Category: Life

From now on, every single month, I am going to pick one subscriber at random and just give them five hundred quid. Proper English money.

I grew up twenty-five miles away and it might as well be another country. Basildon doesn’t do this. Basildon does quiet Sundays and the sound of a kettle and my mum shouting up the stairs.

Then she asked about sleep. I told her the truth because lying to a therapist feels like extra work and I’m already knackered. Four hours if I’m lucky. Sometimes two. The 3 a.m.

I can call someone “babes” and tell them their take is bare problematic in the same sentence. It’s an Essex thing. People never know whether to hug me or block me.