Stare Into Space

The Day After Christmas

It is the day after Christmas and I’m in a bit of a weird mood. I suspect one of two things:

My spleen has secreted excess humour – a black bile if you will – that has brought on a bout of melancholia.
I’m getting fed up with the Christmas experience of staying at my folks.

This leaves [...]

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 debase 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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    • "Dad, I'm going to need new underpants." Not what a parent wants to hear from daughter in bathroom. Jul 29th
    • I appear to be developing Runner's Feet. Not pretty. Also, erstwhile Sedentary Me is deeply concerned that I'm developing runner's anything. Jul 28th
    • BIG (Had a look and can't believe nobody's gone for that) Jul 28th
    • "Call a doctor, I'm lovesick… Yeow!" The Jonas Brothers' juggernaut rolls on, crushing lesser lyricists under its mighty figurative wheels. Jul 28th
    • Showered, eaten a soggy scone and had tea. The horrors of the torrent are behind me. This day can do no more to me. [Taunts the fates] Jul 27th

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