I’ve never been one for resolutions, new year or otherwise. Much like anything left on the shelf I resolved to put up last year, they’ll gradually slide until falling down the back of the sofa never to be seen again. And besides, I like to keep an element of surprise in our relationship so to brief Janet on her impending disappointments would only be counter-productive.… read the full post.
It may seem a little premature to be writing a review of 2016, but I’m not sure what my internet signal will be like if I need to bunker down with a four-year supply of tinned sardines and a wind-up torch. If Vodafone’s coverage in my kitchen is anything to go by, it’s not looking good.
If 1992 was an annus horribilis, this last twelve months must surely qualify as an annus whatthefuckisthis.… read the full post.
Do you remember when this blog used to be about the kids? Nope, me neither.
I should probably just change its name from The Tales of Sonny and Luca to The Miserable Mutterings of a Middle-aged Man and be done with it. Although to be fair, if they want to play a larger part in the blog they could try taking their faces out of a screen once in a while and communicating.… read the full post.
Strange things are afoot. Tales are emerging of a grim creature intent on frightening children and adults alike. So terrifying it would give a killer clown the willies.
Rumour has it he’s the result of an experiment that went horribly wrong. An ambiguous mix of chemistry and alchemy. One part stay-at-home dad, many parts don’t-make-me-get-a-job.
Some think it the stuff of urban legend.… read the full post.
I’ve started running. I’d like to say it’s part of a wider health kick or due to a sudden epiphany about my own mortality, but I’d be lying.
Truth is, a couple of weeks ago I lost a race with Luca. Not a proper race, mind. There was no starting gun, agreed finish line or post race drug test.
And if this sounds like I’m making excuses, I’ve barely even started.… read the full post.