Look at this fucking hipster… oh… wait…

Look at my fucking little brother: Incidentally, that thing in the background? That is a bear-in-Santa-hat clock. It belonged to me when I was 9. And never ceased to amuse the person featured in this picture: Of course, I should in turn make fun of Solomia for wearing a bunch of leaves and stuff onContinue reading “Look at this fucking hipster… oh… wait…”

Monday Music: the gospel of Ebba Grön edition

It’s a post-Gogolfest Monday, and I’m wrung out. My body is sore from dancing, brain sore from stimulation, throat sore for screaming songs outside. I do, however, have a new love, and this would be the old Swedish punk band Ebba Grön. I found out about them when talking to a friend about all greatContinue reading “Monday Music: the gospel of Ebba Grön edition”

Monday Music: the thick cider and bad anniversaries edition

OK, I don’t actually have any cider on me at the moment, but I used to drink it, and I am imagining drinking it right now. With the too-little fireplace cracking and my old dog, Zara, wagging her tail hard enough to send the glasses straight off the coffee table and onto the light-coloured rug.Continue reading “Monday Music: the thick cider and bad anniversaries edition”

“Mirrorball” by Mary Gaitskill

Is a damn fine short story. That’s all for now. The weather has broken, the cold has started in earnest. Am doing lots of manual labour around the house, and an obscene amount of writing. Blockages gone, like the warmth that has reigned over Kiev for the last few weeks. I’d be happy about it,Continue reading ““Mirrorball” by Mary Gaitskill”