In conclusion:
Continue reading “Our Rock is an Alcoholic and We Are Happy-Hour. Part Four”
WRITER | DINOSAUR | LOON
I was going to write something about the festival but in the end I didn’t want to so instead I filmed people while drinking to feel less bad about not wanting to. We had a nice time.

Day Eight.
Tuesday 12th June seems a world away. I’d been on a two day bender around the city; walking here and there; taking the odd photo; talking to people almost as much as I spoke to myself; and crawling in and out of pubs along the way. I woke up the next day fully dressed with all the lights still on, Bowie still stuck on his Berlin Trilogy and cold chips too close not to be breakfast. I clawed at recollection more smoke and dust than memory and came to the conclusion that it’d been fun; but what now? I need a dog, not another hangover. Continue reading “One Week Without Alcohol or Coffee: A Psychonaut’s Cautionary Tale”
I don’t want to alarm anyone living in Middlesbrough any more than they already will be – having woken up and, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, remembered that they live in Middlesbrough – but far from ‘Putting People First’, Cleveland Police doesn’t have your back; in fact it would appear that they are perfectly content for you and your loved ones to burn in the fires of prophecy.
I put in a Freedom of Information request last month to their HQ; I found a popular template, which helped make me sound smart, and added my query, which didn’t: Continue reading “Exclusive: Cleveland Police Ill-Prepared for Apocalypse”
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”

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”

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”

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”

I’ve spent the majority of my adult life living abroad, and for the most part I found it more bearable than not doing so; but if history has taught us anything it is that all foreigners are little more than vile savages before a fear of the Christian Lord and a good command of the Queen’s is raped into them.
One thing that some of them do seem a hell of a lot better than us at though is recycling; from India’s slums to the supermarkets of Denmark, it is understood that there is money in ‘waste’, be it sorting through what others throw away or collecting the deposit on all the dog-end filled empty bottles littering your apartment after a party. Continue reading “Our Rock is an Alcoholic and We Are Happy-Hour. Part Two”