Sometimes, when I'm in the shower, I pretend that I'm in a shower gel advertisement.

This means that I pretend I have an amazingly strong power shower, even though I don't.

It also means that I pretend I have no genitals, even though I do.


Today's post has been cancelled: nothing whatsoever has happened.

I am very sorry, but that's just how life is sometimes.


I watch the colours and shapes form inside my lava lamp and find it relaxing, even though I know it isn't really lava.

I find it very assuring that I can readily accept such outright deceit.

I think about how inconvenient it would be if I were watching real lava in my living-room.


I have slept in the back room of my house for 10 years. On Monday, I decided to move into the front room of my house.

Despite it being closer to the street - I do not regret my decision one bit.


While traveling on public transport, I look up and catch the brief smile of recognition from someone who is reading the same book as me.

I smile back.

If I were Italian or French or Spanish or American or almost any other nationality, I would probably take the opportunity to engage in a long literary discussion about the book, we would discover how similar our minds were, we would go for coffee and then an inevitably brief but torrid affair would follow.

I am British. I say nothing and return to my book.


I've been humming an irritating song all day. It is driving me mad. I am at my wits end.

I remember a friend telling me that the only way you can get rid of an irritating song in your head is by singing Karma Chameleon by Culture Club.

I decide to give it a go.

Halfway through the second verse I suddenly realize it is the same song.


I go to a posh(er) wine shop, because it's nearby and they have special offers.

I am browsing the wines when the assistant asks if he can help in any way.

"What kind of meal are you planning to serve it with?"

"Meal?" I answer, with reddened eyes.


My girlfriend really loved me.

She said I was the 'bestest boyfriend ever'.

Life was perfect.

Then one day I came home to find her love had turned to fury and she had changed beyond all recognition.


I enjoy using the new self-service checkout at the supermarket.

I find it quite exciting, because I hope I might forget to put a couple of items through the scanner and end up charging myself less.

But I never do.


It is the day on which I call my mother.

I called my mother. She talked. I listened.

I finished the conversation by claiming there was somewhere that I had to be.

That was a lie.

Same time next week, then.


The phone rang.

I ignored it.

[I am trying to develop an elusive persona]


I have just done the washing-up.

But I had no washing-up liquid left, so I had to scrub my pots and pans vigorously with a Brillo pad.

I felt a small sense of achievement at the end.


Sometimes I like to sit on my Ikea sofa and just think about things.

[I am doing it now]


We chatted for a while.

I asked, 'Would you like to go for a coffee?'

She replied, 'No thank you'.

Our conversation petered out and we went our separate ways.