The Beginning

Reading Time: 2 minutes

My Dear Kevin, Yo Brother, I’m Still Alive, Fuck it All, I don’t know how Cheryl + Keith got me thru but they did, lots and lots of blood. Curried muck, I cried buckets full.

I am banana (cos they’ve got no bones) manana (tomorrow) and all the rest yama yama. Suck your bus. Im full of emptiness and the pucker – lips nowt. I’m sane and know i know what I’m saying but am righting it down 2 U so you know it and oh how it has been and o’h how it is ‘cos I know you know. Had my phone stolen 2 months ago and don’t care. Take – no – log – ee and the rest of it.… Read more

Chow Minge

Reading Time: 4 minutes

My Dear Chap, To Whom It May Concern etc

I’m crazy and so is my wife, welcome to Barbados have a nice day. Damn and blast it! Beauty is in the eye of the bum-holder. I can’t keep from crying sometimes, that fucking bitch still haunts me waking and dreaming but it’s only sometimes not all the time. Serves me right i suppose, I should have known better than to fall in love with a drunken whore but she seemed so nice, love is blind and I could not see it until it was too late. When all of a sudden a great mealy pudding came flying through the sky.

My mate Scottish Keith who lives upstairs said one day – “She was a nice lass but a bit flaky like.”… Read more

Head / Shed

Reading Time: 2 minutes

Mrs R.,

My fucking mate has got a fucking head in his fucking microwave, he keeps taking slices off when he needs them. There are two fucking more in his fucking fridge. Mind you he cooked us up a nice bit of snap in the galley tonight, I don’t quite know what was in it but it was nice. The spider on my lamp has just caught a fly twice the size of it and has taken it home to have a scoff. He was on about making a film about us lot, the firm, psycho’s etc etc but I can’t remember much about it ‘cos we were off our fucking maps. The thing is that you can’t improve on reality in a fucking situation like that, I mean, two fucking heads in the fucking fridge.… Read more

Live Frogs

Reading Time: 6 minutes

Dear Mrs R,

Got the most amazing pure amphetamine, rock, one of my mates calls it ‘hurry – up’, am having a speed/vodka interface binge, am a total mess, am gonna become more of a mess but I’m fucked-up so can it make any difference? Need to cool it or I’m gonna snap and lose it and hurt somebody like some of my mates do, but it’s ok, I’ll get a grip. Up there for thinking, down there for dancing. I’m hot – wired and the fucking wheel is spinning but fuck it, you know I don’t care but I do care don’t I, I don’t know anymore. They go on about ‘It’s not over til the fat lady sings’, it’s from some stupid opera (opera winfield?)… Read more

Lost Folks Week

Reading Time: 8 minutes

Dear Mrs R,

I’ve lost it, it was here just a minute ago but now I’ve lost it, it’s lost, gone. I can’t remember what it was now but it was important, very important, I think it was important but I can’t remember. I can’t remember what it was but I lost it, it’s gone. Anyhow, it’s lost. I think I remember having it over there, maybe I think I could have put it down, possibly, over there. Then I might have come back over here, after having maybe put it down over there, possibly. Then if I maybe went back over there and found it wasn’t there, that might be about right, but if I can’t remember what it was and Iv’e forgotten what I did with it, how do I know what happened?… Read more


Reading Time: 6 minutes

Whooo-ee Mrs!

It’s Friday and I’m stoned off me map and just embarking on another vodka frenzy, fine. Had a few days off, needed to, the last frenzy went on forever and ever and landed with a big bump at the end of last weekend. So I chilled out with a big lump of (suprisingly good) solid for a few days and made the most of what sun we’ve had, I went for a long walk on the beach up to Sandsend and back, walked in the sea, cold but nice, it was a powerful tide that day, going out, off my trolley. I need to talk about Peek-A-Boo Man while I can, before it’s too late, it’s getting weirder, he’s getting stranger.… Read more

Down The Lane

Reading Time: 8 minutes


Phew, thank fuck, the fucking intense attack of loneliness has lifted, may be back tomorrow but I don’t mind if I can enjoy it while it’s away. Rant, rump, runt, ramp. Ling. Conger. Vodka/hash interlude. For the rest of my life I hope. Hop or rope. Is that your watermelon, can I exchange it for a bit of fish-wrapper? Crab. Eel. My mates room is full of fridges now but there’s no fucking way I’m looking in any of the cunts, even when he threatened to shoot me. I don’t eat anything when I go round to his place anymore.

Think I’ve finally got the key to the blues, but it’s avery painful experience to go through ‘cos it’s all a bit too near the knuckle at the moment, but am going thru and will come out the other side with some magic music as ever, ha.… Read more

Pigs and Wands

Reading Time: 9 minutes


What a crazy time, we’ve had to get rid of the fridges and start shooting people’s limbs off, ‘cos we don’t want to kill ’em. They won’t remember then, if they’re dead, so shoot ’em in the limbs and then they’ll remember what they got shot for. Had a Coblers Monday today, it’s what the fishermen used to do when they’d got that pissed on a Sunday that they couldn’t work the next day, so the only thing to do is get pissed again. We had to nail this bloke’s hand to the floor and put food 6″ beyond his reach, we didn’t have to do the food thing but introduced it into the game just to jolly it up a bit, just for daftness.… Read more

Upside Down

Reading Time: 9 minutes

Mr Rude-froth,

Blind dead, sad and stupid after the death of cupid, harrow. Follow the furrow, chasing the fucking ploughlads out of the field. Wielding a gun, son, threatening to shoot everyone. No nose, no eyes, no mouth, no more. MORE! Had a crisis last weekend, in case you couldn’t tell.

In brief, I collapsed in the pub in the early hours of Saturday morning. Woke up at 7a.m. and didn’t know who I was or what I was or where I was and I’d pissed the bed. Felt drugged, felt like I’d been spiked, Steve and the Geez had to help me upstairs and put me in one of the guest rooms. Turns out someone was buying me drinks and making me drink quick (I drink at my own pace, learned to, remember the days of me swilling ’em down and doing the collapse calypso) in a stupid ‘I can drink more than you game’.… Read more

Wibbly Wobbly

Reading Time: 8 minutes


Vaseline, germaline and vicks, that’s Keith’s winter survival kit. The leaves are falling from the trees, the sun is much lower in the sky. I’m stoned and wondering about this ‘n that, no music on, listening to the clock tick and the fridge gurgling and the noises of the house, time for a bit of thinking. Spent a week without going to the pub, they phoned the other night to see if I was o.k. and I had to promise to be in tonight, will get shot if I don’t. Am ready for it again, oh yes, let’s get mental. With a little help from Miss hash and Miss vodka, the cutest little ladies you have ever seen, one’s a bit lumpy and the other one’s very transparent, but they are so beautiful, baby, beautiful.… Read more