Home of The Naughty Stories Series
Born in Poole, Dorset, in 1965, Sedley Proctor grew up in London and was educated in Winchester and Nottingham. In the 1990s, he worked in fringe theatre and was involved in productions of Macbeth and Bertolt Brecht’s In the Jungle of Cities. His own play, Salt Lake Psycho about the notorious murderer, Gary Gilmore was put on at the now defunct Man in the Moon theatre in London, Chelsea. From the mid-nineties until 2013 he lived and worked as a teacher and translator in Southern Italy. In Italy he continued to experiment with his writing, devising an invented dialect, writing a blog satirizing the international politics of the early 2000s, collaborating on a screenplay with French writer, Claude Albanese, and performing his poetry in front of bemused locals and amused ex-pats. Apart from his own books, he writes under the aliases F. M. Frites and M. T. Sands.
As a rule, I rather enjoy watching the cricket. I have always thought it a nice way to spend a summer afternoon. You can chat with friends, spice up a cucumber sandwich with a drink, and if you so choose, get merry. The ground was situated behind the Forelock Arms where the two marquee tents …
Or why Aussies really do Crimble Crumble Now Shane is the opener, he hates to get out,No matter how much those Pommies may shout,“I’m such a great batsman, I’ll stand at my crease,I’ll hit you all over, when the ball is released.” But in Cricket’s own Eden, the Fruit of the Plum,Is what England were …
Earl, who was also known as the Banker for reasons that will become apparent, had heard about the Clout from a scout called Dicky Bird. The Clout was on the county’s books, but Dicky Bird knew personally that the Clout was not happy with his contract. “Mark my words,” said Dicky. “He’s a cocky sod.” …
Revenge, they say, is a dish best served chilled. If that is the case, our Antipodean Cousins have a peculiar way of serving it up, especially where cricket and a picnic is concerned. Mark Hughes, known to friends and colleagues alike as Markie, had not played cricket since the under fifteens when he decided to …
If revenge is a dish best served chilled, then surely self-righteousness is a dish best not served at all. Most went deep into Mrs. Digby’s vegetable patch. Some became stuck on the roof of the Forelock Arms. And some again ended up in the greenhouse of a nearby cottage. “And I’m not giving it you …
It was two o’clock in the morning; everything was going swimmingly when Henry turned around and saw Ed Valour swaying on the barstool beside him. “Could kill one of those gin slims you’re drinking only I appear to be short of a bob or two.” Henry giggled and felt in his pocket: “Ed, never you …
(A naughty homage to E. W. Hornung[1]) Raffles was playing a game at Lord’s for the Gentlemen of Essex when he was approached, at the lunch table, by a young cricketer by the name of Crowley. Like everyone else, Crowley was dressed in creamy whites, but Raffles noted at his neck a cravat with a …
Anika Puri was fuming. The boys didn’t want to let her play. Although she was Lakshay’s sister, he didn’t have the courage to argue on her behalf, so she had to sit and watch. Rohit was quite a good bowler she thought, and Tushar could bat all day, but they really weren’t that good as …
For cricket fans how sad the news The felling of poor Phillip Hughes Full blooded swipe at short pitched ball Endless courage says it all. Neither bowler nor headgear’s fault But ill luck’s strike like lightning bolt If only you’d the chance once more? Another heave! The crowd would roar! Talent you had for sure …
“Sex is emotion in motion.” Mae West “Emotion is sexual motion.” Mabel Maude thinks I should understand carte blanche, since I always act as if I have it. Contrary to what dearest M thinks, however, the meaning of this expression is not what it seems. Though it is true, the characters in these stories would …