Duncan Bradshaw – “Meow” means “woof” in cat.”

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Part-Time Author/Full-Time Loon.

One day upon waking, as if from some frightful nightmare, I sat at my laptop and typed out letters, which formed words, slowly they created sentences. People read it and said, that’s okay that is, have a biscuit. And I said yes.
Duncan P. Bradshaw spends a vast proportion of his time, staring the wrong way, through one-way glass, pondering the futility of existence
As he gazes longingly at his own reflection, he dictates his internal monologue, or ‘stories’, to a cadre of highly evolved tortoises. As his words are pored over by two people, living in a small sleeping bag at the end of the second runway at Heathrow, Duncan imagines a better world for everyone.
Except for you.
I live in Wiltshire, in Southern England with my wife Debbie and our two cats, Rafa and Pepe, they just meowed a hello at you.
Between bouts of prolonged washing up and bungie cord knitting, I type out the weird and wonderful things that run around my head.

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Go look at his website http://duncanpbradshaw.co.uk/ or over on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/duncanpbradshaw to glimpse at his stupid face.

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(Darren)

What is your name, and age?

(Duncan)

I go by many names, the most common one used, which your human tongue can pronounce, is Duncan, or Dunk. I am 39 years old, or 5 and a bit in cat years. That doesn’t mean I’m a cat, it’s just a term of reference for the cat loving readers out there.
MIAOW. That’s a little bonus for them.

Cats1

(Darren)

How many books have you written or have been part of?

(Duncan)

I’ve written three to date, which have seen the light of day, and been a part of a couple of anthologies. I have two more written, ready for release, and a couple more in the first draft phase.

(Darren)

What is your main genre of story?

(Duncan)

It’s horror…but with slices of comedy in. I have a delusion that I’m quite funny, so try and squeeze some laughs into my writing, from my teat of joy. I find it easier to be sillier than serious if I’m being honest. As that other sentence probably testifies to.

(Darren)

What are you writing at the moment?

(Duncan)

At this moment, aside from this questionnaire, I’m writing a book provisionally called Summoned. It’s about a monster that gets summoned (see what I did there) accidentally. It’s a multi-narrative book, so it’ll have around eight or nine different endings, part of which will be a choose-your-own adventure kind of deal. But…as above, it’s silly, intentionally so. Given the work needed, I’m hoping it’ll be out for Christmas, but it’ll be a push. Plus, I’m not entirely sure people are going to like it very much.

(Darren)

Given a choice between being tasering George Osbourne until his eyes catch fire, or feeding Katie Hopkins into a cardboard baler, which would arouse you most?

(Duncan)

This is like asking which testicle I’d like to kick Cliff Richard in.
I’d have to say, that I would quite happily taser Osbourne till his true demonic form is revealed. When that is achieved, I’d thoroughly enjoy watching him as he burned to death. If I could, I’d use voodoo to reform him, and repeat daily, for free.

Osborneburn

(Darren)

Which famous person’s bike seat would you like to sniff?

(Duncan)

Without a doubt, Anthea Turner.
I’ve become convinced over the years, that her foo-foo, is made from the finest buttercream and chocolate combination. So would like to finally find out, without the rigmarole of another court case.
Why else would she pimp a chocolate bar on her wedding day, huh? She’s got to be part of a worldwide consortium, which deals in the eradication of single ply toilet rolls.
I for one, back this initiative.

Anthea_Turner_looking_like_Madonna_03

(Darren)

Whether you are an atheist or religious, God appears to you while you are sat on the toilet. He tells you he will answer one question as he has other toilets to visit. What would that question be?

(Duncan)

A nice and simple one, ‘Oi god dude, explain dinosaurs’. Then watch as his brain explodes. Or my ass. Depends on how much I’ve had to drink the night before.

IwuUeaa

(Darren)

While perusing your favourite website, ‘www.Michael-J-Fox-Cocktails.com’, you inadvertently cause everyone called Duncan to transform into murdering psychopaths. What is your next course of action?

(Duncan)

I’d go onto Facebook and set up an event called ‘Hug-A-Duncan’ day, inviting everyone high and low. At the same time, I’d send a group message to all my fellow Duncan’s, telling them where and when I’ll be luring the poor unsuspecting fools to, so we can slice them up with a meat cleaver and our razor sharp wit.

hugaduncanday

(Darren)

Which fellow author do you believe will end up in a mental institution?

(Duncan)

Nice, well, not wishing to give the game away entirely, there is one author, who I have been psychologically messing with for some time now. Moving cutlery around, so that spoons are where the knives should be, making sure their favourite jumper is splattered with semen, and their work colleagues all know about his masturbation technique, when he sings Barbie Girl and wears his flatmates clothes.
As I mentioned, I don’t want to reveal who it is…suffice to say that it is an anagram of Jusnit Prak.

(Darren)

Sorry Duncan, but im afraid your desire to protect the identity of your friend is outweighed by my need to protect the public from what is clearly a very dangerous man. Using every resource available to me, I was able to break your cleverly encrypted phrase.

justiprak2

(Darren)

What topic in your books would you never consider writing about?

(Duncan)

Honestly? I have to say that there is something that goes against my core, the tiny fragment of light and wire, which burns at the heart of my existence.
Coastal erosion!
I just cannot comprehend, in this day and age, where we have things on our phone which can order fast food for us, that we have yet to invent something which stops those poor buildings falling off clifftops and into the sea. Breaks my heart.

erosion

(Darren)

During a celebrity charity game of dominoes, raising money for endangered scampi, you see the opportunity to ram a double six tile into the eye of a famous celebrity. Who would that be?

(Duncan)

Stevie Wonder…just to see if it’s for real, you know? He seems to know his way around a telephone, and a piano, just something doesn’t add up about it all.

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(Darren)

What song will be played at your funeral?

(Duncan)

Fire Water Burn, by The Bloodhound Gang, just for the refrain, ‘we don’t need no water, let the motherfucker burn. Burn, motherfucker, burn.’ I would expect everyone to join in, and if possible, bring their own petrol, speed the cremation up a bit.

(Darren)

Which celebrity would you keep in your basement, and what entertainment would you provide?

(Duncan)

Noel Edmonds, and I’d entertain the shit out of him with a wide variety of bland quiz shows, phone calls from my dealer, with the latest cocktail of drugs to get him off his tits. Then, I’d knit him some messed up jumpers and make him parade around in them.

bloodwall

deadnoel

 

(Darren)

What is your favourite swearword or phrase?

(Duncan)

I like to treat my swear words like a pick ‘n’ mix, so fuckflaps is a good one. Or cuntmangler. I would love to have a catchphrase, which I’d say whenever I say a pithy comeback, I dunno, something like, ‘…and that’s why you got dropped on your head as a baby’. Something like that.

(Darren)

You’ve just purchased 12 pigs for the traditional purpose of disposing of bodies. Your uncle Brian Bricktop, constantly reminds you that “they’ll go through bone like butter.” How do you prepare the body first?

(Duncan)

I stick to the ole tried and trusted when it comes to cadaver preparation. Whilst naked, I would teabag them until the teeth become loose and malleable. Affixing them to my special brush handle, I gently pummel the body, so it looks like the person has been trying to nibble their own flesh. Just in case the pigs don’t like the taste of ‘em. Then, and only then, would I daub their eyelids with a stylised D, and record the whole feast on my Super 8.

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(Darren)

What would your serial killer name be, and what would be your modus operandi?

(Duncan)

The Tickler…mainly for the double entendre, and inevitable sniggering.
‘Who did this?’
‘It was…THE TICKLER.’
*sniggering* ‘Of course it was…’
Needless to say, my modus operandi would be to tickle my victim to death, using a variety of techniques and tools. Some by feather, others by my little pinkie (see, I can’t stop with the double entendres), maybe even throw in a turkey’s giblet. It’s the perfect crime…

(Darren)

Which conspiracy theory do you think has some validity?

(Duncan)

That we’re all in the Matrix. I don’t know if you know this at all, but I’m gonna blow this shit wide open for all of y’all. Okay. Brace yourself. Close your eyes. Right now. Oh…you can’t read this, or if you can, then you’re not doing it right. Okay, read this bit, then close your eyes again, okay? So, with your eyes closed, I want you to think of Keanu Reeves in the Matrix. Okay? Got it? Cool. So, now with the image in your head, you’re now in the Matrix. Mind. Blown.
You’re all welcome btw.

morpheus

(Darren)

If you could be a member of any band, past or present who would you be?

(Duncan)

I’m going to break with tradition of my other answers, and be serious for a moment. Have to be Billy Corgan in the Smashing Pumpkins. A, the dude is a genius. B, he’s freakishly tall, I’d be able to look over the bushy walls of mazes and find my way out quicker.

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(Darren)

You are playing a particularly tense game of Buckaroo with a friend, when suddenly the mule kicks out sending the frying pan into your opponent’s throat severing the carotid artery. After a few minutes your friend is dead, and you’ve won. What do you do with the body?

(Duncan)

Who cares? I finally beat the wanker at Buckaroo. For years, I knew they’d been cheating, I’m kinda glad I messed around with the spring now. Serves them right. I suppose it would be a bit of a downer, seeing them there like that. I guess I’d use them as a coffee table.
And that’s why they got dropped on their head as a baby.
See? Genius.

buckeroo2

(Darren)

Blue Pill or Red Pill?

(Duncan)

Pill? I thought they were suppositories…well I ain’t getting them out, be my guest if you wanna delve into the hairy hinterland of death.
I’m waiting…don’t bother with the gloves, I like the feeling of fingernails scraping my colon.

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(Darren)

What’s the meaning of life?

(Duncan)

I’m five and a bit in cat years, I know as much about the meaning of life as I do about periods. My only advice is, don’t be a dick to people. Do that, and you’ll be alright I reckon.

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(Darren)

Which topic is more important to you? Child poverty, Esther Rantzen’s toothpaste costs, Spit The Dog’s stretched anus, or The Panamanian Petting Zoo?

(Duncan)

Gotta be the Petting Zoo, but only to aid my demographic that says I’m fixated solely on cats. It’s bullshit, I love all of the furry faced bastards, especially if you can go up to them and pat the little fellows on their bonce. Awww. Their ickle faces. Etc.

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(Darren)

As the new advisor to Wiley Coyote, you need to come up with a plan to stop the roadrunner. Have you got any?

(Duncan)

Yes. Through a mind numbing week of PowerPoint presentations and team building exercises, which admittedly, considering it’s just me and him, might be a bit crap, he would be built anew. Much like my training course for Villains, ‘Don’t be a dick, just shoot the spy in the face with a gun’, by the time I’m done with Wiley Coyote, he’d be the new owner of a whole suite of roadrunner catching techniques. These include, but are not limited to; TNT 101: Why I Learned to Love the Bomb, Caltrops Are Your Friend, Flamethrowers and Their Effect On Feathers, and my personal favourite, Strategically Placed Cheese-wire Maims and Slices.

wile-e-coyote

(Darren)

Given a choice of the authors you have only in your Facebook friends list, who would you like to write a story with?

(Duncan)

That’s like giving me a loaded gun and saying, ‘there you go buddy, blaze away!’ Aside from my author chums who I’ve met and would gladly give a spare kidney to, I’m friends with Danny King, who is one of the reasons why I write. He’s a bloody genius, and annoyingly funny to boot. Writing something with him would be unbelievable. In reality…I’m not sure I could co-write a book with someone, they’d have to be a bit messed up to even consider it.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B001K8AO0C/ref=dp_byline_sr_ebooks_1?ie=UTF8&text=Danny+King&search-alias=digital-text&field-author=Danny+King&sort=relevancerank

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(Darren)

What is the crappiest movie you have ever seen?

(Duncan)

I want to take another moment and be sensible now, Airforce One. Biggest load of tub-thumping, patriotic bullshit I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen more convincing Russian accents come out of my vulva.

ubmgs

(Darren)

Which of the ungrateful shits would you have been in the original Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, and what lengths would you go to get that factory?

(Duncan)

Veruca Salt, mainly cos then, I would go up to the band who spawned, using my name, and get free tickets to all of their gigs ever. Not that I’m a huge fan or anything, but being a giant purple ball, before being drained, it would be a good distraction for the crowd at poorly attended gigs.

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(Darren)

What goes in your coffin with you?

(Duncan)

Any of my family who are still living, I don’t want to be alone.

(Darren)

What song annoys you to the point of wanting to impale a hedgehog on a garden fork?

(Duncan)

Too many to list…I’m not a big pop fan, so although most of them pass me by, there are a few that really get on my ballbags. Though I am a firm believer in never disclosing pet peeves, as if it were me, I’d then post that video on their feed once every few days until I started to receive death threats. Then, even when I was murdered by that person, I would already have set up daily automatic postings to all of their social media, email addresses and phone numbers (present and future), just to be on the safe side.
Yes, I am annoying.
Thanks.

(Darren)

Due to your lack of commitment to this question, you have forced my hand. I will choose a song for you. And it will be…………

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Thank you Duncan for taking the time to indulge in my stupidity by adding lashings of your own strangeness.
As a token of my appreciation I have included a photo of a man with his head in a crate of eggs.

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