1. Journalism Attracts the Worst

Monday January 9, 2023

Well, I hope you all had a lovely Christmas. I was down with stomach flu but needed to write a presentation on ethics in journalism; so, delirious with discomfort and permanently online, seasonally depressed and unable to keep a drink down for the purposes of self-medication, I’ve been reflecting on that old ethical dilemma of whether journalists actually have any.

Ethics, that is. Continue reading “1. Journalism Attracts the Worst”

More Goddamn Books

amy sketch
The green is printing ‘bleed.’ I cut the title down from eleven words to three letters. Is that better? I don’t even know anymore. In fact I might not even care. I mean I probably do but I just feel homicidally bored, know what I mean?

Hey, remember me? Yeah, I’m that fat facetious piece of shit who once wrote popular articles, both of them around the starts of ’12 and ’13 (and by ‘popular’ I mean more than thirty Facebook likes; and by ‘articles’ I mean social media toss but who are you to judge—if you can bare to look at yourself in the mirror for long enough to brush your teeth without poking out one or both eyes with your Oral-B then you’re clearly delusional anyway and we have much in common so let’s continue, you daft twat.

Christ, I forgot, there was that one about the Pope as well. Some liked it, some prefer living out their life as an indentured servant to a make-believe tyrant and counter ferociously any attempt to make them, you know, read what even the Tory rags of this rag-tag island of toe-rag proles can hardly deny. Need a final clue? Really? It’s child rape, my dear, and I’m never playing charades with you at Christmas. Continue reading “More Goddamn Books”

Words From a Writer Too Stubborn to Fail

…would make for a great epitaph, no?

Anyway, and stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but a few years ago, when I’d moved back to the UK, I started sending out copies of my second book to literary agents (it was smaller, so cheaper to post) with nothing to signify who it was from or why but for “Please HELP me!” scrawled with a black Sharpie on the stark white of the cover.

My website was printed small by the barcode on the back at right angles to the jacket text and such was my naive, unfucked brain still fresh back in the fire that I felt anyone reading this GENIUS would want to seek him out and anyone WORTHY of representing him would be both able and willing, nay delighted to work their way through these cunning yet intriguing layers of mystery. Continue reading “Words From a Writer Too Stubborn to Fail”

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