Not Rubbish.

So this will be all sorts. Extracts from old pieces. Thoughts. Opinions. Biscuit reviews. Apologies. All sorts. And the whole time I'll be fighting not to rhyme all sorts with a line about how I miss AllSports. Damn it.

Here's a small extract from my 2011 feature length piece OLD ME.

When we were nine we used to make up kung-fu dance routines in the back garden to impress the girl next door but one. Sam. I don’t remember her surname. She was about 4 or 5 years older than us and obviously gorgeous. We’d make a den out of an old terry towelling sheet, get inside, strip down to our pants and plan our moves. 

The buzz before we jumped out to perform.

What moves are you gonna do?

I dunno. what moves are you gonna do?

I dunno. Don’t copy me.

I’m not gonna copy you. What are you gonna do?

i dunno. Just do anything. but make it good.

How old is she?

14 I think.


I know, that’s why we’ve gotta be cool.

What if she laughs?

She won’t laugh. Why would she laugh?

What if she does? Why do we have to be in just our pants?

Shut up. Look if she laughs we tell her to eat shit and mud bomb her house later, yeah?


Right, come on

I’m cold.

Me too, but we’re doing it 

Are they my hulk pants?


You’re wearing my hulk pants.

I’m not. 

you can’t wear my pants

Look are we going? she’s waiting

i want em back

Forget the hulk pants. I just wanted to wear good ones.

now I look boring. I could’ve worn the spiderman ones.

it doesn’t matter. just impress her with your moves.

i haven’t got any moves.

Don’t worry, just copy me.