January 2011
8 posts
It's simple, isn't it?....Isn't it?
In the last few years I have undergone a personal-space revolution. A 6th form common room that was all not-enough-chairs and a few years with my old boss have transformed me into loving hugs, cuddles and all their affiliated family members. I’ll happily hug near-strangers goodbye or greet someone with a kiss on the cheek, when before I would, shamefully, stand staring or shake their hand.
...
Ah Daily Mail, how you once again fail to make... →
Mum, mum, mum, mum, MUM, look at me, goddamnit
I’ve long since thought that bragging about how much you know is something a person grows out of some time between 6 and 14, as having their head flushed repeatedly down the toilet kicks in and they get wise to the fact no-one like’s a smart arse.
I was rudely disappropriated of this perception at my first tutorial for the Open Degree that I’ve been worming my way through. For the first twenty...
“Poop”
– Because, and you know it, it is eternally funny.
I love her music without condition. →
A free laugh with your morning, sir?
A succession of beautiful things happened to me this morning. Small things, the kind of things you miss with your iPod in and your newspaper out. It nearly started so badly with a sprint for a train that consistently arrives late when I’m on time and early when I’m late. I took my usual place on the handrail, slightly wedged against the door and hooked on to the grid. Texts sent and Facebook...
Sexually, I'm more of a Switzerland →
Buy this book. Buy it now.
Moving on up
I think we are destined, as folks just the right side of a coma, to be tired from the age of 11. Beautifully, scientists have proven that we need more sleep just as we are starting to push the boundaries of bedtimes or curfews, and from there an overdraft facility is arranged with the Bank of Sleep. The overdraft creeps up in increments until, really, you need to take out a loan from the Caffeine...