Category Archives: Writing

Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig

Some say that Sunday is a day of rest. Those whose other days are not built to be restful, I guess. Broken stupids like myself have to rest much and most days so Sunday becomes just a ball of lumpy … Continue reading

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Being Boring

It is Friday afternoon and I’ve managed to leave my apartment for the first time in three days. I still feel rather broken but have enjoyed a coffee and a catch up with Si so am virtually a human person. … Continue reading

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Then/Now

I’m finding it really hard having to cope with my stupid body being really beaten up by a couple of days in London. For a few weeks now I have been able to spend time with a lot of friends … Continue reading

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Coda

Man from a small town pounding on the paving till it sounds like home again. Look up, the buildings stretch relentless: rainbows, dollar signs and sunscreen make a human popsicle. We used to talk to gods whose calls we now … Continue reading

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Bed Piece

Something I was unaware of until yesterday is that the atrium of capitalism which sits at the front of Paddington Station and which I have always previously avoided offers coffee drinking facilities and quite a lot of armchairs in which … Continue reading

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FoodPeopleBuildings

Another London morning, another cafe, another coffee, another pastry. But all with added rain. Scuppers a vague idea of seeing if I could persuade my body to have a bit of a look at Hyde Park today. Instead, having checked … Continue reading

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I Was Just In The Middle of A Dream

Garfield. The Boomtown Rats. The Bangles. T-Bone Walker. New Order.  If you require documented proof that Mondays need to be made illegal then look no further than my far-from-exhaustive list of musical luminaries – and a cartoon cat – for … Continue reading

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