Story 3 is in! Written by a group, again without direction! (See bottom of this message)

The blue gardens of home

Outside my window, next to the shed, is a small pretty garden. It really is beautiful, but strange things happen there. Once, on a cold cold morning, I saw three dancing postmen - naked except for loincloths and caps. Stranger than that though was the enticingly exotic aroma eminating from a particularly cheerful garden gnome that was propped up on a mound of earth. The postmen were dancing round him and seemed to be laughing happily at something across the patio; eighteen very tired gnome collectors were watching the postmen with disbelief.

The collectors, all members of the IGCA (International Gnome Collectors Association) had just finished an international seminar lead by Dubya himself! Warm up speaker was Robbie Williams - who, as every self-respecting person knows, is the god of gnome collectors. Robbie however had not collected a gnome of interest in decades, but was up to his neck in little sparkly blue sequins.

He wore a three-cornered hat and blue suede shoes and proclaimed himself to be the king of deceivers. However, somebody threw a gnome out of the audience when realising that he wasn't actually singing live at the concert and knocked him out. On arriving at hospital, he suddenly realized he couldn't keep his secret any longer and had to tell someone, otherwise he would have tattooed a gnome on his back. After sharing his secret with Gerri Halliwell he entered a gnome rehabilitation clinic in L.A. so as not to let the world know of his strange addiction. After three days of rehab he succumbed to pleasures of life, being totally lost and disorientated he called Lennie to get his CD collection back. Lennie said something quite strange, "I'm loving angels instead."

The gnome community were furious at the outburst and decided to sanction margarine consumption. He didn't last long, no pop-star had lasted more than three good years. Then, he decided to make a radical change in his life and migrated to Australia, where he could have a hidden identity, which proved to be quite useful at certain times, as he was impossible to find when surfing on the net. However, he still kept his job at the university, teaching contemporary art history. Though he had to phone his lectures in, he maintained a decent relationship with his students, one of which turned out to be the greatest human cannonball the world had ever seen. His trick was to use the above sanctioned margerine as a lubricant and of course wear a nurse's outfit while being cannonballed. His main claim to fame though was his ability to hold his breath under 3,000 litres of vegetable oil, a rare feat only ever attempted by a fish called Wanda. Wanda didn't survive her brave attempt due to somebody throwing 2,500 frozen chips in while her attempt was underway.

The most surprising thing that ever happened in the garden occured in summer when he let everyone know that he adored drinking cappuccino with cream and a chocolate flake shredded on the top of the glass. And he liked to drink this sitting in the corner of the garden,in the sun out of the wind. With the little kitten from the garden down the road, curled up at his feet: -- Too bad it was dead - but then again, he never could stand kittens.

Suddenly, out of the blue she appeared. From the very first second he felt terribly attracted to her but frightened at the same time as he had the feeling she could read his mind, which seemed to be oddly fixated on margarine and kittens. Still she overlooked this as she herself had a rather peculiar feeling that something out of the ordinary was about to happen; Clearly she saw the light.

Unbelievably, as a male of the species he could think of simple things such as margarine, kittens, just the usual ordinary things. She wasn't used to that. She had seldom seen such a remarkable creature. Extraordinarily, not one single thought about sex crossed his mind. Only then did she realise he was an angel. Until two weeks ago when he conveniently decided to break tradition and accepted the fact that they were fated to send naked postmen dancing in a garden outside my house.

The End.

Taken from this thread: Story 3 (The blue gardens of home)
we need medication !!! lolol !
and a lot of it!
Students: Are you brave enough to let our tutors analyse your pronunciation?
We need less medication!
well, errr, let's not touch that one shall we ?