There’s something quite beautiful about a derelict edifice, but there’s also something incredibly pathetic about a person who comes and tends to the weeds and patches up the odd bit of brickwork in the ruins, if you catch my meaning.
Read MoreOther traditional insults and pointed adjectives aren’t even close: fuck, shit, motherfucking, corporal javelin. Pff. My grandma uses all of them. And she’s dead. She just shouts them from her grave as an animated skeleton.
Read MoreRule 2: Don’t dance. Dancing was invented in 1971 by Dr Hubert van de Waggelen as a cruel and unethical social experiment and was never meant to leave his dungeon/laboratory in Utrecht. It incomprehensibly caught on, spread across the world and was retro-fitted with a centuries-old (and far happier) history. By dancing you are (now knowingly) legitimising the perverted experiments of a wicked, wicked man.
Read MoreThe items that we now categorise as weasel words, wank language and corporate buzzwords weren’t always the indefensible, indecipherable brain-slop of desk-shackled keyboard tappers. Almost every single one began as a word or term that didn’t make you want to chainsaw it alive and throw its corpse into an abandoned quarry.
Read MoreSeveral times I’ve approached the edge of the career abyss and thought, “Oo, that gaping void looks alluring.”
Read MoreParenthood is a classroom like no other, and much that you learn within it is applicable to your daily life. Like saying that an audible fart was a frog noise, for example.
Read MoreYou don’t hear many shy voices in the media. You don’t hear many shy voices full stop. That’s the nature of shy voices, isn’t it? They’re either quiet or formed by mouths that err on the side of staying shut… in which case they’re not voices at all. They’re sort of anti-echoes.
Read MoreIs Mondayitis an actual, serious psychophysiological illness or just a throwaway malady akin to man flu and hose buttock? To find out, I asked former GP and practising psychologist Dr Egan Patiens.
Read MoreI’m generationally awry.
I have the Birth Certificate, digital literacy and firm buttocks of a Generation Y, but the basic grammatical skills, suspicion of young people, latent revolutionary zeal and ever-present fear of imminent apocalypse of a Baby Boomer.
Read More[My daughter and I] start throwing Duplo bricks at Mum’s creepy bald doll, which is slumped in the corner of the room like a drunk auntie at a party she wasn’t invited to…
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