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”

Bloody Fields

 

Back in 2013 I wrote about my old comrade David Rickerby’s crowdsourcing campaign. Unfortunately, raising funds was the easy part and publishing his first novel seems to have been beset on most sides by shitweasels who overstated their worth then ran for the hills after making a pig’s ear of things. For crippling the copy, delaying the release and tormenting an old man, these blundering halfwits deserve an obscene amount of libellous character assassination. Continue reading “Bloody Fields”

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”

SNRI Discontinuation Laugh Riot

...all your brain are belong to us sprach die möwen. "My brain hurt like a warehouse," sang Bowie.
Depression is the single most expensive disorder faced by Western societies and antidepressants are among the best selling drugs; yet modern antidepressants are no more effective than the first generation and electroconvulsive shock treatment remains the most effective treatment for turning that frown upside-down. *

Pinocchio! So this is where I find you! How do you ever expect to be a real boy? Look at yourself. Smoking! Playing pool!

– Jiminy Cricket

Sex during SNRI discontinuation is like the first time – if you lost your virginity concussed, held up against an electric fence in a rainstorm. During the relationships, flings and longer first dates of the last six years I’d gotten used to the numb pounding of dutiful copulation; I knew I should have been enjoying it more, and sometimes a girl would go the extra mile, but more often than not sex was there just to remind me what a worthless bloated addict I’d become. Continue reading “SNRI Discontinuation Laugh Riot”

Scottish Defence League March on Parliament


You wait ages for a racist then 50 turn up all at once; well it looked like 50 to me but the Police estimate 150 so what do I know? There were more people filming them though, that’s for sure – it’s the festival after all – and although the Police also put the counter-protest at 350, by far the greatest number of boots on the ground belonged to the Old Bill. Continue reading “Scottish Defence League March on Parliament”

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