My return to university and another death in the family

Cities of Gold and Mirrors: Got a little high and went along to MIMA before I left town. Not as big as it looks but definitely worth a look if you like your art modern and your staff friendly.

A girl I developed a debilitating and unrequited crush on once called me a drifter down her perfect nose. We’d met at a staff party; I’d been drinking warm beer in a friend’s apartment, watching England lose to Germany with the sound off, A-ha on repeat and bag of something expensive went up my nose before I could leave the house.

I’d just broken up with my girlfriend and everything was a mess, then this divinely sculpted creature asked me to dance. I took offence at the drifter tag, but then again I was younger and stupider back then – now it seems to fit.

This week marks the 11th time in seven years that I’ve bundled my life into a van and driven off at speed. I moved to Middlesbrough from Glasgow six months ago on an awkward and ill-planned mission to grab a bachelor degree by the balls before the price went up; I seemed to be doing quite well but somehow it didn’t seem to fit. Continue reading “My return to university and another death in the family”

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The monsters we turn into or marry

More Human than Human - Forever hungry, ill-disciplined and overly protective of those he loves; Mum's dog, Alfie, brimming both with stupid exuberance and the pathos of not nearly enough treats or tummy rubs, is the latest hairy testament to her parenting methods. God, I miss him.

It’s been a while – how’ve you been? I’ve missed you. David? Sorry I forgot your birthday. Love, etc.

Those of you who read my hilarious, insightful and downright sexy posts on twitter and facebook will have got the gist of what’s been going on dayn sayf so forgive any repetition.

My Nan passed away peacefully – well, as peacefully as you can, struggling with pain and confusion, surrounded by powerless ‘strangers’, your conciousness rattling around a stubborn husk – and her ashes are now interred in the grave of my Grandfather.

Father Paul’s eulogy was uplifting and pure of heart – a real comfort for us and an experience with the church without parallel for me (I went to a Roman Catholic school in my teens.) If you’ll forgive me for opening the homophobia door, his awesomeness is proof positive that gays should not only be allowed in the church, but that they should be running the fucking show. Continue reading “The monsters we turn into or marry”

A Full Life

And after a while – with my mother tearing out the hair I’m surprised didn’t fall of its own accord years ago, and my auntie and I playing good cop / bad cop to the duty Doctor’s idea of palliative care – my Nan is finally on morphine.

If it wasn’t for the wonderfully compassionate carers at the home, I’m pretty sure we’d be utterly lost.

There’s little point in ranting on here (he said, before ranting on.) We treat dying animals better than we do dying people. I haven’t yet met a person of faith to convince me that any of their holy books are worth the paper I wipe my arse with, but it seems that as wonderful as science is, technology is torture without morality.

I’m not talking about the morals some guy brings down a mountain, or whatever, but of the ideas and ideals we must take a firm hold of and shake when medicine prolongs the body, but not the mind. Continue reading “A Full Life”

Lingerie, Whiskey and Burning Flags

Two Chinese Pandas are being loaned to Edinburgh Zoo. The thinking is that they’ll be so cold they’ll have to fuck continuously to keep from freezing to death.

Hey, am I wearing lipstick? When I’m getting fucked I want to make sure my face looks pretty.

– George Jung, Blow

I put the news in my brain today. It didn’t help my depression. Not one bit.

I hear the cuts with which we are being punished for the avarice and incompetence of our betters is going to plunge this country into a Dickensian level of class divide and destitution; the eurozone is breaking apart, another mistake that will have us all over the sodomy table before the decade is up.

Stories of increasing numbers of honour killings and the grooming of children are a proud racist’s wet dream – proof positive in their bloodshot eyes that if they were right about Europe then how about all these dirty immigrants taking British jobs. All the while the justice system is too PC to tackle problems by race, leaving the idiots among us to judge entire swaths of their communities by the diabolical actions of a few. Continue reading “Lingerie, Whiskey and Burning Flags”

Video Killed the Radio Star

Pterosaur's-eye view of Click Teesside

I’ve decided to put my stratospheric rise to the peak of radio broadcasting on hold for the time being. Perhaps I’ll go back to it once the NCTJ exams are out of the way or perhaps it’s not the right medium for me.

There was the feeling that I was just one slip of the tongue away from getting sued or stomped; I mean, I can’t go to a party without telling some nice chap from Singapore that my Grandfather cut off heads there for Her Majesty, back in the day. It’s like I have no internal filter – my inner monologue just spits out whatever, be it harsh truth, niche humour or phonetically remembered foreign chat-up line. Continue reading “Video Killed the Radio Star”

God is in the Radio

The Lord our God
“Give me three Hail Marys and the rest of those chips.”

My Mother once said to me, “You can go to Australia on your own but you can’t go down the corner shop.”

I find that succinct in a way no GP, shrink or bar-room confidant as yet has managed.

I can’t seem to get out of this slump but the show goes on around me so rather than hide in Hyrule or Modern Warfare or – God forbid – an actual book, I gave it my best today. This morning began at 7am and saw me presenting my second solo radio show for ClickTeesside – ‘Your Campus Radio.’ Continue reading “God is in the Radio”

Lizards and Earthquakes

‘Flash photography from the start,’ warns the news anchor. Cut to Wills and Kate in a garish photo opportunity: a UNICEF centre in Copenhagen.

There was once a time I’d get home from the pub with a lady in tow or perhaps a large kebab. These days, it’s oatcakes and the news.

Our hopelessly cheesy royals are filmed together with their Danish counterparts: Frederik and Mary; Crown Prince and Aussie Chick. I turn off. Continue reading “Lizards and Earthquakes”

A Brain Full of Slime

There was no me on the radio today. For anyone tearing their hair out in desperate grief here is a picture of me feeding dinosaurs at the weekend:

Unfortunately I’ve been sick these last few days with what at first I took to be a deadly new contagion that would torment my organs into a viscous paste before sending my pitiful soul straight to the upside-down hell of the agnostic; fortunately, after rest and gentle consideration it turns out I have contracted the more common but no less debilitating man-flu virus. Continue reading “A Brain Full of Slime”

Radio Friendly Unit Shifter

Tuesday just gone was my second assault on the airwaves. It went well.

Things are getting more and more hands-on and my nervous jabbering is beginning to be mistaken for a growing competence that would lend itself to its own show. The persons in charge want to push out new programming and they also want to start having pre-recorded weekend shows rather than just an automatic playlist (there’s no security then so unfortunately we can’t do live broadcasts.) Continue reading “Radio Friendly Unit Shifter”

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