Tag: Animals

Without Form and Void | Chapter 2 ‘Blue Green Rock’ | Audiobook

So I thought I’d have a go at this audiobook lark since authors are apparently supposed to play an active role in the promotion of their own work.

I’m considering recording the whole novel but as the rest of the story follows a more traditional narrative written from a woman’s perspective it might sound a bit odd drawled through a shit beard. This chapter here is more a fever dream anyway but what the hell, it’ll give people an idea of what to expect.

I’ve got a good feeling though. I mean it’s this kind of hands-on, can-do attitude that may actually sell a few more goddamn books. If, however, it doesn’t I may actually just rent a caravan on the shores of Loch Ness instead and skag mah wee heid into oblivion before going monster hunting with rocks in my pockets.*

Continue reading “Without Form and Void | Chapter 2 ‘Blue Green Rock’ | Audiobook” →

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Eight Stories in an Evening

I asked friends to give me a word each so I could build a story from three. It just seemed like a good idea because wine and I’m not saying these wee tales are any good but they made me feel good writing them and that was lovely, thank you. Written in six hours or so, so go easy.

 

SLUG SUGAR SWEAT

They called it a slug, you know, that round that goes in the gun or whatever. I called it a bullet and they all sniggered, sniggered at how I held it, how the sweat poured down my face as I aimed the cursed thing.

One thing’s for damned sure – ain’t no one gonna be callin’ me sugar no more.

 

Continue reading “Eight Stories in an Evening” →

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Adventures in hatred or: Crossing pigs with spinach, pushing the poop and living in the Tribulation

Brandishing a hair-trigger revolver with only one round chambered, the toddler keeps spinning the cylinder, dancing and screaming it wants less, LESS, NOW!
Brandishing a hair-trigger revolver with only one round chambered, the toddler keeps spinning the cylinder, dancing and screaming it wants less, LESS, NOW!

A friend of mine asked how come I was getting so mindfucked with theology while working on a script advocating gay marriage. He said it was purely a civil rights issue and mentioned something about my godless heart burning in hell but I was too busy thinking about gay honeymoons to respond properly.

But now I hope to convince him, and you, that it is impossible to defend the persecution of homosexuality – which is exactly what you are doing by denying gay folk equal rights – without explaining WHY two sets of the same genitals can’t rub up against each other. Continue reading “Adventures in hatred or: Crossing pigs with spinach, pushing the poop and living in the Tribulation” →

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Ringpiece Redux. Vlog #1.1

People have commented on the dreadful amount of “erms” and “ums” in that last video. Also, analytics have shown that few viewers were willing to sit through ten minutes of rambling; so I’ve edited the main point down to ten seconds.

I’m about to start #2. It’ll be more fun; for me at least because it involves rum.

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The love of my life; with name-dropping of philosophers, fugitive policemen and others

The signs in my kitchen have long needed a reason to be shared. As for Katharina, I've not met her; she could still be here among my fellow poltergeists or perhaps the mice have carried her off. Shame - we might have had something.
The signs in my kitchen have long needed a reason to be shared. As for Katharina, I’ve not met her; she could still be here among my fellow poltergeists or perhaps the mice have carried her off. Shame – we might have had something.

Childless women in their thirties staying in bed until the mid-afternoon, reading their first book by Schopenhauer, Seneca or Montaigne – contemplating the apathy with which they regard their own mortality over the first gin of the afternoon and rubbing one out before the news kills the passion – these are the kinds of women you don’t seem to meet dating online.

I just read the manifesto of the vengeful L.A. Cop-Killing Killer-Cop who is currently running rings around his former colleagues after swearing to take the corrupt all to hell with their loved ones for a lack of honour, honesty and common decency. Continue reading “The love of my life; with name-dropping of philosophers, fugitive policemen and others” →

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Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Big Mama Thornton and Alfie:

‘Hound Dog’ stuck on a loop in my head the other day, playing with Alfie – my Mum’s Cocker Spaniel. Turns out that although Elvis has the best known version, the song was first recorded by one Big Mama Thornton. I realise it was stars like Elvis that took the African-American blues to the cracker masses but until recently getting into Lightin’ Hopkins was as far as I crawled out of my lily-white honky box; and I’ve been missing out on so much. Continue reading “Dear John, Alfie the dog and Big Mama Thornton” →

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The squirrels of the fourteen b’ak’tun

14th b'ak'tun squirrel
14th b’ak’tun squirrel

If you’d told me five years ago I’d be spending the last day of planet earth in Gosport I’d have laughed in your face. I’d planned to play it safe and ride out 21st Dec 2012 somewhere up a mountain with a hunting rifle, caring Scandinavian wife and waterfall caves of tinned food. I came to my senses; but when 11.11am passed without global incident I shrugged like everybody else.

Still, there’s always the Rapture to look forward to. That and any number of asteroids. And the whole global warming thing. Another end of the world is always just around the corner, friend. Continue reading “The squirrels of the fourteen b’ak’tun” →

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Poppy is a cat who loves shoes

My girlfriend has a cat whose name is Poppy.
Poppy likes me. Poppy loves my shoes. Poppy doesn’t care about politics, sex or foreign conflicts. She will only drink water from the tap in the bath.
All hail Poppy.
I wish I had a tail. That’d be great, can you imagine it?
Miaow.

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