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(Fe)line after line is all I remember
Dexter was an old cat, already eligible for his senior catcard when my housemate took him in. This was reflected in his nickname: Old Man Trousers. I’ll remember OMT most in the front garden of the flat, either on or near the stepladder he used to gain entry to the living room. It would always… Read more
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London Road, Brighton
I write from Hope. Specifically, the Bloom Cafe and Hope Centre. It’s a cafe space that doubles as a women’s refuge. When one buys a coffee one can also pay money down for another, so if anyone without the funds wants to pop in, they can do so without feeling judged or unwelcome. It’s one… Read more
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Fancy letting me sit on your pet?
I am not sure how many people out there in reading-my-blog land [1] are aware, I do the odd bit of pet-sitting. I am proud of my 100% record of handing over non-dead animals back to their owners. Sad will be the day when I have to invest in an “It has been X days… Read more
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Some things I saw in Bristol
The promise of hills from drizzly Victoria Park, while walking the dog. A hot air balloon factory, guarded by a Batman / Stimpy amalgamation. An Intercity 125 on its way to Cardiff. And a Brutalist car park, though not the one threatened with demolition. Read more
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To Bristol by coach
“While you’re capturing the zeitgeist they’re widening the motorway.” – Half Man Half Biscuit [1] To Victoria, then, for the “Megabus” to Bristol. I don’t like coaches. The motion of them makes me sick, so I can’t read. And motorways are the worst way to see a country: endless, multi-laned scars paying no dues to… Read more
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Do You Remember The First Time?
“I knew Jarvis a bit because me and a friend of mine, Ian (we were in a band together) used to get stoned every Friday night and we’d try to find Jarvis. We were only about twenty and he used to tell us stories – him and Russell used to have this vast collection of… Read more
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Sailing in an impossible straight line
I write as midnight approaches, my attention is on the other side of the world. I learned today one can – theoretically – sail in a straight line from England to New Zealand without hitting land. I’d arrive long after the Test is over, with questions about why Wellington’s beautiful cricket ground is in the… Read more
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Trashfuture (live podcast recording in London)
This review first appeared in the Morning Star newspaper I am in the only room left in Britain where the mention of Matt Hancock gets a cheer. I’m not at a masochistic Tory fringe event, or at the disastrous former minister’s birthday party. Instead, I’m at a sold out live recording of a left wing… Read more
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