interruption, number 1 of 6





I know what you're thinking. Where's today's photo? Jmarls80 left a comment yesterday asking me if that had been my photo attached to the post ... which it was. I think (although I cant be bothered looking) that all the photos on the blog are mine, I'm sure would have said if they weren't (oh, obviously not the Cindy Sherman photo way back at the start) . Where was I going with this? I'm drinking tea right now, which is useless. It makes me drowsy and forgetful .

The shark! That's right. No photo, just a shark. The shark was drawn by Allie at Hyperbole and a Half, a blog which must be viewed. I love it. There is something ... well, it's just brilliantly fucking nuts. Its either a work of artistic insanity or just genius. I cant decide. 

Also, ages ago ... this has no relevance to anything else I was saying by the way ... I decided to switch to Wordpress instead of Blogger, because, if you believe everything that seems to be written all over the place, Wordpress is a "grown up" "real" "professional" blogging system for "real" "professional" "grown up" people ... but I am here to tell you that it's not. It's terrible. It's the most ridiculous thing I have ever come across and seriously, if you are one of these people who think, "gee, I wish I had chosen Wordpress in the first place" then don't bother. It's awful. Choose any other blogging platform BUT wordpress.

What else ... 

*   *   *

Spurious lightning ...




It was Norf who developed and tuned that phrase. He said it often enough. One day he announced that it was his phrase, only to be used to describe those certain moments. 

We lay in a haze for what could have been days. 

I concluded that it couldn't be a phrase because it wasn't long enough. He assured me it was. There was no point in arguing and there was no desire to begin arguing because the bliss had yet to dim, the numbness was still a few hours off.

Those two words come back to me a lot though. I never did fully understand what he meant at the time - nothing we said meant much - but now I think that his phrase was perhaps a signal he was planting in my consciousness, a signal which would awake in my mind when I least expected it, to remind me of those days, to try to direct me back again.



I can't get it together




I cant get it together i cant get it together i cant get it together i cant get it together i cant get it together i cant get it together i cant get it together ic ant get it together i cant get it together ic ant eir it together i cant get it together i cant get it together i cant get it together i cant get it together ic ant get it togerthter i cant get it together ic ant get it gotgether i cant get it together i cant get it together i cant get it toger why i gcat get it togeterht i cant ger it together i cant get it together i cant get it together i cant gwt it together i cant get it together ic ant goet it togvdne




To explain why Hutch makes me want to leave my own apartment °8





° What's that? Its circular.

* It's goat's cheese

° Can I taste?

* Sure.

° Christ almighty Jonas, how can you eat this shit?

* I can't. I hate it. It's E's.

° How can she eat it?

* Well, she's foreign to us for a start. That means she can do loads of stuff we can't. Especially here in Paris.

° But ... Rachel is foreign to us as well, and she eats what I eat.

* Yes but she's foreign in a different way Ken. They're more like us. Can you get out of my refrigerator now please.

° Hang on. What's this?

* That's cheese as well.

° Christ Jonas, how many differ ... wait! Is this cheese too?

* Yep.

° Oh I'm not sure I can cope with all this, J. What's wrong with these people? I don't think I can deal with life abroad Jonas. This isn't going nearly as well as I'd foreseen. Never mind the cheese, have you seen how many people smoke? And I still can't find anywhere that sells cigarettes ... and people ask you for cigarettes on the street! People with cigarettes, while I have none. They actually ask me for cigarettes. J? Jonas? Where are you going? Come back!  

Zap that can



This was meant to be a photograph of my Zap Book, but the battery is dead in my camera, and its kinda late so the photo is random. Not that that's unusual, yeah? The one below was scavenged from the internet, which in fact marks a first for this blog. mHmm.


My Zap Book contains notes I have been scribbling down every now and then for the last couple of years. Its cover is yellow and black (such contrasting colors ... as soon as I saw it in the shop I could do nothing but buy the damn thing) Well, its full now, soft and crammed with weirdness, and so I am on the lookout for a notebook with the word Zoom on the cover.

This is the first thing I ever wrote in that Zap Book. I was flying from Paris to NYC at the time and it was the first time I decided to blend fiction and fact. This piece is the beginning of the novel I am working on .... right .... now!!

If you are here every so often you may remember this. Well, I finally took my own advice. It feels tremendous.

Ok, thats it .... Be nice now, y'hear????

No explanation °17





I placed three bottles outside of my window four weeks ago. Two of them are now quarter full of rainwater and melted snowflakes, the other is empty. I haven't touched them. I am on the third floor and you can't reach my window ledge from anywhere outside. Weird yeah? It's unlikely, but not entirely impossible, that chance is at play here. Imagine that. My friends think I am trying to fuck with them, and have suggested I start going outside again. I'll think about it.

Insert (inspiring town) name here





I could sum up my own side of the story with this one sentence: It begins one afternoon when I kill a cat and discover a Rose and then twists and turns its way around the unlikely and the impossible before ending tragically as I drown beneath the waters of the river which flows next to my hometown, (insert inspiring town name here). Telling the story may take a little longer.











This post is an explanation for the lack of recent posting.




I am trying to avoid sitting down right now, which isn't as easy as you might think. Oh and there is nothing wrong with my ass either, before you ask (or assume) its just that I have fucked my back ... I mean, what next? Thanks to life's general brilliance I was riding the crest of a wave so to speak and then a week ago I slid off my sofa to change the DVD (a Curb afternoon) and BLAM! something happened to my back. I say something, because - and I guess there are plenty of you who at one time or another have experienced this - it's completely indescribable. So I gave it a day or two and then went to the Doc's and tried to explain the unexplainable in a language I haven't quite mastered yet, never mind learning vocabulary about unexplainable bodily happenings. The Doc gave me a ton of drugs, which I was hoping to avoid, and sent me to an osteopath, who broke me into pieces and then stuck me back together again using powers that only osteopaths have. 

Yeah, well it's all good now, unless I decide to sit down. Which is where we came in, I believe.

This post was apparently an explanation for the lack of recent posting, but on reflection it was only a gap of three days so .... well, thats prescription drugs for you.

Zap that van.




This photo sums it all up perfectly. 

I am in full-on rewrite mode just now, which means my coffee intake is off the scale, my swearing has hit Malcolm Tucker levels and my eyes look like partially sucked M&Ms. 

Rewriting is a funny business as I am sure some of you know. I can never imagine how I will get it done, but it never ceases to amaze me, after a few hours at it, how awful the original actually was. Quite terrifying really.

Ok, its valentines day, right? And we all know what that means ...

I better be quiet now.








I have found myself in a situation, which, if someone had told me was happening to them I would have given them some very precise advice which I myself am unable to follow. For someone who is pretty much always loaded with spectacularly graphic advice this has come as a terribly depressing surprise.

Anyway, as a result of all that my swearing has gone over the top today, way into the nineties. That's almost off the chart, but not quite. Later, E bought me a ton of things I love to eat, and soon I had stopped swearing and begun to enjoy (biscuits) life again.

Tomorrow is Thursday though. I was born on a Thursday, so technically it's my birthday tomorrow, which should mean more biscuits and maybe poulet roti for lunch.