"What will I be when I grow up?"

Sorry for the crappy posts the last couple of days, my evil twin brother got hold of my not-so-secret, secret password and posted banality. I’ve had to kill him off, (pillow over the face , after a weekend bender: never fails) and am now part of the Clifton Hill Witness Protection Plan.

I’m disguised as a mid 30’s “London Media Type” who’s just relocated from Bedfordshire down to Brighton. My new “fake” wife (Geraldine) is a Graphic Designer who works from home, she also writes copy for an obscure American Band fanzine; we read the “Telegraph”, we’re extremely involved in local politics, and are concerned about the community, Green Issues and Resident Allocated Parking Spaces. OH. MY. FUCKING. CHRIST: Whoa there!, what just happened?.

I think I’m on the turn… turning into…..something……hideous……..must, reverse, the feelings of inertia and impending property price rises…..must, do, something pointless and expensive. Must escape inevitable black hole. Fight it, fight it, fight it!