Monday, March 02, 2015


Structurally perfect artist's model in Duplo of some big, dumb building that they built in Dubai for some reason.
It's difficult to like a month who's name seems like some kind of barked order, "March! You shower of ugly people!" Images of hunger, totalitarian and death are conjured by the very name, a totally shameless month that hosts the greatest time-crime of the year. The cruel and ritualised ritual known as changing the fecking clocks by putting them forward thereby depriving innocent people of both time and sleep. Then there's route marches, forced marches, drill marches, riding the marches, goose-stepping marches, protest marches, shrimp fricassee and shrimp gumbo. I was so annoyed at the time of writing this and then swallowing it inside my own imagination that I completely overslept and now it's the second day of this manic month and I'm no further forward. It's certainly true (but hard to prove) that there is much that we modern Britons have to thank the Romans for.

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