For safety’s sake I usually stay in on New Year’s Eve. It makes no difference. There was the year when a drunk phoned me up in my bedsit in Oxford to accuse me of being in bed with his wife; I was on the bed alone with my guitar. There was New Year’s Eve 1999 […]
Read MoreSorry it’s been quiet here. I’ve been busy and ill (again). There’s always The Brighton Argus to cheer me up though. And its front cover story today is about a “masked raider” being identified by his distinctive smell.
Read MoreGo away. I have a cold.
Read More“Rebound congestion”: it’s another of those bland bits of medical jargon, like “cerebral contusion”, that give no hint of the actual discomfort accompanying their referents. “Rebound congestion”—roll it around your mouth and then imagine waking up from a nightmare of smothering only to find that you really are suffocating and that your last sight on […]
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