I like playing games that look like this:


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Oh my god, I hate that man. He's a cunt. He's a multicunt. He's a multicunted dickhead with no dick. God, he's just so... tall.

God you're crap at breathing.

Thing is, as you get promoted there's less people are allowed to tell you you're shit, but then you start having to tell other people that they're shit. My job now, I have to spend so much time ( Read more... )

When last we left our hero, he was battling to rewrite a script for a deadline for a competition for a well-known broadcaster, for a chance for a place on an exciting scriptwritey residential course. And now... well, now he's watching the X Factor, that's how bad it's got.
Short story: hospital.
Long story: bloody hospital.
Special extended director's ( Read more... )

So, Marc died. It's fine, don't worry, you didn't know him - but it's a shame, 'cos you'd have liked him. He was that kind of guy. Sweet and gentle and funny, he'd have found time for you, known what made you laugh, the names of your kids, how you take your tea. That kind of guy. But more than that - a guy, too, who was passionate about music - ( Read more... )

I've not written anything here for ages, which is of course the normal state of the universe, but, I say BUT, the difference is that rather than being too lazy, I've been too busy. (And too lazy.)

Several unconnected people, who I suppose in a holistic Kevin Bacon way are connected, even if only through knowing me, simultaneously recommended that I ( Read more... )

My favourite argument against gay marriage used to be "It devalues real marriage!", which conveniently is also the favourite argument of people who are, actually, against gay marriage ( Read more... )

Aaaand, you're back in the room ( Read more... )

Oy! That's my chainmail, beard-boy!


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Ahh, the festive season is upon us once more. Yes, wrap up warm in aprons and latex gloves, lay out the panic-button parcels round the vat-grown tree, and vaccinate the carol singers. It's New Drug Day ( Read more... )

Swine News! Diddle-dee-dee, diddle-dee-dee, exciting swirly apocalygraphics.

Bong! Please keep your arms and legs inside the panicky hysterica at all times or YOU WILL DIE.

Bong! Swine Flu officially pronounced more deadly than Man Flu. Nationwide sulking results.

Bong! Michael Portillo is on TV as I type, trying to explain viral evolution. In ( Read more... )