I was quite impressed in editing how the shadows under my elf hood would combine with my poorly trimmed beard and general fatness to give me the jowls of a creature from Labyrinth.
Working off a script would have kept the length down if I hadn’t chosen to review seven bottles at the same time. My delivery is a bit off but this isn’t really a format that lends itself to multiple takes. If there’s a fine line between witty spontaneity and making a script reading sound natural, then I fell off it and spilt drink down my trousers.
Well, here we are. I’ve done ten of these bloody liquor reviews now. It was back in May 2012 that I did the first. Thinking back, whoever ran Whyte & Mackay’s Twitter account retweeted it, which was nice, because all I’ve ever needed is encouragement.Continue reading “|10| Sangsom Thai Rum | Review but Not Really”
With maximum energy, here I am again.
We can do better than this.
Yes, it’s another review from your boy – the charm ministry and wit rollercoaster that is Mr Parlett.
The Woodsman is a scotch whisky from Glasgow or maybe the Philippines. I’m not entirely sure I ever did find out. This is a review of it anyway.
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A good friend and colleague sent me a bottle of Kenyan gin and asked me to review it. This is the result. Stay safe out there.
…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”
My closest friend is writing a book – and by closest I mean the one that is physically the furthest away – so I’m reading the drafts as he believes I’ll be cruel but constructive though unavoidably gushing in my feedback because he is obviously a far better writer than me.
I’ll get it set out in carbon for the tattooist but at the moment I’m still wrecking my idiot brain with the script I stupidly jumped at the opportunity to write, and by wrecking I mean coming off the codeine with Captain America and Valerian tea. Continue reading “I’m not dead; but I was there”