No life
The art of having no friends
Apparently it’s easy to make money on YouTube by teaching a course in your specialism. Mine is having no friends.…
Yoga is slow-motion pole-dancing for grannies
It’s hard work being rich. I gave up trying years ago. You must waste money on everything, even the basics,…
Nutrition is a bogus creed
Time to think about my diet. A test kit arrives from the NHS screening team who want to inspect a…
Death was easier when I was a kid
Somebody dies and his friends say ‘he passed’. Passed what? He didn’t pass. He failed. He took the most basic…
Will the Irish ever forgive the English?
Leaving home is the best way to find out who you are. In my case, it’s a muddle. Welsh dad.…
The naked truth about life modelling
When I left university, I prepared for a short spell of poverty while I sent off amusing and opinionated articles…
My brush with a rabid money
India A crowded bus station. A lady monkey with a baby clinging to its neck sidled past me, eyeing the banana…
The uncomfortable truth about boozing
‘Good for you. Amazing. I should do the same.’ ‘You must feel great. Lucky you.’ This is what I hear…
Confessions of a political gambler
What could be more exquisite than the life of the professional gambler? I began my career in 2016 with a…
How I lost my faith
God used to exist. He doesn’t any more, but back in the early 1970s he was a major presence in…
Being mugged changes you forever
Being mugged changes you forever. My encounter with highwaymen occurred three decades ago in a south London street, in the…
Next time, I’m swimming to Calais
Friends in Calais invited me to their baby’s birthday party. He’s a year old. They suggested an overnight stay and…
Admit it – Italian food is rubbish
Every year I’m summoned to a gathering which I strive to avoid. My first cousin, who loves a boozy party,…
My (surprisingly) decent proposal
‘Like being chained to a lunatic.’ That’s how a man feels in relation to his libido. And the lunatic latches…
The joy of browsing in a food bank
The old man next door asked me to collect his parcel from the food bank. ‘Sure,’ I said. I joined…
The new status symbol of the super rich: headlice
To help out friends, I sometimes collect a boy from his primary school near Sloane Square. This part of London…
