tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71398550651060450372024-03-05T21:03:08.127+00:00Hypothetical BirdsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15698087250460513300noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7139855065106045037.post-53329903909786549922016-08-02T12:12:00.001+01:002016-08-02T12:12:57.135+01:00Miss Jean Louis: Queen, Advisor, Orca Jockey Extraordinaire
It is once again the time of year when the world gets measurably weirder, courtesy of Gishwhes. Many will be aware of the Hunt's grand master, Misha Collins, but what of the elusive Queen of Gishwhes, Miss Jean Louis?
Born 28th July 1887, in a hut in Khor Angar, she was brought into the world kicking and screaming and claims, "and that is how I shall leave." At an early age found her dreamsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15698087250460513300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7139855065106045037.post-59372577782582546722016-01-25T16:29:00.001+00:002016-01-25T16:32:47.248+00:00Some General AdviceAs I will shortly be heading off on an adventure, I've been looking back through the journal I kept while interrailing with two friends almost five years ago. I found this list on one of the front pages.
Always take gaffa tape. Not matter how your friends scoff, they’ll end up using it.
Don’t worry about getting a penknife through security. As long as your friend has cutlery, they won’t notice Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7139855065106045037.post-495663289372220132014-08-13T18:10:00.000+01:002014-08-13T18:10:56.857+01:00Dear RobinDear Robin,
Well, here we are. I'm sat in an Edinburgh cafe and you're ... well.
Front pages and well-meaning features scream about the tragedy. Your gentle face smiles out from behind the headlines and heavy heads nod and say it's such a shame.
Besides the fact itself, it's this that I find most upsetting. I don't want to remember you like this, as this week's poster boy for mental health Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7139855065106045037.post-73400076537514703732013-11-25T08:30:00.001+00:002013-11-25T08:30:12.831+00:00MorningI'm currently on the way to visit my grandfather. I was woken at about half past five this morning by my housemate being violently ill, so I decided to escape to London a few hours earlier than I had planned. Here are three Haiku charting the journey...
***
Blue sky tousled grey
Where planes leave forgotten streams
Red across the sky
One breakfast tea please
Unaware of how asleep
Until speech Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7139855065106045037.post-24784489389005733452013-11-18T01:07:00.001+00:002013-11-18T01:08:26.673+00:00A Poem from Jamie's TurretI had a slightly surreal day today. Having skulked about for most of it, I escaped my housemates and headed for my old university halls of residence. Three of my friends, still studying, currently reside there, and late evening found me in one of their rooms, scribbling poetry for The Underground Clown Club's upcoming show. In amongst those, I found half a page to scribble this little ode to my Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7139855065106045037.post-27490836773337772182012-08-30T14:04:00.003+01:002012-08-30T14:04:50.130+01:00How They Do ItHello folks! I'm just back from Greenbelt Festival, having spent a week there volunteering and enjoying myself! I was part of the Site Vibing team, which helps to make Cheltenham Racecourse, where the festival is held) look less like a racecourse and more like a festival! The festival itself runs from Friday to Monday, and I helped set up from the Monday before the festival, and also helped with Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7139855065106045037.post-23664002130445463912012-01-31T22:57:00.000+00:002012-01-31T22:57:37.638+00:00The Underground Clown ClubEvening all.
I'm back at uni, and by golly have things been moving fast!
I'll start at the very beginning.
In late 2010, myself and a friend of mine, Andy, went to see a play called Lorca Is Dead, by the rather excellent Belt Up Theatre. It was inspiring.
In early 2011, we went to see another play by Belt Up, The Boy James. This time, we started writing.
By the summer of 2011 we had a (near Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7139855065106045037.post-84990834755735990662009-03-20T18:11:00.007+00:002013-04-16T00:36:59.047+01:00I Like HomophonesA little scribble that I wrote in English (with the help of Tasha and the hindrance of Henry).
The bare bear and his boy looked to see whether the weather was fine.
"Look son, sun!" said the bear to his boy
"To be sure!" said the boy as they walked on the shore.
"Do you see," said the bear "the sea and the quays?"
"That's the key" said his son as they strolled in the sun.
"And the seals and Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1