Mind Poo

Don’t be a dick

I’ve always found the notion of an intelligent creator spurious. Even as an ankle biter my cynicism was pretty scornful. In primary school I’d sit in assembly in utter befuddlement as to why we were supposed to pretend a bunch of archaic folktales were true. Why were these … read more

A simple explanation of the affects of stigma around mental illness.

    This is my partner’s dog Arbie, at first glance he looks pretty intimidating, right? Especially as he looks poised to eat a human foot. Photos however can be misleading, he’s more of a licker than a biter. Like me, Arbie has pretty full on mental health … read more

Sonny Wortzik calls his gak dealer

A couple of weeks ago I was stuck in bed with flu so I made this thing about Sonny Wortzik calling his cocaine dealer.  I have no idea why.

Reach for the sky if you wanna get high etc… A true story from 1990

It’s exotic. It’s glamorous. It’s Charnock Richard Service Station on a Friday night. Imagine Mardi Gras as conceived by a Burnly teenager called Gurner Kev. More Vauxhall Nova than bosa nova. I’m fifteen, nodding my head as a Teutonic beat rides plumes of sickly herbal smoke into the … read more

Citroen DS

The bonnet is a shield protecting you from the modern sickness; its lines are the supreme creation of an era. The headlights are the meticulous eyes of the first robot looking into the future from the past. The exhaust is a sardonic goodbye.  The boot is the old … read more


And the earth split,   like a nest of spider eggs.   And the cheers scuttled out, as sincere as a photocopied laugh.   Then with a viscose grunt   Wot was hocked and snotted,   from the safe black of nothing,   into the bleaching light.   … read more

Goodnight Irene.

Remember I said I’d found an old laptop with tones of old bits of writing on it?  Here’s some more:   Goodnight Irene   Liz studies him; he’d do, for tonight at least. It’s not like her to know her limits, but her flat pint is as full … read more

The past, Now!

I found an old laptop full of spoken word recordings from the noughties. I thought I’d post some here. This is a rant about well intentioned yet ultimately negative stereotyping from 2009. I was living in St Pauls in Bristol at the time.  

#GIMP 7 Make Something Ugly Before You Kill

shocked baby

I stopped drinking and as a consequence sleeping about a moth ago, so here’s some anti meridian misanthropy all up in your lobes.

#GIMP 6, As if BT aren’t a beige robot with septic teeth.

shocked baby

As if life isn’t already a Maned Sloth at a rural bus stop, staring desolate through the moorland sleet. With our trumpet faced, sucrose yodellers, and our Zyrconium conversations, spat like ego-plated bullets in antiseptic fields, smiles and soil as fake as Santa’s cocaine promises. As if it … read more

#GIMP 5 Mama, we’re all crazy now.

shocked baby

Look at you, all depressed. Is it any wonder? When I was a kid I read a story about someone plucking the stars from the sky. I believed it. I believed it because children are thick and adults lie to them. I’d poke my pudgy, innocent little arm … read more