First. Ever. Shhh.


On a serious note, I’m a fan of the crust. The heel. Start and end parts of the loaf of bread. Whichever name you like to call a rose. Some people aren’t. I am. Especially when it’s toasted. So when I just found out all I had was only one crust left, I didn’t really mind. At all, at all. In fact, couldn’t wait. Horsed it into the toaster. Checked the fridge. What I could put on it. Fridge. Bare. Once. More. Few tomatoes. Toast. Burning. Burnt. Didn’t matter. Burnt crust of toast. Sliced baby tomatoes. Washed down with a glass of gin. Could’ve been a burnt sock. Quite the feast! In fact. A celebratory feast. Why so? Drummer boy, spit it out… I finally finished a full draft of my book. First draft. Rough work draft. Rambling draft. Boney draft. Skeleton draft. According to Hemingway. The s**t one. Continue Reading »

In Reality, What Is Toast?

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Being honest, I could be anywhere in the world at the moment. Cave. Gym. Cave. Sleep. Cave. Gym. And so on. Until the end of this week, that is the way it shall be. First deadline due. Time. Ticking. Pressure. Burning. And. All. That. Anyways, I’ve kind of noticed that it is easy to lose grip on what’s going on in the real world. Big time losing all notion. Waking up to find out I’ve no clean socks. Jocks. Plenty of t-shirts though. Well done me. Regimented eating disappearing. Running out of food. No milk in my fridge. Forgetting about the six meals. Making myself disappear. Continue Reading »