An Idiot’s Guide… I’m often asked, “when are you coming to collect these souls?” Or, “why don’t you do something about it?” Finally, I am regularly asked if I have the room in Hell. These are all questions that have complex and straightforward answers. I use straightforward, simplistic answers a lot. I am going to…
“He often thought it deeply ironic that if a depressed person walked into his office and said the world was so grim that he could not face it, he had to treat him as a sick man. Actually, the patient was right. He saw the truth only too clearly. But he was sick, because he…
In many ways, I have confined myself to my prison: the four walls inside this house that I call home being the bars on my life. The very thing that contains me is also my comfort blanket. Shouldn’t your home be your safe space? Shouldn’t that be where you always feel safe? What if that…
I shall be honest with you; I always am. Upon approaching this subject, my first thought was to burn the lot to the ground. To burn it with hellfire, piss on it, mix it up into a gooey paste, and then bury it. Once buried, it should have a headstone of a giant cock. Upon…
The Perverse Punishments For Being Poor. “Tally ho, old chap. I see you are here to sweep the chimney. I shall be paying the usual £4.50, but as you well know, I charge you £5.00 for the privilege of entering my home. So you owe me £1.50”. “That loaf of bread? That’ll be £1 for…
**D**epression, ah, my dastardly nightmare. The distressing, dogmatic dumping of despair and anguish in my life. It is not just ”being sad”, and we can’t pull ourselves together and get on with it. We can be fine and dandy one moment, and then, bam, like the Tango man, it jumps out and hits us. We…
Hell. The darkness engulfed him. He knew how his tale would unfold like a TV rerun or a record skipping backwards. He had been here before, and he would be here again. His Hell was eternal, his torment timeless. The man looked around at his torment. He was young, barely a man, but more than…
I once read a story; in that story, there was a man who wrote a message on some toilet paper. This tale was set in the seventies, so you’d presume shit roll is of a better quality today. I can only assume it was that awful Izal stuff because writing on modern loo roll is…
“Hello,” a voice said. The voice belonged to the woman I had spoken to and helped at the store. Why, indeed how, we had ended up in the park simultaneously, I have no idea. I do not believe in fate or destiny, so I am only left to thank the hands of chance. She looked…
And finally, in week two of April, we are back to some kind of normality. I wrote about good things being in the shadow of evil; the vaccine has been a great success. In such a short space of time, scientists have managed to create an inoculation that keeps people alive. It is not a…
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