Ten Things Not To Do…In The Event Of Sex

Essential advice for when you are most in need. Please don't listen to any of it.

Part Two - The Hair Continues

If you missed the first part of my hair story, read Part One here

The next day…

Oh GOD I hate it!! I hate it, I hate it! It’s too short, it is way too short, why did I get it cut so short, what in the name of Bonaparte's balls possessed me to do this?!!

This is the haircut I had when I was 18 - it’s the frigging ‘Rachel’! No one has the Rachel cut anymore, not even Rachel! Not even old episode of Friends with Rachel in them because they digitally altered every episode to give her new hair so no one ever had to think or speak of the Rachel cut again.

Part One - In Which There Is Hair...

A word of warning: this is a story about hair. And the story will be told in two parts...

I was sick of looking in the mirror and thinking “something's not quite right here”. And when I say mirror, I mean a spoon. And when I say spoon, I mean a wooden one.

I was feeling a little sluggish, a little sallow, a little excessively haired in terms of eyebrows and head. Six week until the next am dram show, I mused....I could risk a hair cut.

Places to Quaff and Quarrel - The Black Griffin

The Black Griffin, Canterbury. Curious mythical beast, winged creature of yore, hovering claws and golden of okay I’ll stop. Here is the first in what I hope will be a series of some reviews of places I have visited and did not die in.

I had to meet a friend. I had to meet them for food and to discuss the best way to make people act, on stage, without use of electricity. We normally do this over a large plate of nachos and shame in a pub far away from the city centre. 

 

But I was restless, and had been browsing the internet, looking for something more than tortillas. After looking at several bars and some pictures of worried twigs for a period of time, I chance upon my past, in the form of The Black Griffin.

A Curious Thing

A child just walked past my desk. A female one. Walking quite contentedly in the direction of something, unhindered and unperturbed.

I peer over the top of my computer screen, not at all happy and but trying not to draw attention to myself lest it ask for milk. It disappears around the corner.

It was fairly tall. In fact it was adult sized. In fact, it might have been an adult. A woman, even. In the distance, I swear I hear the words “Bring the labels” being muttered.

I look around the rest of the office. No one has raised the alarm or met my worried gaze. Where is its owner? Why is it here?

It was heading in the direction of the extra desks we’ve set up in order to accommodate the extra staff we need to take all extra calls about being alive. Perhaps this possible infant is new. Perhaps it has been here 30 years and I’ve just not noticed. I must investigate.

I stand slowly, and clear my throat, not taking my eyes off the corner wall for a second.

“Who’s for a nice cup of tea?” I announce, and lift a tray slowly to eye level (I always keep a tray handy for such occasions). There’s no one else here, everyone else is at lunch, but it was important to at least ask.

I step out from my desk, and walk forward at a steady pace. I turn the corner, tray in hand, and head straight for the kitchen, my eyes seemingly fixed forward but in reality they are scanning the office for traces of this being.

No trace, no sign. All I see are grown ups, normal people who are working and are no cause for concern. The figure has vanished....perhaps it was a ghost?

Or it could be sitting over there, where that woman I've not seen before but looks perfectly normal is sitting.

Or a ghost?

I don’t know what’s going on.

Crossing The Border

I once entered America.

I was on foot. I walked across water by means of a bridge. The Rainbow Bridge they called it. It was not rainbow coloured.

How To Make No One Want You

Valentine's Day is a mere something weeks away, and no one wants to be alone on Valentines Day. No one does, not even those people who say “I'm spending it alone, I don't care, I don't even care, Valentine's Day can suck it.” You'll find them, soon enough, in a sex club with a red rose and a smile that says “literally anyone”.

Happy New Year, There Is No Hope

New Year is upon us. Some of you are back at work. I'm not. I'm sooooo not.

Now, I had started writing a post about 2014, new year's resolutions and my thoughts on this period of transitional panicking. But the time is still not right for me to share these musings. First, you must see where I have come from.

So instead here is a piece I wrote a while ago, in 2013. I think you'll find it has that 'new year, new outlook' feel we're all looking for at this time of year...