Graeme Sandford

Graeme Sandford, the man, the myth, the master of meticulously misspelled masterpieces, was born in a quaint corner of the world where tea is an art form and biscuits are never safe from a dunking. From a young age, Graeme displayed an uncanny knack for turning everyday moments into comedic gold, much to the bewilderment of his neighbours, family and the occasional passing pigeon.

As a child, he once convinced his entire school that he could speak fluent dolphin, earning him the affectionate nickname “Flipper,” which he wore with pride until someone brought him a fish as a snack. His academic career was a whirlwind of creativity, with essays often featuring entirely invented historical figures and wildly imaginative theories – such as the idea that cows are just horses in disguise. His teachers marked his papers with a mix of admiration and absolute confusion.

Graeme’s foray into the adult world saw him take on a variety of careers, each more puzzling than the last. He was briefly a professional queue stander, a highly competitive sport in his homeland, and even tried his hand at stand-up comedy, only to discover he had an unintentional talent for sit-down comedy – audiences would laugh so hard they literally couldn’t stay on their feet.

Despite his many achievements, Graeme is best known for his groundbreaking work in the field of “punology,” an art form he honed to perfection. His ability to drop a pun into even the most serious conversation is both legendary and mildly terrifying. Wordplay enthusiasts regard him as both a hero and a cautionary tale.

When not busy entertaining the masses with his wit, Graeme is an avid collector of things that make no sense—his prize possession being a toaster that exclusively toasts bread into the shape of clouds. He claims it was a prototype from a whimsical inventor, though skeptics suspect it’s just broken.

Today, Graeme Sandford continues to charm and confuse the world in equal measure, proving that life is far too short to take seriously. He lives by his motto: “A day without laughter is like a doughnut without sprinkles—it’s still good, but it could be so much better.”

Author of:

Wonky Words

Here are a couple of ‘Drabbles” for you.

“A Drabble?”

“Okay, you oiks! You rabble!

Let’s get to business;

we are going to write a drabble!”

They looked at me

with a glaze to their eyes,

questions on their lips,

and with a thought process clogging up the CPU.

“It’s a short story.” I explained – putting them out of their misery.

“One hundred words – no more, no less.”

They visibly relaxed. Most of them knew a hundred words.

“And to spice it up a little…”

They paused in their movements.

“… none of the words can be repeated.”

You could have dropped a pin and heard its screams as it fell.

———

‘A 100-word Drabble (with no repetition)’

A Drabble!

One hundred words.

Without repetition!

How on Earth am I going to do that?

It’s impossible.

Can’t be done.

Nobody in their right mind would even try such an enterprise.

Mankind, myself included, is not ready for such strange writing formats.

What about crafting my words alphabetically using every letter of the alphabet four times? Missing zeds, obviously.

No, wouldn’t work – far too silly.

Perhaps, by seeking inspiration through prosaic research articles, productivity has potential.

Sadly, someone’s library ticket has recently expired.

Subsequent foraging readily confirms text books tell tall tales – destiny recommends: try again tomorrow.

Weather permitting.

NB

*You might notice that the word ‘words’ has been used twice. This is the flaw that is required to allow the obtaining of perfection. Or I got it wrong.