June 21st – July 22nd
Mercury is dying and you stand on the front step of your parents house. Nobody is quite sure what to say. Finally, your mother stirs.
“Sixteen years. Where you been?”
Continue readingIn The City There Is Never Enough Ham
I can’t remember when I stopped banging my head against a wall. Probably when I turned 6 or 7 and words finally dropped from my mouth like worms. We watched them, my parents and I, as they wriggled free on the carpet.
It took even longer to grow out the hole in my head.
Continue readingAll of Your Birthdays
I want to extend an offer.
A happy birthday to anyone celebrating their birthday in the current calendar year, along with any future calendar years*.
While the jury is still out on you as a person, life is full of things, and I’m inspired every day seeing you do those things, if you do them, which you may not. I mean, it’s up to you. Maybe you think the land of the living is colourless. I’m not gonna sit here and berate your choices – that’s for strangers on the internet to do!
Anyway, why throw away all of that stuff we’ve done or not done, that meant everything or nothing?
Happy birthday, person.
*This offer is valid up to – and including – the moment of complete brain death.
Reagan’s Coming
Or:
Collect Calls
of the Nicaraguan Dead
big thanks to my pal Kyle for drawing the above photo of Reagan. they didn’t have to. yeah, I made some threats, and yeah i clambered half dead from a novelty birthday cake on their behalf, but they didn’t have to. i’d have done those things anyway. Kyle is a rad illustrator, hates cops, makes comics, and is just about the finest musician I know. they currently play in the gorgeous All Cats Are Beautiful (ACAB) and previously played in He Was Eaten By Owls. they wants you to message them asking where the fuck Sunny Browne, their beautiful hand-drawn comic about a non-binary furry detective, is. thanks, Kyle!
They say that in the final years of his presidency, with a very particular form of despondent sadness enveloping him, Ronald Reagan spent his last days in the White House entering any room with a TV and masturbating to the point of climax onto the screen. Continue reading
YELLACAST 1: Everyone is Learning to Swim (except Marek)!
Welcome to the first episode of Yellacast, a series of audio vignettes built around a changing theme every couple of weeks. In the inaugural offering, we meet Deet and Marek; the first who hasn’t turned up to work for the last 25 years, and the latter, his boss, who won’t stop leaving messages on his former employee’s answerphone. Continue reading
Every Show Needs Its Host
February 19th – March 20th
Neptune casts a shadow; two hideous fish, pale in the dank light. You watch them first thing, thrashing about in the estuary of your eye. Are they fighting? They look like they’re fighting. Continue reading
A Ghost
It had been five years or six years, neither of them could remember which. Continue reading
Lincoln: No Safety In Numbers
In Lincoln, where I am currently staying, the roads are long and flat. It’s farming country, the kind of place where you will drive for an hour banked, on all sides, by herbivores and waving hands of wheat. Continue reading
Chris: Prince of the Bakers
Today when I placed my vote, I couldn’t help but think of an old college comrade taken much too soon. All the roads he would’ve travelled, and hopefully travels now in spirit. In every crook of every corner of the world, his easy laughter rings out. His look of constant surprise. His gentle nature, quizzical smile. I feel privileged to have ever called him a friend. I will sing his name as long as I breathe air.
Praise up, Doddy!
Bisque Boy 5000
March 20th – April 19th
It’s Sunday, your housemates have all gone to Church, and you would like to spend some time with your beautiful body, 40% of which you lost when you fell into a tank of kraken at the aquarium last year.
YELLA HOLES - 