Afternoon.

There’s a bit of a write-up and interview with me about comics and what-not over on downthetubes.net. Grateful thanks to John Freeman.

Further to the info in the article linked above, my malformed short story collection Get It Down and Other Weird Stories will be released at some point in October.

Went to the Roger Waters show last Wednesday, a great gig.

And to the Manic Street Preachers gig last Friday, which was even greaterer.

(Not my video)

Brilliant show.

Writing projects soldier on, some with trench-foot and the odd missing limb. Wheels are still turning. Gears are still spinning efficiently and shedding teeth in equal measure. So much stuff either half-finished or half-outlined that it’s not remotely funny.

A pint. Yes. That’ll make it better.

A few months ago myself and my brother Gerry went to a pretty brilliant Manic Street Preachers gig in the Olympia. Afterwards we headed up the road to The Turks Head for a few more pints but the soulless grating drone of an abysmal reggae covers band forced us out early and so, after a kebab, we hopped in a taxi to go home.

Before I’d even got my seat belt on the taxi driver piped up with, “Here lads, I had that Rosanna Davison one in the car there on Monday.”

“Oh yeah?” we said.

“Yeah! Ah Jesus, you should see her lads! She’s beautiful . . . the long blonde hair, gorgeous eyes, lovely smile! Ah she’s lovely, totally lovely. But I’ll tell you, she has the arse of an eleven year old boy.”

It was hard to know how to respond to such a statement. I chose the awkward silence option.

Sometimes it is strange, the things that you hear in taxis.