Read those gems and more in another stunning article for FS.

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Mental health awareness and homosexuals

We do a lot, some ….. an amount, around gay men and sexual health awareness, sometimes I can’t help but think we’re dealing with a symptom rather than the cause. I want to see more done to make gay men be aware of their mental health and FS Magazine were kind enough to publish my words.

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What gays can teach straight people – written for Vice

Tracey Cox wrote a wonderfully condescending article for the Mail Online, so I responded with this article on Vice:

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Another play and Margaret Thather

I interviewed Margaret Thatcher, well a man that dresses as her which is pretty much the same right?

I also saw Bathhouse The Musical. It wasn’t 100% terrible (a massive amount of alcohol increased enjoyment ten fold.)

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I’m writing a kids book an actual book for children, with pictures.

My friend Jose is making it look pretty, follow its progress on his Instagram.

(I should really add an image to this shouldn’t I? But wouldn’t it be nicer to visit his pictures and click like a few times?)

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I saw some pretty excellent plays.

I got to see some excellent plays recently unfortunately two of the three have ended, so you cant see them, sucks to be you.*

Gods and Monster – willies and bleakness

It’s a bird … It’s a plane … It’s Superman – not terrible, very racist

Caravan and Pin – Excellent works in progress

*I’m so sorry, that was rude, I’m sure you’re an excellent person and it’s far better being you than me. Other plays will come along, better plays and you will see them and you can tell me all about them once the’ve been and gone. Give me a taste of my own medicine, it’s all I deserve.

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Things people who hate their job are fucking bored of hearing from you

Why don’t you apply for another job?

Why don’t you go fuck yourself?

My friend Keith swaps jobs every year and he’s doing well, you should talk to him.

Keith is a self-serving cunt. You’re using the word friend instead of the more accurate description of ‘he let me give him a blowjob once and although he’s an absolute wank stain I keep him around in the hopes that if I get him drunk enough he’ll let me do it again.’

Why don’t you do this? *insert link to wildly inappropriate job*

Although I appreciate that you’ve taken time, energy and effort to find a job you think I’d enjoy, the fact this job has nothing to do with my last 10 years work experience and has all to do with your dream job just confirms that you’re the whiny narcissist I always thought you were.

Rejection is just part of the process, you need to get a thicker skin.

No one will love you. Tell yourself that every day. Every time you take a step hear the chant ‘no one loves me.’ With each intake of air ‘no one will ever love me.’ When talking to a friend and they smile at you, they seem really happy to be in your company, they might ask you questions about your life, just remember how few fucks they actually give and how much they despise you.

You know, you’re lucky to be working.

You’re lucky that I’m not screaming into your face, cursing the very earth you walk on as I weep tears and blood at the thought of 8 hours at my prison desk.

Why don’t you take some time off to think about what you want to do?

Why don’t you pay me to do that then? Why don’t you, with your infinite funds from the bank of your fucking parents pay for me to sit down and have a fucking think.

Why don’t you quit this job and just temp for a bit then?

What an excellent idea, while I’m swapping one terrible soul crushing activity for another why don’t you, you with all your oh so clever ideas, why don’t you trade your shit smelling halitosis breath and trade it for a personality that’s bearable.

If you’re this upset with your job have you thought about interning somewhere more fun?

What a marvellous idea, how kind of you to give me this wisdom. I’ll just toodle off with my big bag of management, training and qualifications and trade that in for exactly zero pence and a shit eating grin. Please do carry on. Instead of living in a house paying rent should I sleep beneath bags from Tesco? Oh you think my time and money is being wasted on anything that brings me the remotest feeling of joy, should I just sit and play with the hand crafted organic wooden toys you’ve just bought for the precocious little shits you claim are children but the rest of existence would agree are the worst collection of cells and atoms to ever collect in one place?

You know, if you bought a house your mortgage would be less than rent and it would give you more job options.

You know, if I learned to live off of eating my own shit then that would be cheaper than buying food.

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A theatre review

I love theatre. I love that people can put time and effort into making something and occasionally what they make is terrible.

What I can’t abide is theatre that thinks it’s better than it’s audience and that’s what happened with A Series of Increasingly Impossible Acts.

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Sweet Dreams

You did it
You fucking did it again
That. Is. Hilarious.
It sounded so deep, so satisfying, almost luxurious.

I’m jealous.



That is really disgusting.
What did you eat? Are you dying?

You know the rules, outside of the sheets, outside of the bloody sheets

Bloody? Are you bleeding? You smell like you’re bleeding.
No I’m not an expert on the the smells of anal bleeding, but what every in Holy Hell you just created is a clear sign that things are just not right.

Yes I’m being serious.
Go check now.

Christ! Move quicker, you’re letting the heat out and the smell in.

When did you find time to eat all a farmyard?
No, I’m not calling you fat, it’s purely yet another reference to the obnoxious smell hovering in the air which is now waging all out war on my nostrils, taste buds and every pore of my body.

Is the smell in my hair? Do I need to shower?

Don’t slam the door.

Have you checked?
Is it ok?
Are you dying?

Just a little bit?

Can you wipe sitting down rather than standing, you leave flecks.
Yes, flecks.
Of course you don’t see them, I pick them up.

Are you ok?

Hurry back. I miss you.

I kept your side warm for you.
Can you rub my back?
Yes, that’s the spot.

Yes you’re winding me.

Shut up.
I got mine outside of the sheets.

I love you.


If you enjoyed this, why not read about a fight?

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No one loves the Wicked, except me and here’s why

I went to see Wicked and fell in love with it again, this is why you should too:

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