The place where dreams are manufactured

As long as they’re plastic dreams, wrapped in sparkly cynicism and tied with a big, money-grasping, bow. Yes, I’m off to Disneyland Paris. Four glorious days of that rictus rodent gurning and waving with his podgy, gloved hands at me. Four days of Heston Blumenthal prices for sub-fairground fast food.  Four days of educationally sub-normal […]

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.