Vinyl formation. Hot glue gun apotheosis. Interminable joy. A frustration in the eyes of the mad man.
What if a gift is shit? If the person who has bought the gift couldn’t give two rats arses about what the recipient derives enjoyment from or can make use of in their lives, then the gift will usually be utter crap.
Starfish explosions across the retina; a confusion of sounds, both unreal and real; blurred inputs and solid outputs meshed together.
Iceland: A land of wonder, story and song. Get yourself there, and don’t forget the hot dogs.
I used to work as a chef in a chain Italian restaurant. I took the whole chef thing very seriously, and was very snooty about the whole thing.
I love words; I love music; I love to cook. I also, kind of, like recipes where they are written as something to read, not purely as some kind of technical document. They’re entertaining, no?
I was wearing shorts and sandals, and a big sheet of plastic. I looked massively ridiculous and I did not care.