• spewing out words in a tumbled jumbled farrago that is somewhere between stream of consciousness and scholarly
  • cycling in fog is insouciant joy
  • pissing while freewheeling in le tour, rolling past people standing at the roadside


  • I wrote and it wasn’t any better.
  • 4° is cold for this part of the world with our British inherited insipid domestic architecture of draughty doors, single glazing and insulation as afterthought.
  • how to explain to child that ‘course’ sounds right written as ‘corse’, but it’s rong, or why ‘once’ is spelt as if it is trying to say ‘onsee’ when shouldn’t it be wonce?


  • I don’t much like the lecture today. Borrowed from a conference and little prep as some sad serious preliminaries left little time room or emotional and cognitive space to craft it into anything other than a motley failed soufflé.
  • trains offer a useful interstitial duration
  • I don’t know what to do


  • remain excited enthralled bemused enchanted by seeing eastern grey kangaroos in Heidelberg, a hop step and jump from a busy arterial road.
  • note to others who insist on playing ‘commuter cup’. If you pass me going downhill because you’re pushing a stupid big gear I am very confident of passing you if the road ever goes up.
  • note to those in a Tour de France bubble. Observe a pro’s cadence. See that? Pushing too big a gear, slowly, doesn’t make you faster or stronger. It will fuck your knees.

video blogging, et al.