Over To You - Entries The Last

And so we come to the end of our week of reader suggestions and a huge thank you to those of you who took the time to come up with suggestions. As it's the end of the week, let's go out on a double whammy. First up, we have the following suggestions from Mr Jonny Yeah of Kooba Radio fame:-

Name:- Steve Lincoln
Object:- A Copper kettle
Dialogue:- "Basingstoke? I've never even been there!"
Title:- "Blepharospasm"

And here's what that gets you, Mr Y...

Blepharospasm

It's driving me mad. Twicth, twitch, twitch. I can't think of anything else. Twitch, twitch, twitch. It's beginning to feel like it's been going on for years, an eternity, an eon. An eye-based distraction that is chipping away at my sanity. Why won't it stop?

I've tried everything to make it stop. I've squeezed my eye tightly shut, I've rubbed it really hard, I've tugged at the eyelid but still twitch, twitch, twitch. I've even started canvassing opinion at the office. That's always dangerous. Like hiccups, it turns out that everyone has a cure.

Steve Lincoln, our accounts manager, suggested that I should hold it against a chilled copper kettle. I mean, really? A copper kettle? Is that the best that people can come up with? I asked where I was supposed to get hold of one. He told me that he knew of a good antiques shop in Basingstoke.

"Basingstoke? I've never even been there!"

No, I guess I'll just just have to put up with it. Twitch, twitch, twitch. Just grin and bear it. Twitch twi- it's stopped! Oh huzzah!

*hic*

Oh, great...



To round off the week, here's the last effort - the suggestions come courtesy of one Gorgeous Girlfriend (who, to avoid cries of nepotism, will not be eligible for the prize) and are as follows:-

Name:- Samuel
Object:- 5 Doudous
Dialogue:- "I don't need a poo!.... Mummy, I've done a poo in my pants."
Title:- "I Left My Sanity At Kingston Hospital Four Years Ago"


I Left My Sanity At Kingston Hospital Four Years Ago

Once upon a time, there was a young boy called Samuel. Along with his older brother, he was the apple of his mother's eye. He often did his best to test this devotion. Statements such as "I don't need a poo!.... Mummy, I've done a poo in my pants" were often deployed and, at these times, although the patience of his mother sorely pushed, still she was utterly devoted to him.

His toy of choice was the Doudou - a sort of multi-coloured rabbity thing. of these he had three but it was not enough. So his mother scoured the interwebs and located some more, bringing his Doudou total to five. So now he has five, nearly enough to completely obscure him as he lies in his bed, and happy is he. Happy, that is, until he decides he needs six....



So there you go, a week of writing that was prompted by you lot. I said back at the start of the week that I would pick a winner and this is now the toughest bit of the week. I've enjoyed writing them for completely different reasons and it's tough to pick. But, in the end, I'm going to go with Mr Irish Gumbo's suggestions as the prize-winner for this week for the sole reason that it actually gave me some inspiration to write for Squire Kirk once again after a rather long absence.

The prize... Yes, I said there'd be a prize, The only problem here is that I haven't picked it out yet. So here's what I'm going to do. I shall select an object from my stash of stuff, send it through to the Irish one and politely request that he write a blog post inspired by said object in return (which I shall link to here once he has done so). He's a man who likes a challenge so I'm sure he'll appreciate that.

Anyway, that's your week over. Back to stuff what I have chosen from tomorrow onwards. No, don't groan, you can't have it your way all the time.