The Second Coming

By John Niven.

Read in an afternoon.

Damn Fine Writing.

The Birds and the Bees

 

Little bird up in a tree
Looked down and sang a song to me
Of how it began
The trout in the shiny brook
Gave the worm another look
And told me not to worry
About my life
Tree in my own backyard
Stands all alone
Bears fruit for me
And it tastes so good
Where's my pretty bird
He must have flown away
If I keep singing
He'll come back someday
Dawn, bird's still gone
Guess I'll go mow the lawn
What a day, what a day
What a beautiful day this is

S.A.T.U.R.D.A.Y

FANCY DRESS

MOJITOS

3AM SAUSAGE SANDWICHES

ENOUGH SAID

Fresh Air and Red Hair

Today I felt like l needed a new lease of life. And apart from running away with the circus (can one DO that nowadays?), having a sordid affair with a lonseome clown, and spending my days adorned in sequins whilst hurling myself across thin air on a daily basis, l could only think of one solution. It was red.

Refreshed, revitalised, and smelling strongly of hydrogen peroxide l decided l strolled alongside the river, startling  the local wildlife with my flame coloured locks.

All in all, a bright day.

Gin and Tattoos - 27/07/11

Three women + several Gin & Tonics = laughter and screeching worthy of Macbeth's witches themselves. Add in a cauldron and a few bats heads and there would have been murder a plenty. The conversation quickly slipped into the gutter as we bonded over awful sexual experiences. Concurrently we perved on the young, alternative, tattooed and dreadlocked men in the vicinity. It was not subtle. I was, however, slightly embarrassed as we peeled ourselves off the sheets to drink tea and eat toast in the sunshine this morning. Nevertheless, the music was more than brilliant. Check these boys out:

Tom Eno

James Bright

'Til tommorrow..... xx