We’ve been asked to write about racism in the UK. Are we covertly racist or genuinely inclusive? I immediately sat and hammered away a draft, thinking I had a pretty good sense of things; subjectively, of course. Waking up the next day, I sat for my morning movements while doom-scrolling the news, as is tradition – and oh my good Lord in hell. Continue reading “What Rhymes with UK Racism?”→
In the miserable year that the Tories regained power, a humble investment banker from Southampton joined a hedge fund called Theleme, which would go on to invest in Moderna. Yes, that Moderna.
Dishy Rishi Sunak became a Conservative MP in 2015, rising up the party ranks until, as Chancellor of the Exchequer during the COVID-19 pandemic, he brought in hedge fund partner, John Sheridan, as an advisor. Goodness knows whose advice he was taking when he axed the £20-a-week increase in Universal Credit but it was our first proper indicator of his compassion for the poors. Continue reading “Kingdom of the Sunak”→
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.
The photo showed a woman whose make-up struggled to cover the years, let alone the rest. She clung proudly to a rough looking teen I assumed was her son. The little treasure himself wore a glare that said, ‘Don’t you dare even think about fucking my mum.’
I’ve been trying to make myself sound professional on LinkedIn but, rather than simply batter myself to death with the keyboard, I decided to have a little fun with the Honors & Awards section. Either the result is the best thing I’ve ever written or I really ought to get some sleep. Continue reading “A one hundred word story about work”→
What began as All But One of Those Lights in the Sky are Dead and very nearly became Fucking Danish Girls sorted itself out once I’d started pretending to be an unhinged lesbian living in the future. I hope it’s as enjoyable to read as it was to write.
Paperback out now; eBook too (with dodgy looking preview—cheers, Amazon.)