I was going to write something about the festival but in the end I didn’t want to so instead I filmed people while drinking to feel less bad about not wanting to. We had a nice time.
Failed Toothache Remedies and This Brave Soldier’s First Filling
I guess after thirty-three years without a filling and around twenty without anything being pulled out of my jaw I’d grown complacent in the face of tooth decay – arrogant even. Then early last week I took my last bite as a complete human – the tooth fairy had found me, and we had some catching up to do. The pain started slight and became an agony that spread around my face like a burning hedgehog that existed partially in another dimension but flickered in and out of it as it rolled through me, pausing only to kick my tooth in the balls when it got tired of this pan-dimensional torment. Continue reading “Failed Toothache Remedies and This Brave Soldier’s First Filling”
1 Boy 16 Cups or: Getting to Grips With Scotland’s Sperm Shortage
Sat there on the hospital bed, trousers round my ankles and tally whacker in my hand, I turned the glossy pages of one of the hundred or so pornos that had been left in the bedside cabinet for this very purpose. I kept glancing at the clock on the wall, nervous that I shouldn’t be too quick, nor should I take forever, but the thing was stuck at 11.57 and remained so during the course of my visits. My own hands were equally as ineffective as those of that clock; try as I might, Reader’s Wife after Asian Babe after Girl Next Door, I beat my semi like a naughty puppy that had chewed its master’s furniture for the last time; and yet the cup remained mockingly empty. Continue reading “1 Boy 16 Cups or: Getting to Grips With Scotland’s Sperm Shortage”
Previously On Battlestar Galactica
Good evening friends, it’s been an age; how’ve you been? Your hair looks nice and you smell delightful. Sorry to hear about that thing that made you sad but congratulations on the thing that made you happy – I hope the things happened in that order. No, I didn’t kill myself, and thanks for asking; although of course those of you that know me are often subjected to regular mind-deterioration updates via facebook and those that don’t may imagine me to be sipping whisky in the lowlands, writing the Great American Novel the way it was always meant to be – by an Englishman in Scotland – so I shouldn’t judge. Continue reading “Previously On Battlestar Galactica”
CHRIS PARLETT 