Stare Into Space

What are you supposed to say?

Posted on | April 28, 2008 | 3 Comments

My overtired daughter is currently upstairs, wailing that she ‘wants to be a real fairy’.

Bloody kids.


Gerry Hayes

Gerry Hayes

I mostly sit around all day and drink tea. Occasionally, I write stuff and send it to strangers so they can humiliate me and deride my efforts. Other than the self-harm to dull the shame of failure, it's not a bad life. Like I say, there's tea.

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    • I am Gerry’s insomniac hypothalamus
    • Daughter's room looking disconcertingly like crashed vessel on LV-426.
    • Huge apple from my tree. To demonstrate how big it is, I stood beside it for a photo.
    • Dreamed I was an X-factor judge. Only contestant: a 3-year old boy who sang a song called Welly Messy Christmas. Awful—he went home crying.
    • Tee hee.
    • For a fee, I’ll be happy to consult. #eggspert
    • On the one hand, it’s a bit sad for a man in his forties to have only recently learned how to poach two eggs at once. On the other hand, yum
    • "Awwhh. Daaaad. I punched my cheek with my knee." I wish this sort of thing was rare.
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