In this most sudden and crucial election it behoves a bloke or a bird to pick sides. The agonising on Social Media rises up to the heavens causing cherubs to fall off their clouds and the very gods themselves to…

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  What does it all MEAN, fa f-sake!   Mourning for Manchester Every blogger in the world is writing about Manchester. Rather than repeat all the horror we feel, the sense of desperation in the face of the senseless slaughter…

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Once upon a time a woman with a death sentence sat on a bench in Battersea Park. She was about 32, well padded without being fat, in her favourite top and jeans. The top was Spanish Gray from which a…

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When I was young and dumb, before AIDS was invented – or rather before we knew about it – I wrote this very stupid poem:   (To be recited in a posh Chelsea Sloane-Ranger voice)   “Eau! For a terminal…

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