Now taking all entries for Fonky Chrissmalc Wishes…
0-500 words (or thereabouts)
No limitations on brain, body or soul EXCEPT
choose an alter ego/pseudonym/pen name for yourself and write with that.
email sfonkson(at)hotmail.com
and include a little introduction, and any of your own shit you want to publicise, if you want to.
Malcolm J. Z. Sfonkson
x
Hickorius and Mallum Dae sellotaped me to my Sproutfest cushion-adorned stool and forced me at spoonpoint to type up their superior inventive stylings.
It’s my guests’ Fonky Chrissmalc wish, number 16, to be find as per Euge Yule in the infamous ‘Pages’ section….
…just try over there —> —> —> —>
The wish is called ‘Remember When We Met’.
As for you, I remember meeting you in some warm room with a radio playing. What was the song? I don’t remember of course… I was too busy looking at that thing you have on your chin… Oh never mind.
If you have experienced any emotional reaction whatsoever to these writings why type some catswank of your own in the various comments boxes
Malcy
…Actually, what’s the point?
So you devote some time to a hobby or a blog
So you get a little scared when you see some neighbour’s dog
So you work in a place with a little reward, a little pay
So you have a lover, and send a text message every day
So you see other people and sometimes you feel sad
But you eat in restaurants, and that isn’t so bad
Sometimes you start to feel glum, one reason or another
Your neighbour’s dog annoys you and your mother and your lover
You complain a little on your blog, and then your mobile phone
But you love restaurants too much, and don’t like being alone
You love good supermarkets too much, and don’t like being alone
You love the internet too much, and don’t like being alone
You love things being done for you and you don’t being alone
You love not needing to really try, you’d rather not be alone
You are alone
nobody knows what you’re thinking
And in a hundred years, you’ll be dead.
Sort your life out and decide what you want to do. Don’t let those “faceless soulless entities” decide for you. (They’re more than willing). The choice, as they say, is yours.
Similar vibes for Wish number 15, pages section, over on the right hand side
—–> ——-> ——>
Tomorrow, more eshcapism – a new guest author. Praise ye Jah, it’s a sizzla.
MS
Excellent news!
For My Very Own Fourteenth Fonky Chrissmalc Wish, two weeks after my word-filled waters broke at sogoodsoright.wordpress.com, I prezent to thee and thine possibly my favourite Sproutfest treat since the whole thing started…. Too fucking bad it’s not one of my own….
Even more dodge is the fact that it’s the very first…
VOMAN to grace these ripe pixels..
While you’re at it, go enfind Sfonkson a Voman of his own… He needs one most of all after reading pornographic materials like Annon Sic’s poem.
Sod off n read it and see how shite everyone else is – wish number 14, somewhere over there in the ‘Pages’ section———->——->
M. Sfonkson 14-12-08, Jo’burg
Zinging into my mail-potty one rancid day last week came our 13th Fonky Chrissmalc Wish, submitted on the yet-quivering dissected tip of a Pizza Cheesestring muncher’s tongue.
The Wish is called ‘Revolution’ and can be found in the ever-expanding list of Sproutfest goooood tidings over here in the ‘Pages’ section —-> —> –>
I thought I was the first to receive cheese manifesto but it turns out Sir David Attenbrough dallied with the author a Few years back…
I caught up with Britain’s treasured gorilla stroker in some Miami bass night in Hartlepool and grilled him about it:
Davidos Maximos, previously known as the Free Fromage, has a long and impressive history of self-important monologues, to which few individuals – animate or otherwise – pay attention. It is unfortunate that he is not larger than 14 inches in height for were it otherwise, some people may actually take him seriously. But they don’t. However, it may be that his vision of paletary domination may become a reality. After all, stranger things have happened. For instance, a man who shares a surname with a woman’s naughty bits was president, and there are robots doing wheelies on Mars. Don’t rule anything out, is my advice.
Enjoy
Tomorrow – more guest shenanigans
Proverbially Banging!
Only 15 days till Sprout fest… 15 more of my Fonky Chrissmalc Wishes… and best of all, this time an experienced prawn has spunk forth some grade A electronic, psychologic, catatonic LitRaChar.
So who is Jurgen Strapp? And why is the oversized munchkin having his ‘Christmas at the Beach’?
We here at the Sfonkson cellar have been racking our bran trying to get some Ready Brek off the Germanic prose purveyor, and while were at it grilling him for info about his true identity…
All may be revealed at wish 11, ‘Christmas at the Beach’,the ‘Pages’ section over there ——–> to the right.
Gonav a goosie!
O
HAPPY
DAY
!!!!!!
This morning I received a greasy triangle of toast in my mail cauldron… expertly engraved through the medium of Sproutfest Hope an’ Joy was the 10th Fonky Chrissmalc Wish, ‘In The Asylum’…!!!!! – which I present TO you JUST a few inches to the right of the screen ——> ——->
This is the site’s first poem,
and the poem is a sex train. If you enjoy this sort of thing you might equally want to wipe your see balls over Anthony Richardson and his blog at www.mentalnoise.wordpress.com…
Enough about that clown here’s the ‘In the Asylum’ author to interpret…
My name is Mark. I don’t have a surname. I wrote a poem about when my friend and I lived in a cupboard in a mental asylum for a little while. He does all the talking. This is about the only talking I get to do. We found this woman and thought she might like to hang out with us in the cupboard for a bit. I think we scared her.
——> ——-> ——-> ——-> ——-> (number 10)
Yip yip the interlude.
LA LA ALA LALALA LAAAA
Nowt much to see round here so why not go and have a mooch around the pages over th>>>>>>>>>>e>>>>>>>r>>>>>>>>>e>>>>>>>
Today my Fonky Chrissmalc Wish is the second part of ‘Granday wi’Extra Cream’, which explores a period of intense sexual frustration I endured when working as a schoolmaster in Croydon.
More seasonal soup is on the cauldron now my pretties…. The only question is, what six letter word means “to radiate kindness, to enjoy the company of pets and (young) children”? ????????????…
WANT TO WRITE A CHRISTMAS WISH? News to follow
Spiking tiny intrusive digits into our post-Saint Nicholas comedowns this week come two well-established underage authors. Their teeny little flaccid prose has been hacked from the freshest slab of entries in this years competition (and we mean competition, with over twenty bazenty stories aplenty). Ker-ching!
My 7th Chrissmalc wish is Jack Crinkle’s cunningly entitled ‘My Mouse’. He’s only 7, the clever little shite. Good job he doesn’t know how to use a computer yet or this blog’d be out of business… Anyhow here’s what the Telegraph had to say about ‘My Mouse’:
“My Mouse” covers Jack’s trip to Kenya to meet his relatives before he goes on to attend Harvard. It gives the reader a look at Jack’s extended family, and the interactions between the members. It is also a look inside life in Kenya, and Jack’s search to get to know his father. It is also in this section where Jack realizes exactly who he is. Jack forms a fairly strong relationship with his half sister Auma, in spite of the distance and the difficulties which it creates. Both of them seem to be searching to define themselves in the world in which they live.
The second entry in this season’s Mini-People Mini-Fiction Mastercraft Showdown Semi-Final 1 is ‘A Trip to Town’, written by Katherine “Katie” Doom, six. Little Katie shouldn’t need any introduction to anyone who’s breathed a gulp of this earth’s fine gases in the past 3 years (since she first decided to put pen to paper). Just in case you need a quick recap, here’s The New York Times’ take:
‘A Trip to Town’ has been a great help to my boyfriend who, after reading it, is now an expert. I have never had oral sex like it! I highly recommend any man reading it who wants to give his girlfriend REAL pleasure in the sack. “
Enjoy! >>> >>> >>> >>> >>>
My fifth Fonky Chrissmalc Wish has a serious erotic subtext so lay some bog roll down on ya swivel chair first..
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MALCY SFONKSON PREZENTS 