1st January 2018
Boom.
    This is the future. And by the future, I mean now. The present. 2018. It’s rubbish.
    Why, then? I’ve been asking myself this for too long in my haberdashery of nonsense, casting off hat after hat of ignorance and hope and determination just for a futile glimpse of a woodpecker of hope or a chaffinch of reassurance but here – THE FUCK – we are.
    Why?
    Fuck you, chaffinch.

11th December 2017
“Vultures, vultures everywhere.”
    That’s what that asshole in Casablanca said. Or something like that, anyway. And he was right: I visited Homebase this morning to buy a bronze bucket and a new, gleaming pair of twattybangles for the garden and who had just swooped in and bought the entirety of the remaining stock? That’s right: a flump (to use the collective noun) of vultures.
    For supper, I ate an engine to perk myself up.
    Brrm-brrm, it went.
    Brrrm-brrm.