You never really know someone until you have lived with them.

After that you are the prime suspect.

Things that I am getting rather too good at

1. Falling off my bike.

In respect of the event of my death, I was reminded by a friend of another variation I had once suggested: being preserved (fully clothed, for modesty) in formaldehyde in a glass case set into the pavement. Some sort of street art. I was assured that in this day and age, as in the past, this was sick and would offend people. Still, I think that the option should at least be noted.

Anti War Posters

At the weekend, I saw people selling T-Shirts that said:

Make Capitalism History

Having lived in Sheffield for a few years, all my limbs have now been replaced with knives and forks. No spoons. Yet.

All this plays havoc with airport security, but is worth it, for a stainless body can only lead to inceased purity of mind.

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