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Monthly Archives: June 2014


When my fiancée went out to her hen-do (the first one) I stayed at home, watched some rugby, wrote a poem, and did the dishes.

To the agony aunt at The Lancet

Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does my chestbone crack?!

Fragment (after Sappho)

no more for me the honey or the bee (i.e. thee)

A short story

I am currently in possession of two secrets: . . . …

b&w joke

An Irish priest, a Jewish doctor and a Hungarian photographer are on the beach. [click] Omaha Beach.