Signs of a bad huangover (too much saki) (no. 194 in a continuing series of alcoholic diasters) : Putting instant coffee in my filter coffee. Eesh.

Every day I hurry on the way to my perceived work past what Les Routiers (Levenshulme’s premier chip gourmand) shurely must call ‘Bath’s finest eating establishment’; McDonald’s. And every night I stroll back past, and think “I could really do with soaking my heart in a big hunk of fat.” This, despite what I’ve read…

too many thoughts, not enough sleep. Article title “How can you be pregnant and stylish?” in the increasingly small c conservative Guardian – how can you be so fatuous yet run the country’s media, and be the progenitor of the next generation of that bubbleheaded capital elite? Drives me to tears, I tell ya.

This morning I woke up deaf. Rolled over and found it was just one ear, but worrying all the same.Tried multiple methods for loosening of said wax. (bath, finger, toilet paper.) Nothing fixed. Walking to work, I found myself in a ghostly bliss, everything chilled and foglike. Spent much time this afternoon waiting in one…

Nepotism. Profligate disease or the most productive system yet found for the regulation of society? Ask a member of our ruling elite and you may suprisingly find the latter. A few bitter old sods, like yours truly, may claim the former but we can be dismissed out of hand for being failings of the system,…