F is for Feet… Ah feet. Unjustly reviled as icky, nasty, gross and only good for allowing the owner of a pair to wear foxy shoes. “but feet are all gross and smelly” I hear you cry. Well, just for … Continue reading
B is for Breasts… Boobs. Boobies. Bazookas. Bristols. Baps. Breasticles. Bags of fun (and that was without the use of a Roget’s Profanisaurus, which undoubtedly has several more, if you’re so inclined). Lots of B words for ’em, lots of … Continue reading
Hi, Dudes. And Dudesses. Or Dudettas. Or, if you like, Dudes as well. We’re easy here. None of that formal grammar shit is gonna get us down, man. The surfing poetry Professor, Doctor Pockless sticks with the true blue taste … Continue reading
It’s not what you do, it’s the way that you do it. -Funboy Three, feat. Bananarama. A great message and maxim for our time. Run the marathon. And regardless of effort, dedication and your personal sacrifice and immense achievement, you’re … Continue reading
Kate is hardcore. She has cast off the bounds of the conventional Uborka collaboration. We did kind of agree that as she produced the sparkling gem that is the Sandbox Series, that I would come up with child-like analysis of … Continue reading
May 21 Age 8 I can put my hands all the way round my waist. Coooooool.
June 10 Age 7 My sister and brother are assholes.
Somewhere in my childhood self, an effusive diarist lurked. I’m certain of it. Had I mastery enough of my little hands to wield skinny sticks with lead or ink inside, my early years would be in paperback by now. No, … Continue reading