Recently it has come to my attention that the internet is good for things other than locating vulnerable people in order to cleanse their minds of the lives they once knew so they may join your sacred order and begin afresh as a jumpsuit-clad Follower named Redfern #48242. It’s also good for finding restraints, copious amounts of mind-altering hallucinogens, and jumpsuits. Also, debate. Terrible, terrible debate.
Generally I try to avoid getting drawn in to aggressive discussions online, be they about upcoming …
Hello! Now you may have noticed that I have been absent since October. This is because I’ve been very very busy. As such, I would like to correct the following rumours:
1. I was not ‘buried in an avalanche’ and it was not ‘just what he (I) deserved’. The snow in Berlin is not that deep, and at worst I deserve slipping on some ice and falling down a small flight of stairs.
2. I did not ‘get involved in organised crime …
Now I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t understand babies. They’re loud, they’re smelly, and they’re sub-par at handling the most basic of firearms.
In fact, I’m pretty sure the only reason people have babies is so they get to name something, a name that something will have to live with for the rest of its life. Though many countries restrict the ability of parents to name their baby ‘Colonel Barabbas 9/11’, thankfully lands which speak the language of Queen …
No-one is better at dating than my ultra-heterosexual alter-ego, Straight Red – who, in his own words, is “absolutely surrounded by human females”. According to himself, Straight Red dates so many women that he often needs to spend hours, even days, wrestling with other men just to replenish his own masculinity (naked, just as they did in mega-manly ancient Greece).
“Covering yourself in another man’s sweat is a great way to keep those testosterone levels up,” he insists, a faraway look …
How To Be a “Real” “Writer” This “Summer”:
Ah, summer. Lovers frolicking barefoot through the abandoned needle-strewn streets; furious, disowned dogs chasing children through the underfunded wilderness of once-proud public parks; the delightful bikini top worn by the strange man who waits for you outside your front door. Yet you won’t be witness to any of these delightful sun-month traditions. You’re a writer now, and that means dedication, isolation, and total darkness.
Close the blinds. Don’t let the shameless, sinful lure of …