationalist.”

The chap then explained to me that the person from the past would be alive again. I was shocked.

I said, “That would be like inviting a zombie to dinner and that would be no fun at all.”

After this they explained that the person from the past would be like they were when they were alive.

I said, “OK, I’ve got it! I would like to invite Paul McCartney.”

After a few bizarre glances between the three interviewers I was asked if it was only Richard Branson’s fantastic knitwear that inspired me or was it his world record balloon flights, his involvement in over two-hundred businesses or his global brand?

I quickly replied, “I didn’t know that about him. I only ever saw him on the House Party.”

Then the chap replied, “That’s Noel Edmonds!”

A silly kind of love

Chapter 1. First love.

I remember the event well.
It was a cold and damp November evening. My tweed leather-elbowed jacket was as wet as next doors cat.
Just then a light brightened up the second floor window.
I hid behind a very small bush hoping I would not be seen. Then I saw the love of my life; her rollers kept her hair up tight against her soft skull and her dressing gown draped over her thin boney shoulders.
With a quick swipe she pulled the curtains right off the rails and fell, disappearing out of view.

Chapter 2. The forgotten chapter.

Chapter 3. The meeting.

The next day I went to the barber shop to get my hair trimmed.
I knew that the love of my life would be there because it was a Tuesday and she would get her arm-pit hair waxed.

Sinatra’s words…not mine!

sinatraMany things in life get me thinking and one way I like to relax is by listening to music; the classic singers, in my opinion, are the best and one of my favourites is Frank Sinatra. One day while I was chilling out with my feet up listening to his greatest hit compilation, this one song started playing so I turned up the volume and listened with happy ears. I just had to write it down. I do a lot of writing in notepads and I put them in the writing room, just in case I need inspiration on a ‘down day’. Some time after, as I was looking through my notepads I came across the words of the man himself, so here they are. This is exactly what I wrote down on the day and it’s beautiful. Whether you sing them in your head or say them aloud they are perfect…and remember, they’re Frankie’s words…not mine…

Fairy tales can come true.
It can happen to you,
if you’re young at heart.
It’s hard, you will find,
to be narrow of mind,
if you’re young at heart.
You can go to extremes with impossible schemes,
you can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams.
Life gets more exciting with each passing day,
and love is either in your heart, or on its way.
Don’t you know that it’s worth every treasure on earth,
to be young at heart.
For as rich as you are, it’s much better by far,
to be young at heart.
And if you should survive to 105,
look at all you’ll derive out of being alive.
And here is the best part,
you have a head start,
if you are among the very young at heart.

Billy and Bunny

_20180418_172908755970408.jpgvia Daily Prompt: Genie

Whilst doing my research I came across this wonderful comic article (courtesy of D.C Thompson & Co) that used to appear in the Dundee Courier every week, so the children could read it.

This particular article is from December 1949 – to think that in our daily lives we have everything at our fingertips – it is just so nice to see how people over sixty years ago got enjoyment. I enjoyed how simple it reads whilst looking at the picture.



It seems the genie will obey,

he gets the cake for Bun and Bill.

But then, alas, he cannot pay!

The shop man’s waiting at the till.

“Oh, gosh!” gasps Bunny. “Goodness me.

I thought that genies fetched things free.”

This genie’s an unusual one,

He has no magic powers – not him!

The two lads’ troubles have begun,

They have to pay the bill. It’s grim.

No wonder they begin to groan,

and wish they’d left the Lamp alone.