Too Late

I got to see my father a few days before he died. I got there the day after he lost the ability to speak.

He’d have made age 65 if he’d had just a few more days.

Life can be a cunt sometimes.

© Grumpy Axolotl

Celebration of life.



It’s why we are here; every one of us.

I am a man.

Women have curvaceous breasts, shapely rumps and big hairy muffs. 

And that’s what makes me…

That’s what makes me horny. By gum!

I like it and I will never apologise for that.

(C) Grumpy Axolotl


Someone may draw a detailed picture of a human face and be considered a great artist. Or, they might draw a detailed picture of human genitalia and be considered a menace to society.


A cat gets stoned, rolling on a catnip plant: “awww – isn’t that cute!”
A woman gets stoned, smoking a marijuana plant: “Lock her up!”


When I say “I am proud to be gay!” I will be cheered and called a hero.
When I say “I am proud to be straight” I will be jeered and called a homophobe. I shall be required to paint rainbows as penance.

Wait …

When I shout in the street “I am proud to be black”, I am a civil-rights campaigner. But If I were “proud to be white” I would be given a white-robe and a matching hood.

But, can’t we just get along?

Should I say “I am proud to be a woman”, I am tagged as liberated, empowered. Hear me roar! I’ll have my own TV show.
But should I say “I am proud to be a man”, then I am a misogynist, a woman-beater and surely a rapist.

Seriously … What the fuck?


Go Google a Kite!

Imagine: The journey of a lifetime. Finally, you have arrived. All those months of working weekends and saving pennies have paid off. You’ve even taken the time to learn some of the language, and now you’re really here! – Walking through the country of your dreams for the first time. Everything is so new, so fresh, so vibrant. Every sound, sight, and smell a new wonder to behold. Even the sunlight feels exotic. Approaching a stranger, you manage, albeit a little hestitantly, in the local lingo, to ask “Excuse me, which way to the town-square?”. To which they reply with barely-disguised contempt “Google is your friend” before hurrying away.


Back in reality, I was once wondering who was playing Pedal-Steel on Clapton’s “Tears in Heaven” (It’s Jay Dee Maness). Google didn’t pony-up immediately, so I asked the question on an Internet forum. The first response? “Google is your friend!”

Seems to be the de-facto answer in this decade, and I’m sure most of us have heard it (or used it) recently. Well, I have several problems with this reply:

1) The implication is that I’m either too lazy, too retarded, or both to try Google first.
2) No attempt has been made to answer the question. So why bother replying, unless you just like to think you sound clever? asshole!
3) Yes, just about anything trivial can be answered by all-seeing, all-knowing Google. But asking in a forum is an invitation for conversation between human beings. Why piss on that?

So to all you smug “Google is your friend” bastards …

Fuck you, and the horses you rode in on, you self-righteous, arrogant pricks!

Edit Me

Editing. I’ve learnt that editing is not only necessary, it is also fun. It can also become a problem; a curse. No matter how many times I proof-read, there is nearly always at least one embarrassing and blatantly obvious grammar mistake in every post I make. I clean those up as soon as I notice them. The worst of it though, is reading my older posts. It’s not that there is anything wrong with them, it’s just that I want to tear them to shreds and re-assemble them, because I can see how much better they would be if I just changed this sentence and used this word instead of that one and put in the bit about the trans-galactic, trans-sexual dentist who…

Where to stop?

Nothing will ever be perfect – I know that. But how good is good enough? As I get better at writing, I expect to view my earlier work through an ever-more-critical lens. Do I leave my earlier work intact so I can see how far I’ve come. Do I slap it into better shape, remove it from public display or simply burn it in disgust? I imagine that burning a WordPress blog would be somewhat problematic.

I’m sure there is a space between professionalism and obsessive perfectionism, I just haven’t found it yet.

Have you found yours?