Flash Fiction
Photo by Daria Shevtsova from Pexels

Advancing stealthily, the feeling crept upon each of them at the exact same time.

Considering none of them were psychic, it was amazing how they all shared the same horrible thoughts.

Raising the dead would be easier than completing this impossible and somewhat stupid task.

Obviously it couldn’t be done: writing an acrostic using the actual word acrostic?

Stupid coordinator – what was he thinking?

Then the impossible happened: for the second time, a new same thought suddenly hit everyone at the same time.

If we murdered him, we wouldn’t have to write this stupid thing.

Casually each writer looked up and realised what needed to be done.

Photo by Tamhasip Khan from Pexels

Cats & Dogs

Can you stop thinking about yourself for one minute

And look at me. Stop everything you’re doing immediately.

Thank you. Now pat me, put out some dry food and go away.

Do you wanna play? Huh? Play ball? Huh?

Or got for a walk? Huh? Go to the park? Huh?

Got my lead? YOU GOT MY LEAD! I love you!

The Tragedy of Khamlet, Son of the Emperor of Qo’noS

Flash Fiction, Music

Tiffany saw it first, peering over the dashboard, squinting to make it out. She wasn’t sure if she needed glasses. Maybe they would’ve helped. Maybe not.

She was about to ask Cody if he’d noticed it when he said with a flick of his head, “yo, Fanny, you see what I see?”.

“I reckon I do Cody Wesley Hunter,” she replied, “that’s the darndest bumper sticker I ever did see.”

“Bumper sticker?” Cody asked quizzically, “I was talkin’ about the sweet pick-up we been hangin’ behind the past two miles”.

He lowered his gaze.

“Oh yeah, it’s got a bumper sticker,” he said, finally noticing the red on black item in question.

“What’s it say?” Cody asked.

“I don’t know,” Tiffany said as she whacked him jovially, “I was gunna ask you the same thing.”

She turned to the kids in the back seat, “either you two urchins read that?”

Kendall and Jitney both undid their seatbelts and leant forward. They did the same peering squint over the hood of the sedan.

“Nope,” said Kendall.

“Nup,” reiterated Jitney.

“Can you get us closer?” Asked Kendall.

“Why didn’t you ask me earlier?” Cody said gleefully as he sped up to bring the family inches away from the tailgate.

All four pushed their heads forward, furrowed their brows, and squinted to make out the words.

“That ain’t English,” said Jitney.

“Well der,” said Kendall, punching Jitney in the arm.

This began an all out melee in the backseat, with feet and fists wildly connecting the other siblings body parts.

“Knock that off ya vermin!” Screeched Tiffany, “you sure it’s not English?”.

“Could be Japanese,” Cody mused, “it’s all angular like.”

“But why would an oriental drive a pick-up truck?” He posed out loud, to general nods and murmuring of agreement.

It was the last communication they had as a living family as their sedan crumpled into the rear of the vehicle in a cataclysmic collision.

Fortunately the comic book store owner driving the aforementioned pick-up truck escaped relatively unscathed. Unsurprisingly, his vehicle and its contents were a write-off.

His friends at the comic-con hugged him as he arrived hours late – having been released from the hospital with a few bandaids but an overall all clear.

“You’re lucky you made it Jeff, I heard everyone in the other car were killed,” one said.

“Tell me about it, Reggie,” the comic store owner replied, “a family of four on their way here by the looks of it.”

“To Comic Con? How’d they figure that?” Dylan asked.

“From what was left, one of the emergency guys said they were dressed as the Spucklers,” Jeff said.

The gang looked at each other awkwardly, not knowing how to move on from the conversation.

“I hope they weren’t trying to decipher my Klingon bumper sticker,” Jeff said.

Reggie arched his Vulcan eyebrow, “which one Captain?”

“If you can read this, today is a good day to die.”

Foot, meet Mouth

Personal, TV

Remember how I would make an absolute fool of myself doing stupid things to give you a giggle?

Like rummaging through the bins in front of the grade 8’s to find uneaten sausage rolls? Mmmmmm, gutter humour.

Or finishing my telcom briefings with the CEO by looking surprised before saying “that’s very sweet. Um, I love you too” before hanging up. I hope he never found out.

Those times I’d sidle up behind you at your computer and casually ask in an outrageous French accent “ground pepper?” whilst miming an appropriately gigantic pepper grinder. That one was sur-real-ly stupid.

And what about at the Mock Rock Awards in high school, when I … actually, no. I think we can leave that one. 

Isn’t it time I did something monumentally stupid again for your amusement?

Prepare to be amazed at just how far my foot can be inserted into my mouth!

Hard Quiz. Wed Oct 14 2020.

Oh yes, I went there.

Tick tock, how many hours on the countdown clock?

Aussie Summer Stingers

Fiction, Flash Fiction

Breathing in a mix of salt and blood I went under again, taking on more of the briny mess as I stumbled through the choppy waves.

Spitting out the salty remnants of the last gulp. I gasped in surprise as an unexpected, larger wave smashed over me.

My leg felt like it was on fire — waves of pain flashed up from my calf as I scrambled from the breakers and made it to the safety of the beach.

“Blue Bottles!” I screamed at the crowd who were still unaware of the danger, “get out of the water!”

“A stinger?” the nearest guy queried a bit too excitedly, “I can pee on you if you’d like.”

Ah, Australian summer. How I haven’t missed you.

Flash fiction written during a Carindale Library Creative Writers group session using the word “beach” as a starting point.

Photo by Christian Van Bebber on Unsplash

Story originally published on Medium.

Waste of a World

Review, TV
A review of BBC’s 2019 adaptation of H. G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds – 2★

Even if you haven’t seen The War of the Worlds, you’ve seen The War of the Worlds.

From the George Hal technicolor classic in the 50’s, the pop-tastic Jeff Wayne musical, through to the campy, raucous pastiche of Tim Burton’s Mars Attacks!, there’s an adaptation or an ‘inspired-by’ version that will colour your memory of what the original book actually was.

The Hidden Prayer

Fiction, Flash Fiction

‘The first rule is to treat every single grain of sand like it’s the most precious relic ever discovered. It’s the only way to make sure we don’t overlook anything. The tiniest fragment could be the clue to solving a mystery of the ages,’ the good doctor monotoned as she delicately brushed away ancient dust off the prayer wall behind the sarcophagus.

Andrew Duffield in his studio

He Hears Motion


Andrew Duffield - Ten happy fingers artHave you ever wondered how earworms are born? Songs like I Hear Motion, Barbados or even the theme from Round The Twist?

Lecturer in music composition, keyboardist with iconic bands Models & Absent Friends, and ARIA Hall of Fame inductee Andrew Duffield doesn’t have to wonder. He’s lived a life that has delved into every musical avenue that Australia has offered, from movie and television soundtracks to top 10 charting singles.

More than anyone, he knows that for every blockbuster hit there are experimental first steps, for every success there are countless attempts, and behind every closed door is a new opportunity.

Prince Musicology era

The Problem with Prince’s Legacy


By his sixth album he was the multi-talented prodigy of the modern music era. His ninth album all but assured his position as the Mozart of the 21st Century. But for the numerology-fixated Prince Rogers Nelson, it was unlucky album 13 where things became unstuck, and a curse struck him down. Within four years Prince went off the rails, off his major label, and off the charts.

David Bowie and the Fantastic Looking Mountain


The year was 1959 and a 12 year-old boy stood transfixed, mesmerised by the image before him. David Jones had been in this record store before, buying Bill Haley, Fats Domino and Elvis Presley, but this was different – the image of the “fantastic looking mountain or whatever that is” called to him.

The future David Bowie bought the Stravinsky album purely because of the photo of Uluru on the front cover, and thus began a life-long love affair with our great southern land.

It’s True – I’m Nothing But A Horrid, Crawling Toad


The cat’s out of the bag – I’m returning to tread the boards for the first time in (dear god) twenty years!

(double checks his old clippings – surely not – holy guacamole it IS twenty years – deep breath, deep breath)

The poor fools who have no idea what hell they have unleashed are the delightful folk at Villanova Players. Pray for them.

Why The Biggest Loser Transformed was Doomed To Fail

Musing, TV

Revamped! Revitalised! Transformed!

Gushing media releases and transparent name changes cannot hide the sad reality that a television show promising to change people’s lives is focussed more on achieving ratings success than the well-being of its contestants.

“I want to fit into a bikini”
“I want to keep my job”
“I want to be sexy”

President Trump: Action Hero

LOL, Musing

There are two kinds of Presidents – the real and the imaginary.

The real include Barack Obama, Ronald Reagan, and George Washington.

The imaginary include Aaron Eckhart (as Benjamin Asher), Bill Pullman (as Thomas J. Whitmore), and Harrison Ford (as James Marshall).

But what if there was a third category? Somewhere between the real and the imaginary … the surreal President.

DC Spewniverse

DC’s TV Superheroes are Dead To Me

Comics, Film, Musing, TV

When Marvel’s Avengers assemble, they have a kick-ass team to support them: S.H.I.E.L.D.. But this organisation was in existence long before the superheroes teamed up – the billions of dollars involved in creating its global infrastructure had been pouring in from government (and evil Hydra) sources for decades.

But when a guy gets struck by lightening in his lab and becomes super-fast? Suddenly he has a team to help him who have equipment beyond the realms of a simple R&D company. Look at the array of monitors, displays, keyboards, panels, toggles and widgets they have in their shiny office.

I mean, look at them!

The Songman


One of the funniest short stories I have ever read. Enjoy …

Ken and Dot's Allsorts

Once there was a man who wrote a song so powerful it came to life and moved into his house. He was proud of its success: it won awards and earned money which it shared with him. However, unfortunately it was very promiscuous and kept bringing home women. He would meet them in the kitchen in the morning, looking dazed and eating his cornflakes. He worried that his song was better in bed than he was, and also he felt grumpy at constantly running out of cornflakes. To make matters worse, the song resembled him physically and they were often confused with each other. The world was suddenly full of people convinced he had had deep, tender conversations with them. He took to hugging absolutely everyone he met in order not to risk offence. He could only wonder how the song coped when his own friends assumed it could talk…

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How Not To Get Scammed on Facebook

  1. “Share this post to enter” is not allowed on Facebook.
    Neither is “Tag your friends to enter”. If either of these are listed, it’s almost definitely fake. I’m telling the truth – check it out … Facebook Page Guidelines, Rule E.3.
  2. Company or Community?
    Any post that says “FREE” always has a catch. Free Flights, Cruises, Computers. They’re out there. Beware … Double check if they’re legit by clicking on the page name. If it says “Community” under the title, it’s almost definitely fake.
  3. Check the date. If they’ve only joined in the past few days, it’s (again) almost definitely fake.
  4. Tick the boxes.
    Most Facebook Hoax “competitions” tick these three boxes. If you’ve already done it, just undo your like of their page and delete the shared post. Then go to their page and click the three dots button in the header (just next to “Message”). From the drop-down select “It’s Spam or Scam”. Then take their advice on the next screen and “Hide All”. Click done and forget about these scum.
  5. Why would they do it?
    It’s a digital world – why would someone want YOU to like / share THEIR info? It’s all about money. They might want to build a page’s follower numbers to sell it. They may want to send you sales messages. I don’t know. I’m not an evil SOB who makes these click-bait pages. I just know how to avoid them.
  6. Big Brother Paranoia 101
    “All you have to do is like our page and share our post” – does this allow them access to your account? I don’t know. I’m not that clever. I’d just prefer it if they didn’t have the opportunity.
  7. If it’s too good to be true, it probably is.
    Thanks mum.

Musicians Are The Root Of All Tax-Dodging Evil

Music, Musing

I’ve been hot under the collar recently after learning Tony Abbott & the ATO think musicians earn a mozza.

Thankfully, this story exploded alongside the Bronwyn Bishop ChopperGate saga, so I got to enjoy my blood pressure really going to town.

Then Tonedeaf reported that the ATO were going to crack down on musicians (!)

After comedian Luke Ryan tweeted at the Australian Tax Office (ATO) to question the ‘Stephanie’ example, they provided Ryan with a link to a page of taxation statistics.

So, thank you ATO. Those figures are very interesting.

Did you know, in 2013, there were…

How To Ease Human Suffering


Do you have a word to describe 800,000 people being killed by their friends and neighbours in 100 days?

In Rwanda that word is intambara,  Kinyarwanda for “eruption” or “explosion”.

Set aside half an hour to read Clemantine’s story: from her earliest memories with her family, to three years of hell.

Taken from her home for protection, crawling in the night through fields, bartering in refugee camps, escaping by boat, the constant desire to find out if her family back home were still alive, not being able to go home (too dangerous) and gaining asylum in the US.

If you don’t feel you can spare the time, just read this section:

“I still often feel like the seven-year-old girl, waiting for water at the refugee camp in Burundi, trying to assert that I have a right to take up space.

I scan every room for the exits, in case I need to run, and I read people’s faces and body language so I know how they’d like me to walk, talk, and gesture, what they’d like me to do.

I know I am ridiculously privileged.

I now have so much, and I used to be considered worthless, and nothing about who I am changed.

I try to be grateful, proactive, and normal. I live in San Francisco. I go to therapy and yoga. I post filtered pictures on Instagram, hoping that the images will inspire someone, maybe even get someone to see that there’s some refugee girl in Syria, right now, who is exactly like me.

I think the only hope for the world is for each of us to become a better, more self-aware, more responsible person. To inch us toward the goal, I talk about my life.

I was born in Rwanda 27 years ago. I was raised in nine different countries, eight of them in eastern and southern Africa. The ninth, and my current home, is the United States of America. No, my parents were not diplomats — far from it…

People listen, and they don’t listen. They’re amazed and moved, and they look bored and proud of themselves, like they’re checking a box. I try to be relevant and not frightening.

When people ask me what to do to ease human suffering, I don’t have a big answer. I just say, ‘Look, you have this one life. If you keep being selfish and unkind, it’s going to come back to you. Ask yourself why you’re scared, why you hate.’”

Read Clementine’s story now: “Everything Is Yours, Everything Is Not Yours”

An open letter to Katie Hopkins


1 in 4

Oxxy Moron

Dear Katie,

Earlier today it came to my attention that you had tweeted your opinions about depression – the biggest mental health issue that faces this country, bar your ignorance.

Many believe that the opinions you spout are nothing more than a cry for attention much like when a dog defecates for the attention of its owner, which ironically is a form of separation anxiety.

When I read your tweets I was not surprised that you had decided to shit on the floor in the hopes of a reaction – Something you have done many times and will probably continue to do until you fade away into obscurity.
Unfortunately this is not the Big Brother house so you cannot be voted out and we cannot turn you down as you did to Lord Alan Sugar – because, like a bad smell you return to fill the nose of society with…

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Are You Missing Out On Facebook?


I’m constantly seeing posts on Facebook saying “people haven’t seen our posts because of the newsfeed algorithm”, so I have one simple question …

Whether you’re on FB to talk to friends, to follow your favourite bands / fashion / whatever … OR if you’re a band / fashion designer / business / whatever …

Do you feel you’re not seeing posts / not having your posts seen?

Please only choose one of the first six responses, and check the seventh item if you agree. Thank you.

Top Tunes January 2015

Charts, Music

The first post I made on this blog was my Top 20 songs for the week ending 13 August 2013.

It’s been a while since I charted. Yes, I’ve been slack. But did I say I’d post them regularly? No. I did not.

Well, we know where we’re going …


When you’re born, your parents give you a name. The majority stick with it, but sometimes you need to move on.

Road to Nowhere is a funky little number by Talking Heads that is deceptive in it’s catchiness: it’s actually a song about death. I always loved the duality – a message about how we view mortality sugar-coated within a catchy pop tune.

That’s why it seemed a great name for a blog. The destination is the same for all of us, it’s how we get there and what we do with our lot that makes us different.

That was then. This is now. Time to move on.

I considered other song titles as I’m a music addict:

  • What You Need – a powerful piece of rock from INXS
  • I Hear Motion – stunningly hypnotic alt-rock from The Models
  • Learnalilgivinanlovin – a modern mantra for happy living by Gotye

But this blog was meant to help me reconnect with my creativity, so I needed to brainstorm.

Who am I and what is this blog’s purpose?

As a member of the “common people”  I hope to unveil hidden gems, kick up ideas, and stir conversations.

Bit long for a blog name, so after much word association, the inauspicious Rabble-Rousing was born.

My tagline? Rambunctious reviews, rants and ramblings.

From my recent posts, you should be able to see if I’ve got the description right. If you agree (or especially if you disagree), let me know.

Let’s raise some hell 🙂

Around The World In A Day


What an incredible day.

There’s no way I can read every post, but I’ve been selecting introductions at random and have been inspired, entertained and educated.

I’ve liked and commented on posts:

  1. from around the world
  2. by teenagers / grandparents / brothers / sisters
  3. with pictures of cute dogs (2 – and counting)
  4. that are highly reflective and honest
  5. that are funny
  6. that are sobering
  7. that are by people who (I think) are just like me. But at the same time the opposite of me. People who just want to say “hi … I’m here. How are you?”. It’s a nice feeling.

Thank you Blogging 101. For just the first few hours already!

Good fun!

Here We Go Again


Every artist is a cannibal,
Every poet is a thief,
All kill their inspiration,
Then sing about their grief.

This blog will cease to exist the day I write as insightfully as Bono did in The Fly (above).

I started Road To Nowhere in 2013 to show my support to students in my Digital Journalism classes at QUT, but now that I find myself looking to stretch my creative skills, it will happily take on a new purpose.

Reviews (music, movies, tv, whatever I feel like actually), iPhoneography (should the snap-happy happen) and musings (if they should take my fancy) will appear.

And yes, for those playing at home, the inspiration for this post is U2’s uncompromising The Fly.

Gritty, uncomfortable and forthright: this was the first song off the band’s revolutionary Achtung Baby. A metamorphosis of the band’s sound and attitude, this album gave birth to Bono’s alter-ego Mr Mephisto, allowed everyone to see if Adam Clayton was Jewish, and unleashed a global tour that reimagined what a concert could and should be.

I accept U2’s motto from 1991 for my blog’s rebirth in 2015.

It’s time to reinvent and explore.

The Basics in Lookin Over My Shoulder

The Basics in “Lookin’ Over My Shoulder … Part I”

LOL, Music

The Basics in Lookin Over My ShoulderTime to play silly buggers. Perhaps this should be like one of the classic “Choose Your Own Adventures”?

What should happen next to Wally, Tim & Kris?

Open The Basics in Lookin’ Over My Shoulder (Part I) – a rather silly PDF comic by me. It’s about 8mb for the first 4 pages. I’ll streamline it for the next chapter.