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August 2008

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Squallyoaks, the Album

August 27, 2008

“The best music ever!” – some drunk guy in the off-licence near our house. “I’m not sure I understand it, put I’m proud of you.”- My mom “No comment.” – The Guardian My house, Squallyoaks, has made an album of music. It’s really good. The album in a collection of 12 “songs,” all of which were recorded in our house when we were wasted. The launch party in tomorrow night at Catch in Shoreditch. It’s free entry and we will…

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The Alchemist

August 18, 2008

Photo by Matthew Stone I’ve spend the past twenty-four hours locked in my bedroom immersed in Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist, trying to read myself into a better person. The decision came after I realized I couldn’t remember the last time I read a book that wasn’t authored by someone even more profoundly cynical than myself. This is just one of the many steps I’m taking in journey toward mental health. “You should read The Secret,” my mother suggested during a…

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I Smell Dead People

August 4, 2008

I’m in Chelsea and Westminster Hospital and I can smell dead people. The foul stench of rotting flesh and fecal matter is crawling its way up through my nasal cavity and into my medulla oblongata, causing my heart to beat worryingly fast. Or is it slow? I guess that’s the NHS for you. Jesus, I know they’re cheap but surely they could splurge on an air freshener. It’s times like this I wish I didn’t have such an acute sense…

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