Tag: Alcohol

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” →

6

Magnetic Gandhi

I read an interesting article the other day in which Stewart Lee raises a terrifying argument about Scottish Independence; a point summed up succinctly in the sub heading: The loss of 5.5 million Scots would mean 5.5 million fewer voices to say no to Cameron’s cronies. As you may know, there are more pandas in Scotland than Tory MPs.

Now I was living in Glasgow last year and I voted for Alex Salmond’s SNP, thinking it a good thing as I’d recently walked up the Wallace Monument and had rekindled a healthy sense of colonial guilt; instead, it turns out I was shooting myself and every other red-blooded English liberal in the foot. Continue reading “Magnetic Gandhi” →

3

A Gløgg is Not Just for Christmas

Wherever you are right now, dear reader, my money’s on it being cold outside. Granted you could be somewhere temperate – the southern hemisphere for instance  – in which case why not bookmark this for winter, because the last thing you want right now is a hot mug of spice infused heaven washing down your bare, tanned, fortunate throat. But for those of us who have to wrap up warm to walk the streets and – in a job without windows – wouldn’t see the sun until March, I have a tasty little treat for you that, like all treats, is ripe for abuse.

I only discovered Gløgg – hot spiced wine – a few years ago in Scandinavia, and much like when I first stumbled across masturbation, I decided it surely had to be my own invention rather than an encounter with something people have been enjoying for a long, long time; otherwise however did people manage to leave the house in winter? Continue reading “A Gløgg is Not Just for Christmas” →

1

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” →

2

Our Rock is an Alcoholic and We Are Happy-Hour. Part Three

G.A.Harker. Don Quixote: Windmill
‘Tis better to gasp one’s last breath twixt the unspoiled hill and valley than suffer the ignominy of the turbines!

Question Time. BBC One, 10.35 Thu, 17 Nov 2011

Against a more newsworthy day’s backdrop of the biggest strikes in 30 years and my own Senior Lecturer – a former journalist at the News of the World – being arrested in connection with the Leveson phonehacking enquiry (later bailed until March), I have a deadline. I should’ve written this a week ago but I’m shit and lazy and I think I might be losing it, again. Continue reading “Our Rock is an Alcoholic and We Are Happy-Hour. Part Three” →

3

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” →

4

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” →

4

Giving Blood for the First Time

An experiment was carried out to illustrate the effects of blood loss on the efficacy of prescription opioids and Tennessee sour mash whiskey.

Bloody, innit.
The first time I’ve put blood in a bag instead of on the street.

I’ve been terrified of needles since as far back as I can remember – one of my earliest memories is being wheeled screaming down a dimly lit corridor into theatre to have my adenoids pulled out by what I understood at the time to be a drunken bear with a pair of knitting needles and a claw hammer. Although I seem now to be slightly less of a sissy than I was then – helped along by knee surgery and medical trials – I still feel incredibly nervous at the prospect of metal piercing my skin.

But, well, sometimes you’ve just got to quit whining and do something nice for a change. Continue reading “Giving Blood for the First Time” →

6

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” →

3

Notes From a Bar-Crawl

The following notes from the pub are a waste of my time and yours. Consider yourself warned.

If you think it’s a rhetorical question it isn’t, and vice versa; if you find it offensive, it’s meant as a joke; if it makes you go all tingly down below in your sexy parts then I have pornographic movies in my apartment, and lubricants, and amyl nitrite.

A Drunken Afternoon in Middlesbrough
A Drunken Afternoon in Middlesbrough

Continue reading “Notes From a Bar-Crawl” →

5

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑