December 11th, 2007 § 1
Is it Groundhog Month or something?
Every day I pick up one or more of the free London papers, and every single day I see some detail or other about how Diana died, and oh look Amy Winehouse popped to the shops at 1am for lollies, and Lily Allen likes going out more than doing any work.
Every day.
WTF?
–c.
November 18th, 2007 § 0
November 13th, 2007 § 0
Best Facebook status update I’ve seen yet:
“Indigo Down is eating Kinder. He also realizes that this sounds sinister in German.”
It does, too.
–c.
November 3rd, 2007 § 1
This is pretty fucked up, right here.
–c.
October 17th, 2007 § 1
“Idol”
Inspired, horrifying, entrancing, brutal, wonderful, and sick in equal measure.
–c.
October 11th, 2007 § 0
“What shall I tell you about the people who inhabited the caves below the Lido? Their eyes were huge and unseeing. They had an ingenious method for hunting bats. It goes like this: you wait until you can hear wings snickering in the air around you. You pluck a stone from the floor of the cave and throw it over your head. The bat’s sonar registers the small flying object as an insect, and it swoops down for a snack. You swing the tennis racket hard and if you time it just right you knock the little squeaker out of the air and then you fall on it and pull off its wings and roast it on a spit over a fire.”
–c.
August 1st, 2007 § 0
To compensate for the titanic post of tedium most delirious wot I wrought yesterday, I bring you today Thirty Thousand Streets.
Oddly poignant and eminently readable short stories based on one young man’s experiences of moving to London. Only two instalments at this time, but as Shaw Taylor would have advised, keep ‘em peeled for more.
(Via Ade).
–c.