Past Blasts

Seeing as I am currently bored, creatively bankrupt and more interested in sitting on my arse watching films than doing something as taxing as an interesting new blog post, I have dredged the archives for vintage stuff to show you. So allow me to take you back through the mists of time, to a moment when I was just as clueless as I am today but slightly more deluded about it... about it... about it...........

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Did I tell you I was on the cover of a magazine? Yes? OK. Did you believe me? No, thought not. Well get ready to eat those words, sonny boys and girls. Allow me to present WRITING MAGAZINE (Feb 2005)...

Honest to God, I can't leave my house now without people pointing at me and whispering "Hey, there's that guy from the front of Writing Magazine..." And the other day in town, when I went to pick up the mag... ah, I can't bear to think about it. People were following me from shop to shop, quickly hiding behind pillars and letterboxes and things whenever I turned around. But they couldn't fool me. I could feel them...

I knew I had to do something about it. I just couldn't let them get away with it. So I ran back and looked behind the letterbox and confronted the little old lady there, who was pretending to post a letter. "You leave me alone!" I screamed, blowing her blue rinse all over the place. "I have a right to privacy!" Her Yorkshire terrier was yapping like crazy now, biting my shoes. "It's people like you..." I said. "It's people like..." Words were obviously not working, so I kicked the dog hard and ran off, hoping that would send out a message to the public...

It seemed to work, too. For a while. Then the police came after me, chasing me down Friar Street and through Woolworths and onto the ring road...

I shook them by slipping into the multi-storey and hiding under a silver BMW on the top level. It was dark when I came out. No one could see my face in the dark. I drifted out into the night, weighed down by the futility of man's struggle in an indifferent universe...