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 [...]

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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    • Two pizzas is too much.
    • Last night, a bloke entered pub toilet, unbuttoned his fly and had a wee all one-handed as he texted with the other. We live in the future.
    • Blackbird making nest in my back yard. Soon I shall steal its eggs and devour their soft-boiled souls.
    • Can I get a grant to research snoozing? The money will go towards tea, biscuits and one of those blankets with sleeves.
    • IT WILL ALL HURT by Farel Dalrymple is a thing of strange and wonderful beauty http://t.co/3fal3O0r
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