JOHN MARTIN

Has anyone thought what we’re going to look like when eventually we emerge from our houses? I think it’s quite possible I will come out looking like Riff Raff from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I can handle the prospect of long straggly hair and a seriously bald forehead. It’s the expectation I’ll be able… Continue reading Hair despair

I am sure readers will have many other stories about good Samaritans appearing in this time of need. This story will go down in my family folklore. My older sister Kate has been living and working in sunny Western Australia for a while but her sons and grandchildren live in the island state of Tasmania… Continue reading Dave, you’re our hero

No-one has to urge me to wash my hands. Heck, I’ve been a compulsive hand-washer as long as I can remember. As a bit of an introvert, I’ve also been training for self-isolation all my life. This is the good news. The bad news for me is my meagre book sales have become even more… Continue reading The Humpty Dumpty Challenge

If you’re in Australia (or that neck of the woods) and you’re interested in buying one of my books in paperback, here’s a tip which might save you money. My books published print-on-demand with KDP Print are prohibitively expensive in Australia because Amazon ships them in from the US, and you have to pay for… Continue reading A DownUnder solution

Here’s a sneak preview of the first scene of the book I’ve started writing. It’ll be the fourth and final instalment in my Funny Capers DownUnder series. I’m writing into the dark on this one, I haven’t even got a title and bear in mind what I’ve written thus far is very rough and ready,… Continue reading So it begins again

I am pretty sure they had music in the 1950s. At least, that is what I told a young woman I met at the CD stand in a budget store the other day. “Excuse me (middleaged gentleman),” asked the woman, who was just 17 or 18, as we browsed side-by-side. “Do you know when the… Continue reading Turn that funky music down, boy

‘NOW TELL me,’ said the psychiatrist after settling his patient down on the couch, ‘How long have you thought you were really Santa Claus?’ ‘Santa Claus? My name is George!’ The man lifted his head and scowled. ‘What makes you think I think I am Santa Claus?’ ‘Er, w-w-well. I don’t get a lot of… Continue reading Santa Claus contemplates his navel