Move it or lose it, Toots.

Fuckadoodledoo. My landlord just gave me notice. I gotta move outta my beloved abode afore the next solstice. Four years in, I could feel this day approaching – fast and furious like the errant arse of Vin Diesel. Yessireebobtail I’ve dreaded it. Now it’s nigh and, well. I’m gutted. Just quietly. My life is implodingContinue reading “Move it or lose it, Toots.”

Passing precipitation ‘n’ ponderment.

If the cousin to contentment, twice removed, had a love affair with the Byron of boredom, their offspring would be akin to my current mood. Moments of contentment flash by, like the brilliant white of lightning, before the ever familiar rumble of thunder follows. Sometimes. I have such a feeling of calm that it feelsContinue reading “Passing precipitation ‘n’ ponderment.”

Initiative comes to thems that wait.

Holy shit box, it’s August. With a new month, comes new expectations. None that I’ll rise to, but still. In other news, did I mention that I’m learning Latin? Also known as the language of love (or armor inopiae) (lack thereof). When I imparted this in passing to the dubious fuckers who populate my workingContinue reading “Initiative comes to thems that wait.”

We’re only trying to get us some sleep.

My brain be scattered, like the bones of a zombie on the highway of a free-wheeling granny. I had another birthday last week. Alas, it was a rather defeated affair. As if ageing were a schoolyard bully who’d pushed my knees to the gravel (upward wedgie in one hand, downward lunchbox in t’other) one tooContinue reading “We’re only trying to get us some sleep.”

Let me hold your crown, babe.

How am I special needs? Let me count the ways. I’ve listened to the same song for weeks now. We’re talkin’, hour after hour. Day after day. Week after Lindsay Lohan week. And in seemingly unrelated news (to be said in the dulcet tones of a newsreader whose balls have most definitely dropped) … whenContinue reading “Let me hold your crown, babe.”