Earlier today, I attempted to call my phone company in order to sort out an upgrade, and, when I was inevitably put on hold, I found that, in lieu of the typical polyphonic elevator music, I was to be subjected to what I can only describe as a bizarre clacking reminiscent of the old Internet dial up tone. As I was too lazy to endure the simply arduous torture of holding my phone up to the side of my face, I decided to plug it into my earphones, meaning that I could hear nothing but the robotic white noise reverberating through my skull.


As I was strolling briskly from work one morning, I was subject to a very interesting close encounter. The phrase ‘close encounter’ has an inherent connotation of extraterrestrialism, but I assure you, what met me was far stranger. On this fair-weathered morning,  I was suddenly accosted by Mormons (no, not ‘morons’ although the parallels are certainly present).

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He entered the gym: eye patch on, peg leg in; he’d made his costume himself. It was a pilates class. He realised his mistake immediately.


It snowed here a little while ago. I took some photos, because why not. I’ve become one of those Instagram assholes. It’s why my food is always cold. I digress. Here’s some white stuff to look at.


Okay, I’m a little late for this one, but it’s been eating me up inside since I reluctantly saw the movie on a plane last month. 2014’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: a film that tries desperately to convince us that it isn’t a Michael Bay film, all the while trying desperately to emulate a Michael […]