This is a collection of notes to myself and (mostly) daily ruminations of my personal happenings to get me back into the habit of writing again.
No guarantees can be made for your interest in what lies beyond, in fact there's a very real danger of it actually sucking in interest from the surrounding area.
Stop talking about Anita Sarkeesian. Stop talking about Zoe Quinn. Let’s talk about some actual women...
It’s an experiment.
I’ve written two books with such a...
I had actual drinks at an actual pub with actual friends after work last night, and this morning I get a text asking how my head is.
My head is fine, but but but why you ask? Did I do something really horribly stupid that my brain has written over with “FINE FINE, EVERYTHING WAS FINE, ALL OF THIS, NOTHING TO SEE MOVE ALONG PLEASE”?
Damn you brain, we’re supposed to work together, we talked about this!
Text back saying “You were funny, charming and lovely. You did good, kid”. Oh. Oh well that’s all right then.
Also, the “You did good, kid” makes my feel like a floozy with a heart of gold in an olde-timey, black-and-white, film noir-style film who may get the affectionate nickname Hot Lips. I. I like that.
2x pint of cider drink.
1x pint of lager drink.
1x double gin and tonic drink.
4x vodka flavoured vodka shots.
1.5x Dairylea Lunchables cheese and ham crackers.
All after a late night shift in the petrol station and still in my work uniform because I am classy. Still better than my old drinking regime which is still going very well, by the way.