Chuck Norris has a brother. And I think I’ve met him.

I was sitting in a pub in Dubai, minding my own business, reading my Twitter feed where people are still saying Hello to Adele and Donald Trump is still acting like a lunatic. Or is he?

Then he plunked himself in the open seat next to me, making a very loud, but painful noise. Like he was having a contraction or worse.

“I’ve broken three ribs,” he declares to anyone or no-one. My parents told me never to talk to strangers, so I ignored the man.

“I was released from hospital today.”

It dawned on me that he was actually trying to talk to me. Continue reading

The oldest trick in the book.

They stood in the doorway, two cats caught in a rain storm.  Emotionally drenched and sad, looking dreadful and borderline pathetic.

“Something happened.”  They said together, almost rehearsed.

And I knew.  Like all men would. An instinctive notion, like having to pee or being hungry.  It’s not so much understanding why you know, it’s just accepting the fact that you do.  Another basic instinct that’s been protecting humans since the days when we still resembled apes and were covering our private parts with fur.

The “something happened” implied damage to the car. Continue reading