The Polaroids are, uh … in my other coat.

I still exist. Poetically. Philosophically. Physically. Yes, faithful Wuckers. I’m alive and advancing. Dwelling in ye Old Blighty. Enjoying a rather tepid summer and yet another Phoenix rebirth! You see, following the attempted annihilation of my character ‘n’ career by the most recent in a long line of Vaders, I boarded a plane bound forContinue reading “The Polaroids are, uh … in my other coat.”

Once more into the breech, dear friends!

Ah, Wuccans! How to build a bridge across the vast butt-crack of time; to create a proverbial g-string so that we may traverse what has passed and is past with words, wucs and euphemisms? To appropriately update you on what the fuck I’ve been up to while my blog grew hair and mould in theContinue reading “Once more into the breech, dear friends!”

You can’t handle the truth!

I think my mojo has sprung a leak. I can hear the soft whoosh and whine of it deflating, like an airbed long used by porcupines. Though, my hope is it’s more of a falter than ‘flater and will rise again (like John Mayer from the ashes of dignity and seldom silence). I have applied forContinue reading “You can’t handle the truth!”