About Summar Sole

I am only half an author because 50% of me is a righter and some bad news, the other half left. I am a Private person hoping to be a Corporal Person and use humour to hide the fact I am not very funny.

I first started writing comedy shortly after I picked up a pen and soon realised I had a gift as it was covered in wrapping paper. Finding an agent proved problematic because spies are very good at hiding. I bleached my hair and went undercover as James Blond but got trapped under the blanket. I panicked because I needed rescuing and called the emergency cervixes but they wouldn’t progress the call until I told them how my vagina was in distress.

I used to find it difficult to write long one-line jokes but then I discovered you could rotate the paper.

The best advice I have never received was “having learned the hard way that the easy way goes a long way in paving the way in a big way to losing your way, you should in no way, whilst on the way,  rub someone up the wrong way by going the roundabout way and not take the direct way, in short, be concise”.

Oscar Wilde once said “I never said that” and just before that, I have been inspired to make up quotes from famous people.

I found humour in things that made me laugh and took a lot of Joy but her parents wanted her back. I tried to exercise Restraint, which is a stupid name for a dog but found focusing at the opticians was a much better option. I find inspiration in many places, which is another stupid name for a dog and “success” soon followed, mostly because inspiration was in heat. “Writing” brings me a lot of things, which again is a stupid name for a dog and I try to end all of my written humour with a full stop.

I live alone when my family is out of the house which means I can experience low decibel urination AKA enjoy the p*ss and quiet. I get asked a lot of questions when out shopping and one that comes up often is “Who’s next please?”.

I try to help struggling writers but I find two hands on a biro is not productive and as with all authors struggling to create material, I need to pick cotton. I am very goal-driven which means I deliver football supplies and I try, especially when playing rugby, to see the bigger picture and found 60 inches with surround sound to be a good choice.

The Very Beginning

I started life the same as everyone else by breaking into an egg and found that it grew on me so I stayed. This caused my mum to complain about throwing up and she developed moaning sickness. Being an embryo makes you feel powerless, mostly because there are no USB sockets. I was very close to my mum because we did everything together.

It was extremely difficult to brag as a foetus because it doesn’t have the same impact saying “I will put my money where my mouth is going to be”.  It is a tough job being a foetus and I couldn’t get emotional because wearing your heart on your sleeve is grounds for abortion.

By the end of week six, I had a heart-warming story because I was pumping my own blood. Being warm enough to concentrate helped me with my alphabet so I could do A, B, D and E but not C because I had no eyes yet.

Before organs and soft tissues developed, I was just living with the bare bones. I was getting everything I needed sent direct to me without even making a phone call, that is what I call excellent womb service. I was expecting major organs to turn up but didn’t have the womb to put a large keyboard. Apparently, all my organs have been formed at this time but I couldn’t find a single one I could play chopsticks on. There was no point in me arguing about any of this as I had no legs to stand on.

I was curious to know when my kid-neys turn into adult knees and I heard Mum discussing how her kidneys filter my urine but I think she was just taking the p*ss. The wee hours used to be those after midnight but since mummy is urinating more, it is all of them.

I hoped the mood roundabout was more fun than the mood swings Daddy complained about but on a positive note, I couldn’t hear the noise from the 50% increase in blood volume because I had no ears yet.

I thought I had lost face, turns out I hadn’t grown one yet and being very flexible my head would often rub up against my genitals, that was my first brain teaser. You can imagine my surprise at the first leg of my development, I nearly sh*t myself when I saw another one.

It was difficult to be taken seriously at 8 weeks old as I was mouth and no trousers and the consequences of mummy lying tummy down on firm bed means I said that with a straight face.

Having a bladder for a pillow, I was always on the pi*s but it was s also tiring growing up next to the intestines as you feel sh*t all day.

After the 12 week point I could start telling jokes as my gag reflex was forming. As I developed further, I could sense I was going to fall out of my mum because as close as we were, I knew I would grow out of her.

Mum didn’t study at all for the pelvic exam, in fact, she was very laid back about the hole thing and If you think a pelvic exam is a pain in the arse then you should say something because they are doing it wrong. There were times I thought she was going into labour but then she ripped up the application form and stayed with the Conservatives.

The midwife said the berth plan was to buy a boat mooring in the future but for now, she wanted a safe birth. I thought a hospital room was a better option.

Childbearing is like an expedition to the Antarctic i.e. always pushing south. I found Mum to be unreasonable during labour and was very pushy. As labour progressed, I knew I wasn’t coming out so I was possibly in the closet. The midwife often gave mummy a hand, sometimes up to the wrist. I remember looking out just before I was born and thinking things looked hairy. Thinking back, as I aged towards being a zero-year-old, the closer to an arse I got.

I wanted a deep emotional discussion with mum about being born because it was going to be easier if she really opened herself up. Being born is very much an out-of-body experience and I found if you want a good start in life then you have to find an opening. I didn’t believe them when they said I was a breech baby, I thought they were pulling my leg.

Human birth is weird, you have 3 legs of development called trimesters and just when you think you are finished with the last leg, you end up between legs. My birth was spectacular because mum had a grand opening. She wasn’t quite fully dilated for my breech birth which was an eye-opening experience and it was a very tense time coming through the birth canal so no time for biting lips.

My womb lease agreement had come to term and I was contractionally obliged to leave i.e. given the amniotic sack.  The experience was traumatic and I had to take a breath, especially after cutting the cord with my mum. We were both exhausted and she looked like a motorcycle i.e. she was two tyred.

Being born is an emotional moment. Dad wiped his tears and the doctor stitched mums. I thought for a minute I was Swedish because people kept saying I was Bjorn. Once I was out in the world, I found out my birth wait was 9 months and while I was putting on the pounds, I found out there is no such thing as baby wait because we are impatient as f**k .

I had questions from the start, such as “does my baby oil need changing every 3000 miles?” and does baby oil stop a baby from squealing?  I started life with an identity crisis but I didn’t want to be a baby about it. The trauma of being a hungry baby made me want to hit the bottle so I let mummy know and she made me feel a right tit. Being breastfed is very off-grid as I am living off the fat of the gland but I think I was framed when they put me in a nappy because I was given a bum wrap.

The childcare worker said I should be moving my arms at around 8 weeks but I didn’t have any weapons caches and I felt things were getting out of hand mostly because I had a weak grip.

Babies are very loving because they always give a s**t but I couldn’t keep a secret without a nappy on because I couldn’t hold my own p**s .I never liked baby powder though, I always thought it was something you could shove up your arse.

At four months I could give advance warning as I now had the neck muscles to give a heads up and at this age I could reach for toys when in the sitting position but I couldn’t reach mummy because I didn’t have her number.

I am starting to hold things in my hand and give a short wave with them. I first started with a very tiny wave i.e. a micro wave but it was too heavy and once I master medium wave I hope to hear some good radio.  Once my flailing hands reach the thermostat, I suspect there will be a heat wave. It didn’t take long to figure out that Schlong wave was daddy making his junk bounce up and down in front of mummy which generally resulted in a shock wave when mummy batted it out her face.

I was lying on my back playing with my toes and thought that was quite a feet. I was now able to raise both arms to indicate to Mummy that I wanted picking up but she drove straight past me.

I liked to give feedback, mostly in the form of vomit and I could now get in the crawling position, which has a lot in common with the missionary position because we are both going balls out to get somewhere. I have developed a full laugh now so my sense of humour is in its infancy and I spent a lot of time reflecting while using the mirror.

Nine months

It was in the summer I experienced my first eat wave which describes food on a spoon held by an epileptic. Eating food was a tense time because it always came to a head.

The thought of moving on my hands and knees made my flesh crawl and I was head over heels about my first roly-poly.  I was very into rock and roll as a nine-month-old baby because it was how I moved my body. Being a modern baby, it is now the time I can stand on my own 60.96cm (formerly 2 feet).

I was indecisive and sat on the fence a lot so Mummy stopped me from going into the garden. I can recognise certain members of the nuclear family, especially Mummy because she is “da bomb”. I can recognise two types of family, immediate and extended. That describes how much time I want to pass before seeing them.

Twelve months

My parents were very into child safety and wanted a better baby gait which is why they were always yelling at me to walk with more style.

The one-year point was confusing. I could pull myself up but I couldn’t pull myself together. I could pull the plug but not your leg. I could pull a face but not my finger out. I could pull to pieces but not the rug from under you. I could pull my punches but I couldn’t pull over. I could pull away but not pull rank. I could pull the wool over your eyes but I couldn’t pull any strings. I couldn’t pull in, pull off, pull out, do pull-ups, pull ahead or pull out all the stops. I just hoped I could pull through.

Physical development at this stage was an interesting time for me. When I didn’t want to walk, I would bottom shuffle which always got a laugh when it was my turn to deal the cards. The healthcare worker said I should be able to pick up a piece of string with my first finger and thumb but I forgot which one grew first.

Mummy expected me to throw a small ball sometime soon but I doubt the nursery is big enough for a formal dance and banquet. While I was pondering the big stuff, I wondered if the best time to become Buddhist was before 2 because until then, I was 1 with everything.

My friends have noticed I am a bit more mobile so stopped calling on the landline. I was getting to the age where speech was expected to be more recognisable so I memorised Winston Churchill, Martin Luther King etc.  My speech was also supposed to be a bit clearer so I worked on words such as “see-through”, “transparent” and “streak free”.

Eighteen months

I could walk upstairs holding a hand but the prosthetics department wouldn’t let me keep one so I was stuck on the first floor. I could follow “simple commands” which is another stupid name for a dog.

I enjoy books and can turn a Paige on my own but I think she was mostly gay before I met her. Speaking of relationships, it was at about the 18-month point that I started to bond with my close family members but less so since they hid the glue.

After 18 Months

I could run well, but I tended to find people could figure out the whole rope, bucket and water thing by themselves. Speaking of water, I could drink from a cup but didn’t like it because it smelled like sweaty testicles.

At 24 months  I could correctly use words like ‘I’, ‘Mine’ and ‘You’ which shows my desire to bury explosives near you.

As a three year old, I remember the places I used to have my terrible two’s tantrums, they were my old stomping grounds.

I was told at 4 years old that I should be able to draw people with recognisable body parts but I asked to use pens instead. As hand-eye coordination evolved my spoon-lifting skills were noticeable but when I tried showing them forklift skills they threw me out of the warehouse. Speaking of throws, I tried to show mummy and daddy mine but they said it didn’t match the room colour scheme.

It was at five years old, my mother told me that I was old enough to get dressed and undressed by myself which made me angry so I cross-dressed. During these times I realised I could balance on one foot and my parents were impressed with my hops until they found the rest of my beer brewing kit.

I could ask for Walkers Salt and Vinegar with no problem at this age as I had very crisp speech and I liked listening to stories and short tails but the dog got nervous when I put my ear near his bum. Speaking of tails some people of my age had pen friends but I preferred real people. Some of those real people would ask “Where does dandruff come from?” I would reply “Not sure off the top of my head”.

As my fifth year faded I often asked people to bear with me which meant we pulled Salmon from the river together and took a s#it in the woods.

Getting Older

As I aged, I became interested in superheroes and discovered that someone who writes wrongs is a court stenographer. Wanting to help others, I became passionate about giving blood because it is from the heart. I soon realised that someone who stares at queues is a wait watcher and while I was waiting, I did a lot of squats because that led to rock bottom.

My first clue I needed my eyes tested was when I booked an appointment at the obstetricians’. The second was when they started checking how dilated I was and were not looking at my pupils (I don’t teach a class so they couldn’t anyway) and the third was when I mistook speculum for a brand of spectacles and turned down their offer of lubrication before fitting. Weirdest eye appointment ever.

That experience led me to embrace life and made me go head-first into things, especially hats. It made me a little outspoken so I tried keeping a civil tongue in my head but the mortuary wanted it back. I couldn’t emotionally bond with my fingernails so I now keep them at arm’s length. I also figured out proctologists spend a lot of time looking into the hole thing and if they are blowing smoke up your arse they should take their cigarette break elsewhere.

It all got too much, so I started hurting myself with pig meat — they call that self-hamming. At the amputee support group, I learned whoever gets to the prosthetic cupboard first wins the arms race, which led to a debate on coats of arms — apparently AK-47s make terrible waterproofs.

When I emptied a box and climbed inside, I realised I was finally content. Feeling boxed in made me wonder if all fellatio is organised from head office. My glasses kept slipping, but I tried to keep my head up — that led me to think about wedding rings. On one hand, do I wear one; on the other hand, I don’t.

Having left the box and stretching my legs, I wondered if a gaited community was one where they all walk the same. Speaking of walking, if you absolutely do not believe in the concept of handouts, could you ever go hitchhiking and thumb a lift? One trip to a mine made me so depressed, I have never been so low. I tried to raise my spirits so I put the Christmas drinks in the loft. While I was up there, I got to thinking that people who have sex with anything come in all shapes and sizes.

I don’t think there is machinery to help with masturbation; it is the sort of thing you have to do by hand. Speaking of hands, there are going to be a lot of unhappy grizzlies if Americans want the right to bear arms and I don’t like the “hand in glove” approach because I keep all the handwear I find.

I ordered a load of junk food online and developed a problem with my wait mostly because I couldn’t get an earlier delivery slot. It was while I was waiting that I realised I liked the concept of second-hand because it makes clapping possible.

My ex used to say that I was stubborn and never gave any ground so I threw some rocks at them. They complained I had many shortcomings but I always thought my orgasm was of average length.  It was always pointed out that to get on in life I should put my best foot forward which must be the one that is always right?. It never helped because the other one was always left behind and I just stood there with my legs spread apart. They regularly said success comes from a lot of time working “balls to the wall” so I started naked rock climbing.

There’s way too much toxic masculinity on TV these days. A little rebranding might soften the edges — Chuckle Norris, Tomfoolery Cruise, Jackie Buddhist Chant, James ‘Let’s’ Bond, Emotional Bruise Willis, Jason Bourne Again, and Iron My Own Clothes Man. A lot of these action figures would probably trigger flashbacks — that’s when the streaker runs back the way he came.

When asked how do I identify, I usually reply “at a police line up”. If asked about pro-nuns, I would say “I was neither pro nor against nuns”. The nuns won’t talk to me since I asked them if I could replace confession with “couch to 5K” to exercise my demons. I got chucked out of confession for asking if it was called hole milk because that is what it comes out of and is a bum steer what a quadriplegic does to drive a car.

The last company I worked for was very up and down but I was chairman of the spring board. Saying that, work was busy for conjoined twins working there because everything for them was back to back. We had someone call us once and say they were a head hunter, I told them good luck finding a blow job.  We tried to recruit sunbathing anorexics but they were very thin on the ground but that made me realise that my ideal body wait was 5 minutes. Being very aware of what I was eating made me only eat tinned food so I was a canny consumer.

Outside of work I enjoy performing at my local drama group. After one performance, they told me to take a bow so I broke into the archery shop. While I was there, I expanded my skills by adding another string to my bow. I found out you can do a lot of damage with a bow to a person because if you stand too close, you head butt them. Some people can be so ungrateful. I took one of the stolen bows and gave it away, no strings attached. I wasn’t quite getting the hang of it so I hired a bow instructor and they said I was closer to a curtsey than a bow. The archery instructor said I needed to learn how to draw a bow first so I took up art classes. He then said I should try crossbow so I got angry and lowered my head. He gave in and said try long bow instead, I am still waiting for him to tell me I can lift my head up.

Growing Up

The school I went to had little money and was considered rough mostly because they put pebble dash everywhere and it was in the middle of a pore town where everyone had bad skin. It was so poor, the bullies could only get IOU’s for lunch money. Assembly was in the main hall because that is where we built our own desks and Office 2000 described how many temps worked there in a year. It was so bad, the only time you could feel safe was when trying to figure out the combination in the headmasters office.

In my school, sentences were what parents served and spelling was what Harry Potter did with his wand. It was the sort of school that thought the 11 plus was half a maths problem and the only way pupils would work harder was if you blinked a lot. It was so rough, AA meetings and parent evenings were done at the same time and most years the school photo was cut and paste from Only Fans profiles or mug shots.

You could find reception by the main entrance and radio 1 was clearest. Our school was very much into testing, especially pregnancy and STDs and the only ones passed regularly were eye and dentist. It was such a sexually charged place we renamed the playground to the foreplay ground, and the headmaster was whoever was voted best at fellatio.

After school, I had homework to do such as repointing the chimney and I could be found with my head in a book, especially if it was raining and I had no umbrella. School told me that my grammar needs more work which isn’t true because she is retired with grandad. They were so strict, everyone had to use slide rules and go down it one at a time. They even enforced rules of engagement by making sure the man got down on one knee and banned all potential blunt weapons like drama clubs.

They were very mean at my school. The only capitalised A written on my tests was when a teacher wrote “Arsehole” on it and there was more chance of your teacher being on a register than taking one. It wasn’t social distancing that transferred some lessons onto zoom, it was the teachers not allowed within 100m of a school. I think I can safely say our teachers put the sensual into the non-consensual.

We had far too many monitors in our school which sounds good until you realise they were ankle and not computer. We were told to expect heavy police presents but those bastards never gifted me anything. The only time our teachers exercised restraint was running away from the police while handcuffed but that explains why teachers always complain they feel their hands are tied at work. The school requested uniform be worn at all times but the police said that would compromise their undercover drug team.

The closest we would get to a school running event is when someone noticed the police drug dogs coming through the gates. They tried the hard sell but when that failed they used the hard cell. That meant the police enforced the lessons of right and wrong i.e. when we did wrong, we got read our rights. I tried joining the police but they saw me coming with the superglue. We saw our fair share of police single-use body bags; I assume they were because they are not bags for life.

My school developed a protection mechanism of understatement for their press releases and parent meetings. Throwing books at a rival gang was a “vigorous exchange of words”. An attempt at eye-stabbing was “tried to make him see his point” and muggings were “donations to the community”. “Refused gifts of wrist jewellery” for resisting arrest and “was carrying a flick knife because he forgot his flick fork and flick spoon”.

Kids at my school tended to be a lot like their parents, there were a lot of sobriety chips off the old block. I remember one kid telling me about his grandmother’s exotic cooking when she made nan bread and that a nana-second was how long it took for her to list her ailments. The best one was the nana-particle, the dirt only a grandmother can see that you missed while hoovering.

Relationships

I thought I could find romance at the winner’s podium because they could be the won but it seems all winners put themselves first and regularly cross the line. I tried dating fell runners but they all ran for the hills. I thought marathon runners would go the distance and take everything in their stride but they all wanted a cheering crowd to finish which made sex awkward. Relay runners were the worst for sex, they would put in maximum effort for a short time and then hand over to someone else.

I wanted someone flexible so joined a brittle bone support group but found they were just a bare-bones skeleton organisation. I felt I had a lot to lose so joined Weight Watchers but found there was way too much waist for my liking, they were losing pounds all the time. Romance was hard to find amongst those who didn’t want to chew the fat. It seemed I couldn’t find love but love handles were everywhere. When I did meet someone, I felt a bit wobbly and they told me to let it go. I told them I was overweight and lonely for the same reason, I had had a lot of dates.

I remember our first romantic meal together and they asked if I wanted a child, I said no because I preferred a starter first. They then asked what are my interests, to which I replied “5% savings and 7% on my mortgage”.

There were some big questions like why are you so fat and are you a massive arsehole but they soon put the mean into meaningful life questions and wanted to know why are we here……. didn’t I know any better restaurants.

As the conversation moved towards politics, they asked “What party do I prefer?”, I said, “Birthday usually but housewarming can be just as good”. For some reason, they wanted to know if I was a morning person so I told them not really, I get over death quite quickly. Then they asked if we were exclusive, I said yes, I am not sharing news about us with anyone else. That was followed by “Where was I on the introvert to extrovert scale?”. Not sure I said, I think I am more on the convert-to-pervert scale.

I then had to tell them something about me. I said falling asleep was easy, I can do that with my eyes closed. Sometimes I throw animal flesh at strangers so I can meet new people.

I tried being focused on one goal but the football coach told me to stop squinting and get off the pitch. One of the most important things about a relationship was that there was someone else in it and my guilty pleasure was watching sentencing at court. When it comes to star signs, I am unsure about them but I imagine it would say “Straight On For Alpha Centauri”. I enjoy travelling from continent to continent but oddly when I am in continent, I urinate more.

I would describe the date as intense and all-consuming, mostly because they ate all the sharing platters. They told a story about a couple of fender benders. “2 dents?” I enquired. “I’m not fu*k**g dense” they replied. Once finished they went Dutch and split the bill i.e. they pretended not to speak English and split before the bill came. I tried to find grace in the situation but there was no one in the restaurant of that name, there was no hope or joy either so I was thoroughly miserable. I tried to pull myself together and turn a corner but it turns out we were in a cul de sac. How could someone be so callus, maybe they needed to moisturise more? Thinking back, I was confused about the lack of personal grooming odours, they made no scents to me.

I thought my best chance of finding love was with a partner who had common ground, so I looked for people squatting in the park. I wasn’t interested in one-night stands, but one evening of doggie style was ok.  I didn’t want it to just be about sex, I wanted them to be kind, confident and patient meaning kind of good in bed, confident they were good in bed with no patience to get to bed.

Family

I have a large family, thanks to the obesity gene, and the roots can be traced all the way back to the garden. My family tree is a deciduous one that is part-owned by several people related to each other. If you look back far enough, you can see we have oriental roots ever since Japanese Knotweed took hold, and if you look at the roots of my grandparents, you will see a lot of grey.

Many of my family are slippery characters, which makes piggyback races difficult because they are people I just cannot get on with. Being slippery characters, identifying them is easy, they are the ones wearing slippers.

We are not a close family as none of us are Siamese twins. Some family I only see at funerals, but only if the coffin is open. One time, we were expected to stay overnight under canvas instead of a hotel, that was a tents moment. I found bringing 4K camera equipment to these events reduces arguments as it improves resolution.

Some family will reach out every now and then, especially if they are drowning and another family member doesn’t respect any of my boundaries because they ripped out all my fences.

Politics
I usually vote with my feet, but I have to take my socks off to hold the pen. The party I like most is the housewarming one, where someone shows me where the thermostat is….

….Still reading? Blimey, are you stuck in a hospital bed with no TV?