Gladrags and Body Bags. Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love The ‘Rona.

Now that we’ve defeated Covid-19 by – *checks notes* – pretending that we’ve defeated Covid19, we’re off to our next existential crisis, in which we mobilise platoons of Billy Brownshirts to protect our statues from rampaging hordes of imaginary Antifas armed with grappling hooks and bits of string.    And don’t worry too much if … Continue reading Gladrags and Body Bags. Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love The ‘Rona.

Written in the Prophecies. Or on Scratchcards: Thoughts on an Election #6

Last weekend I watched as some local Dickensian urchins senselessly vandalised the front garden of a harmless, little old man. They were stomping on pot plants, urinating in the ornamental pond, ripping up the herbaceous border, and I chased them away but only with the implicit threat of a minority Labour administration propped up by … Continue reading Written in the Prophecies. Or on Scratchcards: Thoughts on an Election #6

Boris Johnson’s Offspring Numberwang: Thoughts on an Election #5

How many children does the prime minister have? No-one seems to know. Not even the prime minister. All the womens, they want a go on BoJo’s upstanding member. Little Lord FauntleFuck, his tickle stick primed and ready. Does he tour the country in a Luton van, a stained mattress in the back? He pulls to … Continue reading Boris Johnson’s Offspring Numberwang: Thoughts on an Election #5

Nothing Can Divide Us (apart from the Heptagonal Shrapnel in our Bloody Foreheads): Thoughts on an Election #2

On election day in 2010, Nigel Farage had his plane crash. It was funny and also rubbish – two things that a plane crash shouldn’t be. In the February of 2019, Ross Thompson, the former Conservative member for Aberdeen South, got drunk in a House of Commons bar and started grabbing men’s genitals. Which ran … Continue reading Nothing Can Divide Us (apart from the Heptagonal Shrapnel in our Bloody Foreheads): Thoughts on an Election #2

All the Pretty Things are Going to Hell: Thoughts on Brexit, and the Election.

The other day, on the pedestrianised bit of the High Street, an elderly, constipated gentleman whom I did not know dropped his trousers, and there, amidst the shoppers and the vape stores and the hordes of canvassing Evangelical Christians, he began to squat. With a grimace on his face and perspiration on his brow the … Continue reading All the Pretty Things are Going to Hell: Thoughts on Brexit, and the Election.

First, We Vote. Then We Get Drunk Until November – Notes on the General Election

It was always going to be a grim election campaign; that it became one punctuated by nauseating outbreaks of death-cult terrorism only added to the sense of freefall. Rolling news: eyewitness testimony and blue flashing lights, then it’s irony-addled oldies, bemoaning food bank existence and cuts in public services whilst proudly declaring an intention to … Continue reading First, We Vote. Then We Get Drunk Until November – Notes on the General Election

LGM’s Favourite Albums of 2016, #1 – ‘Varmints’ by Anna Meredith

From time-to-time I reluctantly emerge from my alcoholic stupor to pen ill-conceived diatribes for whatever remains of the music press. Sometimes they even give me cold, hard cash for the privilege – the suckers. This year, I wrote a long op-ed piece about Varmints by Anna Meredith. Followed by a live review, a lengthy interview … Continue reading LGM’s Favourite Albums of 2016, #1 – ‘Varmints’ by Anna Meredith