Get away with your Ghetto

A woman in Suffolk insisted that I must know Annie and Sylvia. ''Oh, you do know them surely? Yes, you must. You would! The lesbian couple.'
What if I asked her, 'Why? Do you automatically know all the people around that wear doggy-smelling tweed, past the sell-by date face powder and brogues that have bypassed sensible and hit anally retentive?'

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My Mate Jamie-Ray Hartshorne

I've been noticing that alongside photos of Jamie-Ray being a lead in Altar Boys , creating Change My Body UK TM , working the door at Freedom - and clearly asking people passing by wherever that rockpool may be to snap a double-bicep - this sort of thing is cropping up on his social media: We're in The Diner, Jamestown Road, Camden. He's between tour dates of The Bodyguard, and meetings to discuss sportswear and creatine endorsements. The latter, he says, being all about making his product better. Between sips of his peanut butter milkshake (he's allowing himself dairy today in my honour - I don't quite know how to take that) he says in his soft Brum, 'I've signed up for a major Muay Thai event in Thailand next February. I'm going up against one of the Thai fighters. That's the only real way to gain any respect in the fighting world. That's why you've been noticing the combat photos. I...

Psychic Readings

As it's Summer Solstice, let's revisit my mother's lodge for a seance. We know from a previous blog entry that lodge members are asked only to heal, and to have no truck with past lives and spirit guides. See: Previous blog featuring the lodge... On the QT they have seances, at which the medium tunes in to great mysteries of the past. Here are some of the readings. I've taken out anything that explicitly reveals the subject of the reading. Then we can play at guessing what it might be... 'There's something to do with a pile of tied up newspapers. Was there an evening paper delivery? They need to talk to the paper boy from back then as he saw something relevant but didn't understand at the time what it was he was seeing. There's also something to do with the plants by the front door. The leaves of one of them were too dark to have been real. Put there on purpose to deflect attention from ...

That Time I Tried to be Kind to a Narcissist - my Mother

At the station, Eirwen was standing beneath the Suffolk in Bloom prize-winner sign. She had shrunk again. I was waiting in the car. Gerard, picking up her suitcase (she gave him a Don’t expect a tip look) congratulated her on the win. She frowned. He pointed upward at the sign. She saw and said, ‘Oh, are we thinking that’s funny?’ Walking to the car Gerard asked what he should call her? ‘Mrs Edwards. Or Ms Silcox, my maiden name.’ I said, ‘And you can call him, The Right Honourable Gerard Crastley.’ Passing Eirwen’s case behind me, Gerard said, ‘Thank God one day Lord will at least be shorter.’ He didn’t see Eirwen’s disgusted look. She waited for him to turn round so he could. ‘Have you got anything special planned, or just seeing your special son,' he asked, driving onto the High Street. ‘I don’t know what there is to be done here at all.’ ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘I told you.’ To try and make her refuse to come. ‘Very quiet.’ I had invited her to stay ...

Iestyn Edwards is...what?

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