The next Post Of The Week will be announced on Sunday evening.
Please note that nominations for next week cannot be accepted until then. Just sit tight.

And without further ado, the shortlist!

1. Tears at Bedtime: Boob Pencil
“He pinches his nose and pulls the quilt back over his head. As I sing the obligatory bedtime songs he goes through an elaborate routine, getting as far away as possible and finding a succession of ever-more-ridiculous means by which he can cover his nose.”

2. More on Therapy Culture…: Confessions of a Psychotherapist
“The therapist stated the fucking obvious came up with the startling conclusion that Ulrika uses sex to feel better about herself. That she seeks a sense of completion through the sexual union with another. That her repeated ‘falling in love’ temporarily transforms her emotional world. No shit, Sherlock? Give her a cigar and call her Dr Freud.”

3. greavsie and some very sad news: greavsie!
“The speed of the early romance between myself and the guitar indicated that we were destined for great things: I would eagerly rush home from work and she would be waiting for me in her special place - the stand in the corner of the front room. The routine was always the same, I would admire her from a distance before eventually approaching and gently caressing her curves. I would then take her onto my knee and we would make some wonderfully rich, impromptu chords.”

4. Write the Theme Tune, Sing the Theme Tune…: It’s a Life
“It’s one of those things I thought everyone did, but Ashley assures me it isn’t. I have words for the theme tunes of just about every TV programme I watch - well, those that don’t already have their own lyrics. They just piss me off. And adverts? Yes sir, I do ads too. I get ad envy when there’s a really cheesy song in an ad. Everytime a really bad one comes on Phil enquires, “one of yours?”. Well, it passes the time.”

5. Dilli mein raat bhar baarish, phir se: Known Turf
“Adhchini, Gurgaon… the words patter with a sweetness, a slippery clayey texture that hadn’t been there before. And to your ears, ‘gurhganva’ is firm, a vagabond word with tight calf muscles and a checked vest. Gurh-gaanv-aa. Gurhganva. The word is like the sweet, heady smell of the first light shower on a hot afternoon in a dusty town.”

6. Day 252: I Receive a Mysterious Note: Non-Workingmonkey
“The story isn’t interesting, so I won’t tell it*. I had to go for a walk. I whistled a bit (for, as everyone knows, it is impossible to cry if you are whistling), and remembered that I was “a freelancer” and shouldn’t really care, and then realised I did care and looked at a canal a bit and wondered if my new suitcase would fit in the handluggage bit of KLM.”

7. Come Again Uncle Sue?: Ron Lyre’s Forked Tongue
“This sad state of affairs concerns my Uncle Sue, (don’t ask – changed his name by deed poll - suffice to say he was a fierce Johnny Cash fan) and his release from prison after a four year sentence for attempted robbery of a local Post Office. Attempted is an important word here, because it was actually his third attempt.”

8. Where the women are strong, the men are good looking, and all the gays are hypersensitive: sfbootdog
“Finally, I’ve just about had it with people who act all pissed-off about the “gay men are neat, fashionable, and [let’s face it] effeminate” stereotype, yet continually applaud “Queer Eye For the Straight Guy” as being empowering. Bullshit! It’s not empowering to reinforce the notion that gay men are fashion designers and chefs. It perpetuates the stereotype, as does representing straight men as being a bunch of slobs who are totally unfamiliar with the concept of personal grooming.”