new adventures in babysitting

They talk about cycling. They talk about swimming. They talk about baking.

Hot tub invitations are rarely proffered. But you know me. Where there is breeze, I’ll shoot it. Where there is fat, I’ll chew it. Read the rest of this article here.

What’s the dealio, yo?

A while back, I made a kinda ham-fisted joke here about hipster babies. (The joke, I suppose, was that the very notion of hipster babies seemed just inherently silly and ridiculous to me.) Well, let’s just say, I hadn’t gone shopping for baby clothes in American Apparel at that point… Read the rest of this entry »

New adventures in babysitting (contd.)

Evolution has contrived to make the sound of a crying baby one of the most unpleasant in nature. The more piercing the child’s shrieking, the harder it is to ignore. The harder to ignore, the more attention is lavished upon the child and, hence, the greater chance it has of surviving into adulthood. In a small apartment, it’s like having a car alarm going off in the living room for hours at a time. Read the rest of this entry »

If straight men and gay women have one thing in common, I think, it’s that we both detest shopping…

Well, no. If straight men and gay women have one thing is common… it’s something else entirely. But if we have a second thing in common, its that we both detest shopping. Read the rest of this article here.

NEW ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING (CONTD.)

I’m think Lola might be turning into one of those hipster babies you read about. Seriously. The vintage baby-grows were the first hint. Also I’ve been trying to get into Animal Collective for about eight years now to no avail. She hears them on my iPod for ten seconds and she’s nodding along and playing air sampler or whatever. Now she’s enrolled in a crèche right next door to, well, I’m not going to say which bar. But if she starts hanging out with Maser, that’s the last straw. Read the rest of this entry »

NEW ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING (CONTD.)

Okay, you’ve never witnessed another person defecate up close and you don’t want to hear about it either? That’s understandable. I can respect that. But I will say this: Play-Doh Fun Factory. Ha ha. Ruined your lunchtime, did I? Oh, I’m sorry… Welcome to my world motherfuckers. Read the rest of this entry »

NEW ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING #3

Christ, is there anything as soul destroying as a child’s incessant crying? I don’t know how many hours it lasted. Two and a half, maybe three. Later, I dug out this track released (as I recall) the week the September 11th attacks. But from the very first line, I knew it didn’t quite fit. Read the rest of this entry »

NEW ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING (CONTD.)

I’ve been minding my niece Lola the last few mornings. When I volunteered to do this, before she was born, I envisaged a small child sleeping contentedly in a cot, or playing with a toy, while I worked away quietly at my desk. It would be fair to say that I knew fuck all about babies at that point.

I’m a little wiser now. Read the rest of this entry »

Published: Evening Herald, March 2010

T.P. Smiths

T.P. Smiths on Saturday is where you end up when you thought you wanted to shop, but it turned out all you wanted was a pint of beer and a chicken fajita. It’s airy and comfortable and there’s football on the telly. Sure where else would you be?

If straight men and gay women have one thing in common, I think, it’s that we both detest shopping. (Well, no. If straight men and gay women have one thing is common, it’s something else entirely. But if we have a second thing in common…) Read the rest of this entry »