May 2013
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Guys, I beg you, if you have a cat or even borrow one from time to time, or find one on the street or in your mail box or in a ceral packet (it could happen) please do a cat beard. Seriously. it would be so great and make me insanely happy*.
*It doesn’t take much.
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No one (yet) has called me Justine Bieber today.
I miss yesterday.
:(
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My friend’s 9-year old son found a dead baby porpoise on the beach today.
We were on the long undercliff path that runs from Brighton for miles east beneath the high crumbling chalk cliffs that I love. The sea was angry and pea-green, seaweed and crab shells and cuttlefish bones flung all the way past the usual high tide line right up against the sea wall, wind so strong we had to lean into it...
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Hey guess what. After hours of drinking many quantities of Woodford Reserve Kentucky bourbon, you can be seriously happy with a packet of Skittles Sours for dinner.
Who knew?
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Oh, whiskey.
Whiskey whiskey whiskey.
:)
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“Goodbye everybody! Guess what, I was secretly an undercover rock star this whole time!”
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We have a new data entry guy at work. He sits in my office. There’s only me and him in the room and we face each other over our touching desks. He must be in his very early twenties, he’s tall and thin and pale and stooped. Like a character from a Dickens novel. He came in on the first morning I was in last week - he’d not met me before as I only work 2 days a week now - didn’t even look at...
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“I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?”
Ernest Hemingway
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The Hare Krishnas in the flat below are really going for it tonight. With all that drumming and chanting my floor is shaking with the happy vibes. It must be, like, at least a 7.8 on the Finger Cymbals Richter Scale up here.
April 2013
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Wildcat by Khalil Joseph, scored by Flying Lotus
A beautiful, mesmerising, dialogue-free short film about an African-American rodeo in Grayson, Oklahoma.
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Rad
In two hours today I had five random people comment on the jacket in that photo, saying it’s “great” or “rad” or asking where I got it. Five people. It’s just an old biker jacket. I mean, it’s a perfect old biker jacket that fits like it was made for me, but roughly 97.5% of all Brighton residents have one and it’s just like all the rest. So what I’m saying is that...
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Today's discovery
For a tiny, non-moustachioed English girl I sure do a fantastic impression of Ron Swanson.
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I’ve eaten all of the chocolate just before bed - because I am an idiot - and I feel sick and like I could fly to the moon at the same time. Is this what catnip does to cats? Why is it that I can drink half a bottle of bourbon and feel fine but a bit of sugar makes me mental? Don’t answer that. Wow. My insides are so confused right now. My outsides too. All of my sides. I’m shooting a...
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Margaret Thatcher’s funeral will have a Falklands... →
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An Afternoon
As he writes, without looking at the sea, he feels the tip of his pen begin to tremble. The tide is going out across the shingle. But it isn’t that. No, it’s because at that moment she chooses to walk into the room without any clothes on. Drowsy, not even sure where she is for a moment. She waves the hair from her forehead. Sits on the toilet with her eyes closed, head...
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A group of kittens is called a kindle. A kindle of kittens. Isn’t that great? I never knew and I think it’s pretty great. But then I’m exhausted so most things have an aura of wonder about them today.
But seriously: a kindle of kittens.
Holy shit, our ex-Prime Minister Maggie Thatcher is dead. I thought she’d always be around, that she’d live on and on and on like other mythical monsters have.