Monthly Archives: December 2016

After a solitary first half of 2016, mainly writing in the attic and creating occasional one off shows for festivals, the second half has mainly been attached to Professor Cox. From Glastonbury Monkey Cage via an Australian tour, a musical … Continue reading →

I am writing about The Wedding Present sat alone outside on a dark night with a pint of bitter, this seems the right thing to do. My wife is out and the babysitter isn’t expecting anyone home so early, so … Continue reading →

Damn you, Reece Shearsmith, you moistened my eyes again. I enjoy coincidence. There is a little part of me that might delight in being befuddled by patterns of synchronicity, but I presume the startling moments of coincidence are just reminders … Continue reading →

I talked too much tonight. That’s the problem of being a professional talker, sometimes you forget to stop.I don’t do many gigs now. Tonight, I was drunk before I touched a drop. I recorded the final few lines of documentary … Continue reading →

My son wanted to take the long cut to school on the way to the Winter Fair. It is better than pavement as it has branches and thorns and mud. It is only a few metres from the road I’ll … Continue reading →

What a curse is self-awareness for those whose life has turned to mulchy grimness. I feel prurient, staring at the man who doesn’t even allow his eyes to look into the lens that is capturing his despair. His teeth are … Continue reading →

The man arguing with his girlfriend near the sugary drinks cabinet has a hooded top on declaring, “If it has Tits or Tires, I can make it squeal”. It is an unusually large font for a hooded top. His authority … Continue reading →