You know that feeling where you're saying something, and in mid sentence you forget what you were talking about... What was I saying?

Stories Once upon a time, there was a man sat at a desk, and on the desk was a computer. A second earlier, he had known what he was doing. All his ideas had been mapped out in his head. But how to begin? His fingers slowly typed out a sentence. He read through it, hesitated, then deleted it. It wouldn't do. He struggled to remember what he had started out trying to achieve. Ah, yes. He smiled to himself, and began to type the first sentence: Once upon a time, there was a man sat at a desk, and on the desk was a computer...

Beer & Elephants David was drunk. He knew he was drunk. There was no other way to explain this. Why the hell were there elephants on the submarine? Outside, the pressure on the walls increased. He and the elephants were now thirty thousand feet below sea level. From the corner of his eye, David glimpsed something move. He turned away from the elephants and stared as a gigantic human, at least twice his size, stepped toward him. He screamed, and in the same instant, the behemoth vanished. In its place stood the captain. 'You're supposed to be piloting the submarine!' The captain bellowed. David wasn't sure which he preferred: the captain, or the giant. 'Nonsense,' he slurred, 'I am plotting on the submarine. I mean, piloting the submarine.' He turned to the control panel and pressed a random button. The theme from Titanic started playing on the stereo system. In answer, the captain pulled from beneath David's feet a crate containing at least twenty empty beer bottles. David was sure there had only been three a moment ago. The elephants shook their heads at him. The captain glared at him and stormed out. David produced a bottle from inside his jacket. He took a deep swig. This beer tasted strange. He looked at the bottle. It bore two words: 'Submarine Fuel.' David couldn't read this, of course, but spat it out anyway. The fuel went all over the cockpit, reached the cigarette lighter, and promptly caught fire.

Presents Cyril watched anxiously as his mother inspected the gift. She was a wizened old woman of seventy-three, with a tongue sharp as a needle and a temper strong as an ox. He hadn't been sure what to get her for Christmas, so had got her something safe. It didn't seem very safe now that he had given it to her. His mother looked up, eyes narrowed. 'Strange gift, this is. For an old woman like me. A watch.' Cyril looked at the watch. It had cost him ninety pounds and was plated with fourteen-karat gold. He had thought it a bargain. Some people can speak sharply. Cyril's mother opted to sharply remain silent. Cyril suddenly felt the urge to say something. 'Of course, it's only part of a bigger pre-' 'What else is there?' Snapped his mother. Cyril hesitated. 'Well, there's, y'know, well, there's, um, the box to keep the watch in...' He tried feebly. 'Right. The box.' 'Yes, mother.' 'Of course, I won't be using it a lot, what with the fact I'll be wearing the watch...' Cyril realised that he was steadily digging himself into a hole that was already deep when he started. If he was lucky, he could escape the situation having only spent a hundred pounds, he estimated. He realised his mother was waiting for him to speak. 'There's also, um...' Cyril said the first thing that came into his mind. 'There's the DVDs! I got you a box set of the first series of, uh... the Hour?' His mother nodded. 'And?' 'A, uh, book about how to play bridge! Yes. Bridge.' Cyril finished triumphantly. He was pleased with himself. He had wormed his way out of it, having only promised about thirty pounds of gifts. Why was mother was still staring expectantly at him? Cyril sighed, and gave way. 'Tell you what, mother... Why don't I just give you a hundred pounds, and you go and spend it however you like?' 'Two hundred.' 'One fifty.' 'One seven five.' 'Done.' 'Oh, Cyril! You're such a dear,' his mother said. She stood up slowly and hugged him. 'Now. When do I get the money?'

Crazy All of my friends think I'm mad. I'm not mad. Just a unicorn.