Insert Chassis Albuquerque: 2017

29 December 2017

How I Got My Millions.

When I was 17 our town was cut off from the rest of the world for 7 months and 17 days - true story.
As are all my stories.
But I shouldn't have to remind anyone of that.
A giant electric rainbow, of the magnitude never seen before, engulfed the town, preventing anyone from entering or leaving. It blacked out all communication with the outside world (except for TV reality shows, for some reason we were able to receive those), too.

14 December 2017

Gone Fishing.

Related image

In a drastic change I put to sea.
Drastic, because people were looking for me, people I didn’t care to associate with. I had to take a Leave Of Absence, take some time to come my senses and come up with a plan. Rather than bore you with the details, let’s just say it really says something about a man when even a dog has no sympathy for him.

2 December 2017

The Robot Riots

My back was to the wall. They were coming, there must have been at least three, maybe four I figured.
They were a gang.
And they were armed.
Related imageI could hear the gunshots from other incursions nearby. People were screaming, people were dying. I sipped my tea, wondering what to do. That’s right, I’d brought my cup of tea with me when the rebellion started. It had been a gradual, steady crescendo in reaction to the appointment of robots as bankers - you would've thought this was a safe bet, but people didn't trust them. And then they'd discovered even the goddamn robot bankers were crooking the books, hiding money offshore and fucking around with interest rates to the detriment of the man on the street just to try and get their commissions.
Well, the city may have descended into chaos but I preferred to keep some order about me.

25 November 2017

Stories From Space - Earwax...!

Related imageSharpie Vin Diesel, handpicked from a pool of reality TV competitors by a worldwide TV audience to be our first ever astronaut. From our sponsors, Sharpie also won: A small, imported 2-door car, gym membership for a year and a free mobile phone contract for 24 months for any calls made between the hours of 11pm - 7am. Sharpie – according to his bio - was also highly skilled in: Picking up drunk women from bars he frequented, as well as being able to make French toast (this “skill” may have been extended to the women he picked up). The TV show was an overwhelming success. We drew a worldwide TV audience numbering in the gazillions - practically unheard of these days, apparently. Anyway, that’s what we had, an astronaut who could pick up women and was okay with toast.

7 November 2017

Dangerous Times.

Driving home it was dark.
The cab-driver stares, straining his eyes in the rear-view mirror at me. I can tell the wreckage on the back seat of his cab clearly bothered him. He’s probably seen all types of fares, but never one like this. He watches: I’m crawling and drooling about on the floor of the cab, almost under the seat-well; I pull my tongue and slide off the seat to the floor, a side-effect of the hallucinogenics they injected - you know, in order to help get the truth out of me.
Or maybe it was the unmarked car following us all the way he’d spotted that made him nervous.

26 October 2017

The Customer - Or: The Asshole.

“What's your best price?” the customer asked.
“Best price?” 
“Hmm, I see - let me check with my colleague,” I said and signalled him to come over. “Got an asshole over there who wants a best price,” I said conspiratorially.
Immediately my colleague also said: “Hmm - best price is the price you see, sir.”
He looked at me and grinned – I grinned back at him. We agreed: The customer was an asshole. 

20 October 2017

The Very Old, Old Man.

Image result for old age signHe sees himself, an out-of-body experience. He’s hallucinating and realises he’s so tired he’s just looking in the mirror; so he took a long, long look: Tarnished grey, the colour of a very sad old man's hair.
“I’m just an old, old man getting older the longer I stick around.”
Well, that’s life for you. The requirements listed are:

1)    You get old
2)    Become disagreeable
3)    Maybe suffer dementia
4)    And definitely refuse to accommodate anyone

It's not that he’d chosen to become irritable, have extreme mood swings and hallucinations (and possibly need a little psychiatric hospitalisation), it’s just he'd been living comfortably all this time when in just a few more years time, further demonstration of Life’s built in obsolescence and depreciation, he'd probably be:

12 October 2017

That Point Men Arrive At...

He was clearly at that age when men would naturally hoot and holler and yell at all the girls and women. Nothing was ever meant by it, hell, I can't explain it, either, and I'm a man.

4 October 2017

The Philosophy Of Honesty For The Writer.

Image result for ear coordination problemsPeople share interesting variations on the philosophy of honesty. For instance, my mother refuses to lie and maintains she’s only ever lied once in her life. And she says the enormity of her truthfulness over the years is such that - statistically speaking – she’s therefore never lied.
As a writer I’m prone to exaggeration. I guess it's inevitable. I believe it’s okay to exaggerate as long as you don’t lie; these subtle differences you should be aware of, for it’s a very fine line we tread. An ironic fact: I was almost kept back a grade because I was unable to read.
Diagnosis? Severe co-ordination problems.

20 September 2017

The Sundial Salesman - Opening Scene

I OVERHEARD A conversation between my boss Shimansky and his son talking on the phone. That asshole Shimansky said, "What are you doing?" and the son must've replied he was drunk because Shimansky suddenly went berserk and shouted, "Drunk! It’s 11 in the morning! You’re only 12 years old...!" as if the time the boy was drunk mattered more than his age.
The boy must have asked Shimansky what he was going to do about it because Shimansky suddenly shouted into the phone like a homicidal maniac: "Do about it! Why, I'm gonna come home right now and bash your face with the iron to teach you a lesson...!" and with that Shimansky had slammed the phone down and was gone.

11 September 2017

The Doctor - A Cure For Writing.

“What ails you – any symptoms?” the Doctor asks.
He must be in his early fifties, this good natured doctor, maybe fifty-two or fifty-three. His earnestness (in this day and age) is novel and surprising, such unprecedented eager enthusiasm to solve this medical challenge.
However, he, the patient, remained silent. Besides, plumbing new depths of professional time wasting, there’s no real formal training for this kind of disease.

3 September 2017

Everyone's A Critic.

It had begun grammatically, a disagreement over spelling the word "realise" (or "realize" as some spell it). Someone reacted to something I'd written, emphatically pointing out the word "realise" was spelt incorrectly.
In fact, what they said was: "Seriously? Mispelt twice?"
Of course they'd misspelt "mispelt" but I resisted the temptation to make any further judgement against this asshole - perhaps he was from the 3rd world where economising on spelling was as common as budgeting ones diet.

25 August 2017

The Writer Who Wanted To Go Back In Time But Changed His Mind.

The world spinning, feeling sick and shit but remembering everything, even if it's the last thing you wanted to do. They're gone and you're still stuck in this hangover fireball going through every moment ever spent with someone - analyzing, reanalyzing and reinventing all the best and worst moments again and again until the end. It was only natural he should write about what he knew best. Why, he could write them back to life, the story growing in his head he could make his father alive, his mother even more beautiful and his brother never exist to spare him any pain.
And if he could bend light he'd bend it until he was beautiful, surrounded by family, rather than this scar-reminder.
Words, goddammit, all he had were words.
And all this death.

10 August 2017

Train Observations

I was on the train.
Further along a couple, engaged in morning ritual, arguing.
"Why aren’t you talking to me...?" the woman demanded.
The man tried explaining but she wouldn’t believe him and was insulted. Practically apoplectic she kept shouting angrily, "I can't hear a thing! Why aren't you saying anything! You’re talking but I can’t hear a thing you’re saying...!"
"I meant nothing by it, I was just listening to the engine of your thoughts missing a beat!" the man replied.

28 July 2017

The Asshole

“I need this typed up and printed out. Make sure that asshole reads it."
“Which asshole?” she asked and I looked at her.
Burgman was alright. But just last week she’d got her goddamn head caught in the fax machine and Shimansky had had to call the fire brigade to extract her using hydraulic Jaws of Life.

6 July 2017

You Gonna Make It...?

I'm sitting on a rain, sorry, that should read “I’m sitting on a train,” obviously a major plot difference. So, I’m sitting on a train heading for an interview with the BBC about up and coming writers, Indie writers in particular. They'd heard I was writing a 2nd book and were interested in how I was going to try sell it, even who was going to buy it.

21 June 2017

During the promotion of The Sundial Salesman recently I had the below disapointing response, that they wouldn't even go on a date with me, a slightly overweight, happily married, father of one and struggling writer.
So I checked out their facebook profile and, thankfully, can report the following - they must be a COMMUNIST!!!
And also available for dating...
Not the reaction I was looking for, but very funny and made me laugh anyhow...

14 June 2017

Served All day

I went to one of those places where they serve "BREAKFAST ALL DAY", as long as it was before 11am - what's with that? By the time the waitress appeared it was just past 11am and refused to take the order. We had a massive argument and she called the manager and she also refused the order. Pretty soon the owner wondered over to explain her policy: "Breakfast's served all day as long as it's before 11am - there's a sign stating this," she said, pointing. The three of them stared with that sense of majority women always seem to have. Goddamn typical of women to bond together when outnumbered by a man, as if by their solidarity alone it somehow added weight to their argument - it don't mean they right.
Although they were in this case.
So I had to leave, they threatened to call the police...

1 June 2017

Writing, Police And Making A Living...

It’s that time of the month, not in a menstrual sort way, that’s not what I mean at all. It’s just a saying like: “First Contact Will Be Our Last Contact” (a vague reference to the tagline from a new book shortly to be released). Anyhow, it's these small differences that widen the misunderstanding between us and I just wanted to clarify what I meant: I’m doing a new story post, which I hope to do monthly from now on. It’s also worth mentioning (apart from the tremendous amount of lying I do), generally I'm a very unqualified source or information so I'd double triple cross check everything I ever say, so please remember to keep that in mind.

21 April 2017

Grammatical Flexbility

When she said, "Hello, how are you?" I literally thought she'd meant how  I was. So I told her, everything…
It had begun grammatically, a disagreement over spelling the word "realise" (or "realize" as some spell it). Someone reacted to something I'd written, emphatically pointing out the word "realise" was spelt incorrectly. In fact, what they said was: "Seriously? Mispelt twice?"
Of course they'd misspelt "mispelt" but I resisted the temptation to make any judgement against this asshole - perhaps he was from the 3rd world where economising on spelling was as common as budgeting ones diet.

8 April 2017

More Doctors Smoke Camel Cigarettes Than Any Other Cigarette...

For the record: "The New England Journal of Medicine reports that 9 out of 10 doctors agree that 1 out of 10 doctors is an idiot."
Jay Leno

30 March 2017

'Human waste' in cans forces shutdown at Coca-Cola plant in Northern Ireland

By Claire O'Boyle
March 28 2017

 Police have launched an investigation after what appears to be human waste was found in a shipment of drinks cans at a Co Antrim factory.

The night shift at Lisburn's Coca-Cola plant was disrupted last week when a container of cans thought to have arrived from Germany clogged up the machines - only for workers to discover a number were filled with what looked like human waste.

28 March 2017

Sound Dating Advice or: How The Rise of Post-Feminism Has Allowed For Equality In Society.

Dating Etiquette - Never open the door for a woman on your first date. Bad move, pal. Let me explain: A long time ago women were dutifully impregnated and stared out the kitchen window while cooking or doing the dishes wondering about a different, better time - how would all those women who suffered then feel now if you were to open a door for them?

27 March 2017

The Number.

"Hi. Is that God?"
There was a pause.
Surprisingly he thinks he recognises the voice on the other end – he should, of course.
Then a voice said: "Could be, who's asking?"
"Detective Gunstormer."
"Ah, Gunstormer - you are a persistent one. How'd you get this number?"
"We'll, God, you're a hard man to track down. But I found you, eventually."

17 March 2017

All dead. Those guys in the photo there, they were great writers, guys who could make you laugh, and make you cry. All dead now, their last words? Hunter S Thompson left a note for his wife titled “Football Season Is Over “ before he shot himself. Allen Ginsberg said "Toodle-oo!" according to Ken Keysey, who was there when he died; Keysey himself died of complications, medical in nature, but nothing specific. F. Scott Fitzgerald was asked if he wanted anything and, just before he died, he said Hershey bars would be good enough for him. Things you should be aware of: There are no new stories, only new writers. Those guys in the photo - Bukowski, Thompson, Kerouac, Roth, Ginsberg, Keysey, Salinger, Fitzgerald - they already knew that. So time for someone new, someone who can make you laugh, and make you cry.

11 March 2017

It's Tough Being A Woman

First let me apologise for the late posting, I've been preoccupied with the social networking site Facebook - you heard of it? If you haven't check it out here: The Facebook site allows registered users to upload all kinds of shit -threats, very graphic violent images, stuff you should probably get locked up for and, if not, then at least for a period of observation by properly qualified mental practitioners; you can also keep in contact with family, friends and people you know and they may know.

3 March 2017

A minor writer, of minor standing

Dear Writer,

Thank you for your email and the material which we enjoyed reading.
Unfortunately, while there is definitely something there, we feel after some very careful, protracted consideration it's not exactly what we're looking for.
Thank you for letting us consider your work and, hey, all the best in the future...!

Kind regards,

26 February 2017

Lucozade And Other Theories...

I had a note from Albert yesterday, you know, Albert Einstein? He was complaining about the way the world was changing, how mankind only knew propensity for war or destruction or always some kind of situation which involved another losing.
And cheesecake. He maintained that since all his fancy theorems had come to fruition the taste of cheesecake had inevitably changed forever (this was another theory he was working on, The Dilution of Subatomic Particles, but never released).

21 February 2017

Career Summary - PART 2

1999 - 2001: This next period is possibly my most enjoyable period of employment. For three years I zip all over the city employed by the government in their human organ donor program, I am a courier in human body parts! What an exciting and different occupation, on 24 hour call, awaiting tragedy to strike.

9 February 2017

Career Summary - PART 1

1990 – 1992: I’m employed at a fast food restaurant, staff number SM020474. Training is vigorous, staff turnover high and many fall by the wayside. I learn the menu by rote and am promoted to FLOOR MANAGER, a nominal event. Later, demonstrating uncharacteristic initiative I identify an opportunity to embark upon a subtle, aggressive program of sabotage, though the reason for this eludes me.

3 February 2017

Never Talk To Strangers

"God is an existentialist clown!"
"I'm sorry - what did you say?" 
"You heard me! Don't fuck with me, lady...!" the woman yelled.
"Please, lower your voice a little, you'll alarm the other passengers. Now, what exactly is your problem?"
"Well, according to the voices in my head it's my duty to tell you flying as a mode of transport is not safe."
"I see, hold on a second..." the steward said and pressed a button. Almost immediately the captain appeared from behind the locked cockpit door.

31 January 2017

Burglars Have Feelings, Too.

The burglar can’t believe it, his latest victim seems unhampered by all the conveniences of modern living. He has satellite television and a television as big as a cinema screen, as flat as glass mounted across the wall in his living room. Whereas the burglar has a TV (from 1989) with only three channels.
The apartment owner’s Internet is superfast, super highspeed (the burglar performs a broadband download speed test with all his jobs as a matter of course).

28 January 2017

Space Drunk

It has being said that small changes affect big things, things in the universe, things at home, things between people. It’s about the spaces in between these things.
It’s out there.
And it’s big.
Yesterday a piece of space-junk fell from the sky and killed a woman in New Jersey. Space junk! It was actually a $50 million spy satellite we launched up there in 1978 called Night Watchman, with the Night Watchman program we could keep an eye on any countries communications which we’d done for years.

25 January 2017


Twice my wife asked what was wrong.
“You look very pale - are you sick?”
“Oh nothing, I'm just having a routine breakdown.”
“Well, can you do it in the bedroom, please, we're expecting people for dinner.”

20 January 2017

The Man Who Shot Clint Eastwood

It was Friday. Ziploc was in the toilet updating himself whilst listening to The Girl From Ipanema on headphones. He dropped out several times during the process and each time he awoke, startled. It was called Electronic Neural Convulsion. The Girl From Ipanema could do that, or maybe it was because he had it playing on REPEAT: “Tall and tan and young and lovely, The girl from Ipanema goes walking and when she passes, each one she passes goes `ah'…
All just a normal day in South Vietnam. Problem is this wasn't South Vietnam, this was downtown Los Angeles, 2092.

17 January 2017

Ampersands and Spacing

Dear Mr Albuquerque,

My name is Gretchen von Liechtenstein, I am a student studying Literature at Berlin University. May I call you Chassis? I am wondering about your name - Chassis, the body of a car, and Albuquerque, a place in New Mexico, yes? It has fascinated me inappropriately for some time now. Also, I believe, I know what you might say or have already said when any of your readers have wondered, if they asked how you got your name you would reply in typical Albuquerque manner: “The usual way, my goddamn asshole parents gave it to me - do you not know how it works, this system of names that’s been around for millennia? Are you from another planet?”

10 January 2017

The Italian-Korean

There was a white woman in the paper today claiming to be black when in fact she was clearly from Sheffield in the United Kingdom. Black people were furious and white people just said the white girl was crazy. Not because she wanted to be black - that would be racist, but because she was deluded and needed to be locked away some place for her own safety.
And others.
How had it effected her decisions? Her condition was probably pharmaceutical in nature,

7 January 2017

The Mars Uncertainty Principle

They were on Mars, Astronaut 1 and Astronaut 2 (forthwith to be abbreviated A1 and A2 to save on data up-link time). Ever since the Chinese had landed on the moon the race for Mars and beyond was on. A2 radioed his colleague, "You think life exists on other planets? Copy.”
A1 replied, "Could be - but do you not see where we are? We are the life on other planets.”
Yes, there was earth's sun over there, burning bright, warming up the galaxy, light that was already millions of years old. Anyhow, regarding his colleague no matter what was said A1 was convinced A2 was a fucking idiot.

4 January 2017

Swinger CIA.

There was a bus.
It exploded.
Terrorist in nature, not foreign, religious or political, terrorist, home-grown - organic. Though we knew little about their motivation there was this note: NEXT TIME THE BUS WON'T BE EMPTY.
I made a rapid assessment (a `rapid' assessment's a lot like a slow assessment only it's a lot quicker). Clearly it was a threat but there were threats that arrived daily via phone, email, letter, once even a singing telegram (a very dapper, but ostentatious terrorist called Baby Lotion).