The Diplomat

Once upon a time an Italian statesman by the name of Camillo Cavour sat down and thought: No, my beloved country won’t be freed from oppression by mass uprisings. The Austrian armies were too strong. Not many Italians were willing to take up arms anyway. They probably just wanted to put on their toques and make some lasagna.Read More »


Wait over Mass times Gravity

David Agondoa. The name stuck. I woke up one morning and it was there, sitting at the back of my head. David Agondoa. Who the hell was David Agondoa? And where had I come by that name? David Agondoa. The name kept ringing but I just couldn’t place him. David Agondoa.  Read More »

Made by Hand

This post has balls. A lot of balls.

Remember when I told you about my herpes infection, and that I had a festering wound on my lip, and that I was in so much pain that you should just wake me up when September ends? Well, I forgot to tell you about my balls.Read More »

Fun Fact no.17

Ever since I turned 22 on a hot day in July, I’ve always wanted to write about my life at 22, how it’s turning out thus far. You know, like the At 21 number last year but on steroids, with a bit more meat and extra spicing on top. So when I went back to read what I had written, my first thought was, Christ! I should be shot at the back of the head for writing that.Read More »

Two yesterdays

Yesterday 1: A herpes Tuesday

Right now, I’m very jealous of the guy up on that carpeted stage. He’s a bespectacled slim fellow with swift-looking feet. He’s holding the microphone with a bony hand and he’s dancing this way and that, supplying the small choir with some vocal power. Sometimes at the chorus he lifts up a finger and points upwards and bends his knees and busts a move that makes me smile a little with all its jolliness. Jesus! A boy can dance.

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