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Humour Columns
12 Pubs of a Poetic Christmas (Part One)
Pub One
Every Christmas I attempt this and every Christmas I end up mashed into a taxi after the third pub, screaming obscenities at the driver and crying over whatever man has just broken my sex-drive, by shoving me into the taxi…
Back When Jesus Was Birth Control
Tuesday 2nd December
We move to our town abode next friday. This will be a place of poetic intrigue, heavy drinking and endless self-discovery. I am on many of these journeys already, but I feel it will open Laura up to new worlds.
Laura…
Heartbreak, House-Hunting and Sleeping your Way to the Top
Tuesday 25th November
Banker boy has not accepted my friend request on Facebook.There is a poem surfacing about him, but as of yet, the pain is too fresh. It is a single thump to my face, that blossoms out in a bruise of…
There is no Walk of Shame, Only Poetry in Motion
Tuesday 18th November 2014
Laura and I have decided to get a house in town together. I said this was only OK under the condition that she didn’t contract anymore STDs.
Wednesday 19th November 2014
My grandmother has decided to stage an…
Dress Like A Slut and Dance Like A Poet
Tuesday 11th November 2014
Tomorrow I must speak again. I will not open my mouth except to utter profundities.
Things I will no longer speak about:
The weather - to continue to do so would result in becoming a…
Silencing the context and suddenly hearing the layers of an onion
Tuesday 4th November
Word count: prolific
Lorna fired me from Gala. She cried and said she’s never fired anyone before, because people always quit first. That made me feel shit. The average Gala employee has the…
Embracing the Infinite and Potatoes
Tuesday 28th October
My brother is moving in with Xbox girl. Mother thinks this is a great idea, despite the fact that he has no job and as far as we know, met her two weeks ago. She said “isn't young love grand.” Which made it…
When your Eyebrows are more Obvious than your Face
Tuesday 21st October 2014
Words: have disappeared
It is over a week since I have found time to commit anything to paper. What have I been doing? Living? No, no, no, my life is an endless stream of mayonnaise and frustration.
I…
Online Dating and the Death of Romance
Monday 6th October
Writing: Five hours creating the perfect online profile.
This morning I remained bundled under my covers and cursed Gala for the ache in my lower back - buttering rolls has twinged something. I…
Buttering Up – and other ways to lose your faith in humanity
Monday 29th September 2014
Word count: 2000 words
Submissions: My monthly check in with the New Yorker- submission guidelines are for those that give-up too easily.
I was a state last night. Mother found me in…