Collage: Wolf Boy And The Number 12 Bus

As Wolf boy sat
Alone in the Bus shelter
Waiting for the number 12 Bus
To take him to
Remington Place
His mind started to drift
And reminisce
About his long lost love
Margaret Sykes
And all of the special things
That Wolf boy
Adored about her
The way she tied her hair back
With pieces of old string
How she looked
In a polka dot bikini
Made from old curtains
Her brilliant use
Of foul language
In the cinema
And the way
She used to delicately
Suck
Cheap lollipops
Whilst watching "Casualty"
On her Portable
Colour T.V set
Which was balanced precariously
On the edge
Of a worm ridden
Wooden table
Standing lonely
In her tiny
Living room
And as the memories
Started to reside
Slowly into the Back
Of his mind
Wolf boy suddenly looked up
Quite startled
And
In a blind panic
Dashed out of the Bus shelter
Howling at the top of his voice
As the last
Number 12 Bus
Of the evening
Drove on by


For more surreal short stories, collage artwork, only a handful of people exist, how the stars relax, odd one out, celebrity binman, music by The Harridans, and much more visit www.instantnowhere.com and subscribe your minds eye to an Instant Nowhere Alternative Universe.


Collage by Heston Quiff

Written by Tommy Dandruff

The Graffiti Golems

As the Graffiti artist
Slowly crouched down
To apply the final touch
Of crimson red
Spray paint
To his beautiful
Piece of artwork
From nowhere
And in a flash of light
Appeared three goggle eyed
Dumb struck
Golems
And before the Graffiti artist
Was able to stop himself
He applied a crimson red
Streak of spray paint
Right across the faces
And smack bang in the eyes
Of the three
Gormless
Golems
Who were now red faced
Red eyed
And still oblivious
To where on Earth
They actually
Were


For more Golem artwork and adventures, surreal short stories, poetry, prose, savage celebrity satire, magazines, assorted artwork, music by The Harridans, and much more visit www.instantnowhere.com and subscribe your knuckles to an Instant Nowhere Alternative Universe.


Artwork and story by Arnie Canoe

Harry The Harridan And The Jellybean Rainstorm

In preparation for going outside
Into the rain
And torrential hailstorm
Which incidentally
Sounded like a drum solo
On the tin roof
Of his shed
Harry the Harridan
Put on his favourite
Bright Yellow
Waterproof coat
And matching face mask
Opened the door
Of his rather dilapidated
And unstable shed
Stepped outside
And stopped dead
In his tracks
Realising in an instant
That it was not rain
Or a torrential hailstorm
That was causing
Drum solo type noises
On his tin roof
It was in fact
A torrential downpour
Of Millions
And millions
Of multi-coloured
Jellybeans
Harry looked on bemused
Paused for a few brief seconds
Looked skywards
Opened his mouth
And spent
The next ten minutes
Filling his greedy mouth
With the torrential
Downpour
Of Jellybeans


For more surreal short stories, magazines, comic strips, collage artwork, abstract paintings, political satire, how the stars relax, and much more visit www.instantnowhere.com and subscribe your left ventricle to an Instant Nowhere Kultural Universe.


Image by Arnie Canoe

Written by Tommy Dandruff

Searching For Barney Starkly

As Cynthia frantically searched
Like a Woman possessed
Through the rubbish bags
Plunging her hands wildly
Amongst the old
Rusty tins
Of dog food
Rotting chicken carcases
Maggot islands
Discarded syringes
Swarms of ants
And used Johnnies
She suddenly
Breathed a sigh of relief
At last she had found it
Against all odds
Right at the bottom
Of a half burnt
Sulo bin
Dripping with chip fat
And covered
With rice crispies
Her search
Was finally over
And after two
Long years
Of looking through
All the bins
On her estate
At last
Peering out
From the bottom
Of her very own
Chargilled bin
She spied the beady eyes
Of her long
Lost
Husband
Barney Starkly


For more surreal short stories, poetry, prose, abstract paintings, collage artwork, music, T-shirt designs, and much more visit www.instantnowhere.com and subscribe to an Instant Nowhere Kulture.


Written by Tommy Dandruff

Collage by Heston Quiff

The Popularity Of Rupert Kilt

Being so well liked
Was a drag for Rupert Kilt
Walking down the street
Could take an eternity
Due to constantly
Being stopped
By passing ole crones
With hairy chins
And sovereign ring wearing
Shellsuit adorned
Chavettes
Jangling and skanking
To the tune of
Inbred Strum n Bass
Which was always
Blaring out
From mobile phone
Appendage
And every morning
Fan mail
Always graced
Rupert Kilt's doorstep
Letters of admiration
For his amazing hair quiff
Podgy bespectacled face
And his wonderful legs
Which dazzled
Like jewelled milk bottles
In the midday
Blazing Sun
The pressure
Of being so well liked
Was all to much
For Rupert Kilt
There was only one
Logical
Step
To dealing with this constant
Attention
And admiration
From ole crones
Chavettes
And most of
The worlds population
And so with that 
Rupert Kilt decided
To become a Junky
And sink into a world
Between worlds
And exist
In a forgotten universe 
Of lost souls
And broken dreams
This
His only solution
To the pain
Of being
So popular
In a world
Of discarded
Souls
And pointless
Popularity
Contests
Orchestrated
To enhance
Inadequacy
And fuel isolation


For more surreal short stories, savage celebrity satire, fake news reports, T-shirt designs, collage artwork, magazines, and much more visit www.instantnowhere.com and delve into an Instant Nowhere Alternative Universe.


Collage by Heston Quiff

Written by Tommy Dandruff

The Invisible Curtsy

My mind is a waxwork dream

As Jeremy sat motionless
In his favourite
Navy blue
Armchair
Like a man blob
Wearing yellow
PVC
Raincoat
He reminisced
About intimate moments
With past loves
In joyous deserts
And tranquil forests
Listening to the running nectar
And the whistling breeze
But
As Jeremy's mind wandered
Like chubby toddler
In first time wobble
Biped excursion
He realised
that the recently swallowed
Psychedelic presents
That he had been kindly given
By an invisible curtsy
Were now starting
To kick in


To read more surreal short stories, bizarre cut-up writings, and savage satire visit www.instantnowhere.com and immerse yourself into an Instant Nowhere Universe.


Collage by Heston Quiff

Written by Tommy Dandruff

Colin and the time travelling soup aisle

What happened to the cup-a-soups?

Well it was all very strange really
One minute Colin was minding his own business
Casually wandering
Like a half baked man spam
Down the soup aisle
At his local supermarket
Carefully deciding
What flavour cup-a-soup to buy
When in a flash
Colin was standing amidst a battle scene
Gazing eye to eye
With a rather fearsome
And ever so slightly
Thuggish looking
Axe wielding
Russell Crowe
Who was galloping furiously towards him
Dressed in tights
And leather tunic
And atop a pure white horse
It seemed that Colin
Had somehow
Whilst wandering the soup aisle
At his local supermarket
Slipped through a rip
In the fabric of time space itself
And into a battle scene
From the eye wateringly shit
And arse clenchingly embarrassing
Remake
Of Robin Hood
However
Only one thought now remained
In Colin's tiny mind
And that was if Russell Crowe
Angry and with a beard
Had any idea
How the bloody fucking hell
Colin could find his way back
To the soup aisle


For more surreal stories of squit, cut-up writings, and ludicrous satire visit www.instantnowhere.com and subscribe to an Instant Nowhere Alternative Kulture.


Image by Arnie Canoe

Written by Tommy Dandruff

Sandra's funny turn



Sandra began to feel odd again

As Sandra walked alongside her odious husband Alan
Down the local high street avoiding the shrivelled dog turds and discarded cigarettes
And past Alan's favourite pie and mash shop
A very familiar feeling started to come over Sandra again
Her body started to twitch and shake
Her eyes became glazed over like a heroin reject 
The tongue in her mouth started to slide towards her dribble covered chin
And as the background scene behind Sandra and Alan
Changed to that of a piece of notepad sized lined paper
Large streaks of coloured pen started to scribble
In a childlike frenzy
Over Sandra's eyes and body
And over the concrete floor which was now replaced by the lined paper
Alan shouted furiously at Sandra as his face was coloured green making him look like a huge septic ballbag
His trousers now sketchy red made him look like an angry tramp
It was all too much for Alan to bare
"What the fucks up with you ya silly bitch" Alan shouted loudly
Sandra staggered gently
Swayed ever so slightly
A huge length of dribble swung from her sopping wet mouth
She turned towards Alan
Opened her slobbering mouth and said "EERRrrr"
Before falling face down
In a puddle of her own spit


Drawing by Charlie Cornflake

Written by Tommy Dandruff

Brians enormous disaster shirt

Where are my fucking trousers!!

Brian was furious.

His bloodshot eyes oozed menace as he ranted at his wife's appalling choice of shirt for him

The cuffs were rigid
The sleeves were far too long making Brian look like a hairy man gibbon
The material was cheap, starch riddled, and mind blowingly itchy
And next to Brian's scrawny neck
Sat two of the most gigantic shirt collars ever seen by human eyes

As if this wasn't enough to tip Brian over the edge there was an even bigger problem

Brian's wife had forgotten to buy him some new trousers to go with his shirt

So unfortunately for Brian, this horrendous shirt was now the only item of clothes Brian now owned, which was entirely due to the fact that Brian's wife had accidentally set fire to all of his clothes only a few days earlier with a hand built flame thrower that she had been working on in her spare time in their garden shed.


By Tommy Dandruff