Uncut, Unvarnished, Unshaven

I just got wet going to the post office. Which is the extent of my degenerate output today.

I want an iPad. Even dreamt of one: I was a Welsh outlaw and it was hunting me, going to bring me into the 21st-cent, lock me up in the prison of the Web’s mind, hang me from the Internet by my loose thread of knowledge.

You know how people (the really lonely ones) always ask what would you do with a million dollars? Well, I’d spend it.

I love tea. Love it in the morning, afternoon, and night. It’s better than a lover. Such stamina is unheard of in trysts. Unless it’s in movies or fiction.

I love this that Winterson writes: “What is the point of being human if you cannot live your own life in your way?” That’s a bloody good question and one I am out to answer. Every person should have this twittering around their brains rather than texting nonsense to each other.

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