Tag Archives: metal

Applause

I live opposite a pub – which would be great if, a) I was deaf, b) I could afford to drink, and c) it wasn’t full of morons. Unfortunately, none of these things are true, so instead of going there I usually content myself to lie in bed in the small hours of the morning, listening to the drunken patrons screaming at each other like taxi-seeking monkeys, entertaining me with loud stories of the time they flung their favourite poo at a fellow monkey before trying to get it into a threesome with a genetically not-dissimilar kebab.

But Miss-Matic and I had a guest to stay the other day, so we scoured the back of the sofa for enough loose-change to show him the sights and sounds of our small town, starting by going across the road for a drink.

Upon arriving in the pub, pre-lubricated with wine and beer and the smell of a suspicious vodka that I didn’t allow closer than arm’s length, we discovered that a band was playing to a bunch of locals and their mothers. A girl with reddy-pink or pinky-red hair was screaming into a microphone. I couldn’t really discern what she was singing, but she sounded rather angry.

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Self ePublishing

It’s time.

I started writing about 12 years ago – which translates to approximately 1.5 years of writing, and 10.5 of furious and intense procrastination, masturbation and staring out of windows, waiting for fiction to assemble itself on the screen before me, and playing tower defence flash games when it did not.

In this time I’ve manage to squeeze from my creative sphincter four full, and two half novels; a smattering of short stories, and two depressing poems. Two of these novels were sent off to the Club of Literary Agents, where they got drunk, and nobody asked them to dance, and they came back home at the end of the evening and had a wank and cried themselves to sleep. The others just got stuck having pre-club drinks at the Need-Another-Redraft bar.

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Ash-Matic Does Likes and Dislikes

I don’t like things.

I’m a grumpy person, and so, I like not liking things. I get a sense of familiar reassurance when there is something I don’t like, a sense that everything is right with the world – that I can clearly distinguish between good things – which are likeable – and all the other shit on the buffet of life.

Conversely, there are some things that I do like.

And, as a grumpy person, I don’t like this fact.

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