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Monthly Archive for August, 2014

I used the Authors’ Toilet at the Edinburgh International Book Festival. Once upon a time this would have been an act of mischief, a low level dare. On this occasion I was not just allowed but encouraged to do so by a nice person with a walkie talkie. Nonetheless it still felt naughty and fantastic […]

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This hideous ride.

  A needle to the waist punctures the girl’s bravado.   “Holy shit,” she gasps as the gun rattles to life, and I’m glad I opted for the upper arm rather than the lower abdomen. Trevor said it would be more comfortable for a first-timer like me and the look on the girl’s face tells […]

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