“Nowhere in the world will you find a statue of a critic, or the biography of a committee.”

David Puttnam, film director



 What happened to Mills and Boon?


You can guarantee one thing working as a freelance. When push comes to shove you’re out in the cold without so much as a blink of the eye. I have spent the last year working in mental health covering for a position which was finally filled last week. The boss calls me in and says he wants to be ‘fair’ and gives me two weeks notice. I’d hate to see him being unfair. May he end up in a secure unit with Michael Myers for company.


I joked with a friend before running the London Marathon last week that I didn’t mind where I  came as long as I wasn’t beaten by a banana. Foolish words. I passed someone dressed as a giant testicle at five miles running for a cancer charity, a beer bottle at ten miles and was out-sprinted by Super Mario Brothers in the home stretch. Oh, I forgot the old bloke running in a Mankini.


 Birmingham is synonymous with concrete but showed a beauty of its own on a recent bike ride back to London along the Grand Union Canal. If you fancy doing the trip in one day it takes around 15 hours. Expect a few punctures,a sore arse and some magic along the way. A good adventure.



 Public art card left in the Wellcome Centre


One of the responses on a public notice board asking people to name Britain’s greatest queen.


Leaving for the Front


Before I die I must find this rhyme.

Be quiet, my friends, and do not waste my time.


We’re marching off in company with death.

I only wish my girl would hold her breath.


There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m glad to leave.

Now mother’s crying too. There’s no reprieve.


And now look how the sun’s begun to set.

A nice mass-grave is all that I shall get.


Once more the good old sunset’s glowing red.

In thirteen day’s I’ll probably be dead.

August 17, 1914

(Alfred Lichtenstein was killed seven weeks later)

© 2011 gruntfarter.co.uk Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha