Wednesday, 15 March 2017


I've had the same crappy old pre-smartphone Nokia mobile for a hundred years, and finally took the plunge. I bought a 94p USB cable for it, so I could transfer all of the photos onto my computer.

Up until now they've just been sitting there: a rich mine of pre-selfie selfies, extreme thumbshots and increasingly unimpressive sunsets.

I couldn't really tell how good any of the photos were because my screen is the size of a Shreddie.



So I transferred them all and browsed.

It was quite moving seeing myself age, one jpeg at a time. I was a more prolific photographer in the early years, but things have tailed off... There are only about six photos from the past couple of years, and four of them are of the dog I kidnapped. Still waiting for that ransom.

There are several decent ones buried in there. I posted this one on Facebook:

I like it because I'm captivated by pepper.

It's from several years ago. I can't remember if I planned it to look like this, with the camera hidden. Also, Lucy's face is obscured by flowers, so you'd think I would have done better. But it's a real trompe l'oeil. As long as l'oiel is suffering from l'astigmatism.

Then there's this one. It is a generic sunset, but also includes raindrops:

Most of the ones I kept were photos of Lucy. I should probably just post them all to Facebook and embarrass her. She's not reading this, so she'll never know until she's tagged. And by then it will be too late.

Anyway, the upshot of this is: I should be an eventual photographer.

The reasons for this are many. One is that I use photographic idioms in my daily life. Like "upshot".

It's difficult to be an eventual photographer in this day and age.

It's too easy to take photos and immediately see, edit and share them.

In the past, everyone was an eventual photographer.

You'd have to take the photos, travel to a "dark room shop", leave the film, return home, worry impotently about framing, return to the "dark room shop", fumble for change (contactless card payment - or even chip and pin - was a long way off), pay the "dark room technician", and leaf through the results.

They were almost all terrible. People would look at the shoddy snaps over your shoulder and would laugh. Old-fashioned analogue laughs.

If you want to develop photos (as the old Jessop saying goes), you must first develop a thick skin.

But we liked it that way.

Eventual photography was a noble profession. Waiting and disappointment was part of the thrill. Just like a job at Bella Italia.

In today's world of Instagram filters and that thing where you swap your face with a dog's face or whatever, everyone is an immediate photographer.

Where's the fun in that?

Creativity should be slow, inefficient and impossible to share with others. Also it should mostly not end up happening.

It's taken me years to get these photos. I could easily have bought this USB cable at any time. But I didn't.

I'm clearly cut out to be an eventual photographer.

Slow and steady wins the race. The tortoise has still got a Minidisc player.

I'm glad to have discovered my vocation. I'm sure I'll get around to following up on said discovery in a couple of weeks/months.

This build-up of inaction has increased my self-confidence and made me realise that I can accomplish anything as long as I put my mind to it in 2010.

In the years to come, I'm sure I'll be equally proud to be an eventual sculptor, an eventual viewer of Channel 4's Misfits and an eventual toenail-trimmer.

Monday, 6 March 2017

What Did You Do With That Banana?

You carve the calf, but can you fold the foal?

That's my new substitute phrase for "you can talk the talk, but can you walk the walk?", which is ableist and anti-mute.

No-one can be offended by the calf/foal one. Nothing wrong with a bit of cattle-whittlin'/equine origami, no sir.

And, while we're on the subject, why isn't the past tense of peel pelt?

What did you do with that banana?
I pelt it.

Felt, not feeled. Knelt, not kneeled. Belt, not beeled.

Why's there no pelt?

But it only works with a double-e.

E-a? That dog won't hunt.

No-one has ever used the word "congealt". Have they?

I've just googled it, and essentially the answer is no.

So if it's e-a, you can't abbreviate it with l-t. That's just the hand we've been dealt.


I feel like I've aged a thousand years since I began writing the word "thousand" just then. But isn't exponential aging a symptom of the degeneration of the human spirit, rather than the body? The body declines at a steady rate - only the spirit can kick it down that slippery hill towards a big wet mushy pile of leaves.

Ageing is simply travelling. We can choose to travel in a dignified manner (horse-drawn horse), or in an undignified manner (crammed in a Deliveroo hotbox, smothered in ramen). When we feel ourselves moving at uncomfortable speed, we realise that we've lost control of our spirit, and our bodies will pay the price, by using its hand to fork over banknotes.

And by "spirit", I don't mean a soul or any of that mumbo-jumbo. I just mean consciousness or a ghost or something.

No, I'm not losing track of my argument.

I think I'm really onto something.

Here's an artist's rendition of a mosquito wearing a novelty foam hand:

Monday, 20 February 2017


I haven't forgotten.

As I did with my previous post, today I intended to mine content from the two years I've spent off the radar.

The trouble is, there isn't any. My best content has always been from my time on the radar.

I had copious beeps and boops to use as inspiration. It was on the radar that I came up with the characters of the Roadrunner and Betty Boop. I also detected aircraft, which was some of my most rewarding work.

But since I climbed down off the radar, I haven't been so prolific.

Maybe I should mount some other kind of detector or sensing technology, such as a Geiger counter or a sheaf of litmus paper.

I might recapture some of my glory days and see how acidic they were.


I'm glad I wrote 'sheaf' just then. I'd forgotten how pleasurable it is to write 'sheaf'.

But only if it's pronounced properly. It should rhyme with reef, not with chef.

The only time the latter pronunciation is acceptable is when using a contraction for "sheep-deaf" (which is what happens when you have wool in your ears).

"The entire flock was lost to wolves because the shepherd was sheaf. A crook does not a Q-tip make."


I tried "cotton bud" in place of "Q-tip" there, but it didn't flow as nicely. I've abandoned my country and my culture, and spat on the queen's hat. All for the sake of - what I think we all agree is - the PERFECT SENTENCE.

This hasn't been the longest of blog posts, but it has contained a high concentration of ideas.

To make it a bit longer, I'm going to try and embed a Tumblr post. I hope it works.

I've watched quite a few films over the past couple of years. One of them is the John Cassavetes film A Woman Under The Influence.

It features a fantastic performance by Gena Rowlands. It's great, but it's pretty hard to watch. Apparently, Richard Dreyfuss said, to sum up his glowing review of the film, "I went crazy. I went home and vomited". I'm totally on board with that.

Instead of watching it, you can just scroll through this picture set. It tells its own story.

See you next time, fans!


(Hey, it did work! All Hail Tumblr. Ger ready for many future posts of animal gifs and feminist propaganda.)

Saturday, 18 February 2017

One Toe

I've started this blog post fifty times in the past - Jesus - two years.

Sometimes just in my head. Sometimes on screen. One time in the condensation on a perspex riot shield.

What can I say? How do I explain?

I could sum everything up in a glib manner. I could just start afresh, and pretend I'd never been away. I could give a long explanation of everything I've been through, with photos and a YouTube montage.

But instead, I'm doing this. Which is none of those things.

How have you been?

If you've been reloading this blog page daily for the past two years, hoping for an update: it's your fucking birthday.

Here's your cake.


A couple of months ago, I tested the waters.

I was trying to ease my way back into online life. But I'd forgotten how. It seemed so alien. It was like using... a... simile. I couldn't believe this used to be my bread and butter. I didn't even remember what shape a loaf was, or what instrument that Lurpak dude used to play.

So I went for the basics. First, I posted a photo of a sunset on Facebook:

Posted by Paul Fung on Sunday, December 18, 2016

Then I took part in a popular meme on Twitter:

Neither of these things generated much response. But they weren't meant to.

I was just learning to walk again after years in a non-perambulatory coma. Or gingerly attempting a post-stroke symmetrical gurn.

It's hard. You can feel the rust. You know you're forcing it. Your metaphors are strained and cumbersome. When you were writing every day, your metaphors had snap and bite. They always made sense, and never went on for too long. You never used unusual vocabulary as a substitute for good writing. You never shifted suddenly from the past to the present tense, and then back again.

But then I didn't post anything for two months. It didn't take. It never takes. And it still might not take. This might be my last post until 2019.

I might not even post this at all.

So after dipping a toe into Facebook and a toe into Twitter (and continuing to dip my slotted spoon into Google+), I've decided to launch myself back into bloggy waters, right up to the calf.

(And I know those are Old Man Social Networks. Instagram or Snapchat are still too much of a novelty for me. Maybe I'll get there one day.)

It might not take - I'm aware of that. And then what? I might post a link to this post on the aforementioned social networks and then retreat into my shell. It will be a false dawn. And the dozens of people who have waited for me to re-emerge will be crushed, like when Harper Lee came out of retirement to write that David Brent movie.

Isn't it be better to be thought of fondly as an artist who vanished at the peak of his powers? I'm sure that's how I'm thought of.

I'm sure I'm thought of.

Belated, curtailed resurrections are most annoying kind.

But I can't let that stop me. This isn't about my public image. It's about my mental state. I need to get back on the internet to stay sane.

Read that again.

I need to get back on the internet to stay sane.

That's the terrifying situation in which we find ourselves, friends.

And what a time to do it!

World events are.. well, you know. Everything's falling apart. And everyone is, justifiably, spending all of their time talking about it.

If I raise my voice now, do I have to talk about it too? I don't think I can. I don't think I can even continue this train of thought now.

So I won't.


I've already got further than I have in the last two years. I'm proud of myself.

Hey, I know. I can do a tweet compendium. I used to do those all the time. I used to be crazily prolific. I don't think that's going to happen again. But how many good tweets have I done in the past two years? I haven't checked, but I'm going to guess: maybe double figures.

Let's find out together in another instalment of:

Remember How This Used To Work? (Except I'll Embed Them Now)


And they're all basically part of the same thing.

That's less than I was expecting.

So I haven't been tweeting.

I also used to write about jokes or ideas that I'd dreamt about. Do I still dream about things?

Yes. I emailed two of them to Lucy.


It’s a bit too fully formed for a dream joke, so maybe it’s an old tweet of mine or someone else’s:

Person 1: A big-billed bird was talking to me about a John Grisham novel the other day.
Person 2: The Pelican Brief?
Person 1: No, actually it was quite loquacious.


Last night I dreamt the expression “that’s about as much use as a chocolate wife”. 

Three tweets, two dreams.


My confidence in this post is wavering.

But I have to post it now, don't I?

Searching for Twitter embed codes ain't free. Ain't trouble free anyway.

Oh, man. I can tell I'm not going to post another one of these for ages. And then the pressure will build, and I'll just feel bad about it.

Maybe I'll just do a quick one tomorrow. I'll just post a photo of a rusk or something.

Anyway, it's been nice to speak to you again.

This has been weird.

Tuesday, 3 February 2015

a conversation I dreamed a few weeks ago

Two people are having a conversation.


Person 1: My name is Charles Donnelly Player. So my friends call me 'CD Player'. Get it?

Person 2: Seedy Player?

Person 1: No, C. D. Player. Like a CD Player.

Person 2: Oh. Yeah, I get it.


Person 2: Or, what about, instead of that, you call yourself C Deep Layer? That's even better.

Person 1: What does that mean?

Person 2: You know: Deep Layer. Like... you have a deep layer. Like underneath the surface, there's a hidden deep layer to you. One of your layers is deep. And the 'C' is your first initial. Get it?

Person 1: Ohhhh, right. Yeah, I get it. I think 'CD Player' is better, though.

Person 2: But why would you want to be named after an obsolete technology? You might as well call yourself 'Windows XP'. 


Person 2: If your middle name was Xavier. 


Person 2: And your first name was Windows.

Person 1: ...

Wednesday, 31 December 2014

2014: The Year in Burst Blood Vessels

I hope you're wearing your retrospectacles, because things are about to get looked back on. Nostalgia, comin' at ya. Light the prior-fire, because what once was old will be covered anew. 

That's all 100% true, because it's time for:

DiamondBadger's Headscissors Review of 2014

Here are previous entries:


I like to summarise things in categories, particularly at this time of year. I haven't written a blog post for ages, though, and I'm struggling to string sentences together. I've forgotten how to think, how to be engaging, and how to think I'm engaging.

Still, with sections this clearly demarcated, only a fool could stumble. And am I a stumbling fool? My grazed knees tell the story.

I hope you had a lovely Christmas. It's over now, so take those chipolatas out of your hair. You look ridiculous.

Life-Changing Event of 2014

I can't remember anything interesting that happened this year. No holidays, no moving house, no new skills, no new facial hair. 

In last year's version of this, I predicted that I'd put up the mirror we bought. We did put up the mirror, but it took several months and several armed robberies of B&Q. 

I can see myself now.

Podcast of 2014 (category un-retired)

Podcasts have come back with a bang in this household. In fact, 2014 is the Chinese Year of the Podcast. 

I, along with a large chunk of the western world, listened to Serial. I don't have any strong opinions on it, but I thought I should let you know. No strong opinions at all. I certainly didn't kill anybody, if that's what you're thinking. I like Koreans.

Ahaha, a joke about a real-life murder! It's a suitable topic for entertainment! It's an invasion of privacy! It's legitimate journalism! Justice! Respect! Awful people on Reddit! It's not about that! It is about that! Mail Chimp! Jokes about Mail Chimp! Joking about Mail Chimp is an invasion of privacy! Justice! Respect! That dead lawyer's voice! Due process! An acceptable ending! A disgrace! A revelation!

There. That's probably covered it.

My favourite podcast of the year is Comedy Bang Bang. I can't remember when we began listening to it, but we're now so involved in its world and its characters that I can't believe we ever didn't listen to it.

If you haven't listened to it, it's a comedy podcast that loosely takes the form of an interview. Various comedy stars are on there, and there are also people doing characters. It's almost all improvised. There are hundreds of episodes, so it's difficult to know where to start. Maybe a Best Of episode? Or this one. Or anything with Paul F Tompkins or Lauren Lapkus on it.

One of the funniest people on there is Andy Daly, who portrays a wide variety of characters from cowboy poets to German tourists to embodiments of pure evil. Daly is a ridiculously funny improviser. We may hear about him again later.

He was also featured in a spin-off podcast, featuring some of his characters: The Andy Daly Podcast Pilot Project. It makes me laugh. Try this one as a taster.

I've probably been listening to some other ones too. 

TV Programme of 2014

I've been watching a fair bit of television this year, which in the old days would have been something to be ashamed of. Luckily the idiot box is idiot no longer, and is venerated as the highest culture available for consumption (above sculpture, asthma-ballet and every single book).

New Stuff

I am in love with the Zeitgeist, so I was forced to watch True Detective and Fargo (the two must always be compared to each other, and never assessed on their individual merits). I didn't love either of them. True Detective was more ambitious and had higher highs, but also had a fair chunk of stupidity. Fargo was much more consistent but never wowed me. I'll probably watch the second seasons of both, though.

Louis continued to be excellent and unlike anything else on television. Not so many laughs this year, but some compelling drama.

I watched a couple of new animated shows: Rick and Morty and Bojack Horseman. The former was co-created by Dan Harmon, and reminded me of Community in that is was wildly ambitious and imaginative, occasionally superb, but never quite forming a satisfying whole.

I still haven't finished Bojack Horseman yet, but have really been enjoying it. It started off as a pretty funny show with a standard set-up, but as the season goes on, it becomes more rich and emotional and densely serialised. A surprising joy.

Mad Men was also on. I can't remember anything that happened in it.

Oh yes. That nipple.

I don't think they should have split up the final season. I have a short attentio

Old Stuff

We watched the old 80s TV drama The Jewel In The Crown on DVD, and thoroughly enjoyed it. It's one of those classy old British dramas that are full of great character actors and big themes.

I finally got around to watching Twin Peaks on the lovely new Blu-ray box set, and it obsessed me for a month or so. It falls apart a bit in the second season, but the highs are pretty damn high, and it's a fun world in which to immerse oneself. Except when it's absolutely terrifying.

Another diamond I belatedly found waiting for me was Deadwood. I've written about it at length here. It's amazing, and automatically jumps into my top ten TV shows of all time. I haven't made that list, so that statement is probably meaningless.

But my television show of 2014, by a distance is... (trumpet purchase, trumpet lessons, fanfare)...


It's Andy Daly! Remember him, from before?

In this comedy, he plays someone who reviews life experiences. It's a funny premise, and would have been great if it was just him reviewing funny stuff. But there's a strong story arc throughout the season, with lots of fun callbacks and lovely emotional bits. The final episode is one of my favourite single television episodes in some time. I haven't made that list (or even thought about it), so that statement is probably meaningless.

I don't know if it's available in the UK (it's not even out on DVD yet), so find it any way you can. And when it comes out, buy three copies.

Here's an example bit:

Shoe of 2014

I'm going to go with the snow shoe. I always thought snow shoes had to be tennis rackets, but I've taken a different tack and have used an umpire's chair. The snow would have to be pretty deep for it to be ineffective.

Film of 2014

New Stuff

Let's rattle through these. I've basically been left underwhelmed by every film I saw at the cinema this year. That probably comes down to my mindset, rather than the quality of the movies in question. I might just be difficult to please in a public venue.

I might be missing some, but I think the only films I saw in a cinema were Boyhood (impressive, but not as interesting or moving as I'd anticipated), Gone Girl (schlocky, dull, strangely cast), Guardians of the Galaxy (pretty fun, but no more so than the other dozen Marvel movies that have come out in the past five minutes), Captain America: The Winter Soldier (wimped out on its interesting potential, made Black Widow boring again).

I did see a couple of films on Blu-ray that came out in 2014. Under The Skin was great and creepy and just my cup of tea, with some really memorable bits. Only Lovers Left Alive was really fun and really funny, and only occasionally as irritating as its premise suggested.

Old Stuff

I saw The Conformist and McCabe and Mrs Miller for the first time this year, and wrote the words "TOP NOTCH" on the DVD cases (figuratively - one was on Netflix).

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (the original film and the Blu-ray 'Missing Pieces') was my favourite film experience of the year.

Moment of 2014

This might be a good time to mention my beloved Southampton Football Club. I've fretted about them at various points over the past year, particularly when we seemed to be selling everyone off, but this season has been fantastic. The manager is great, the players are great, the football, the league position, the Twitter feed - all wonderful. I've needed a lot of cheering up this year, and the Saints have managed it more often that not.

My moment of the year was being at St Mary's to watch us beat Sunderland 8(eight) - 0. If you have to spell the number, you know it was a special occasion.

Music of 2014

Not too many comments here, just some BANGIN' (good) TUNES (song choices).

Bilal - A Love Surreal (this is actually from 2013, but I got the album this year and it's one of my favourites)

Tiny Ruins - Me At The Museum, You In The Wintergardens (single)

clipping. - CLPPNG

The Twilight Sad - Nobody Wants To Be Here And Nobody Wants To Leave 

D'Angelo and The Vanguard - Black Messiah

By doing this so late, I get to include D'Angelo's album on my end of year review! Take that, early December idiots!

The album is fantastic, and my number two record of the year.

My favourite album of the year is... (recalls trumpet skills, fanfare)...

Run The Jewels - Run The Jewels 2

This was number one on Pitchfork's 2014 list, which would normally put me off (I'm insecure and like to seem original). But this is so good, I can't choose anything else. I love Killer Mike, and I liked the first RTJ album, but this was a big leap forward from that one. I've listened to this many times, as loud as my ears will take.

Misunderstanding of 2014

Accidentally bought five hundred ovens for someone who wanted a single fridge.

New Habit of 2014

Heroin. I haven't actually taken any heroin, but I have been thinking about it. I might be addicted to thinking about it. My friends and family took part in an intervention, in which I was advised to "shit or get off the pot". 

So I've stopped thinking about it.

Stuffed Animal of 2014

This is a soft crocodile. He was a birthday present from Lucy, and what a present he was! You can't argue with a crocodile.

His name is Snarlin' McFarlane.

Ordeal of 2014


Albert of 2014 (category retired - stupid)

Stand-up of 2014

I haven't seen much stand-up, but I did do a couple of shows this year, One was terrifying and exhausting, And the other was the day before yesterday. It went pretty well. I actually did this material (the nature programme stuff) and, with a safety layer of irony, it went down a treat.

Number of 2014


Celebrity Sighting of 2014 (category retired until I see someone famous)

Picture of a Vegetable Made in MS Paint of 2014

(Yes, I do this every year)

Odd Celebrity Crush of 2014

I think I fell in love with St Vincent. Her album has been riding high on many end-of-year lists, but I haven't heard it. I don't know any of her music. I don't even really know what she looks like.

But I loved the little "oh" noise she makes in response to a terrible joke at 0:17 of the below clip.

That's it. Just the little noise.

I'm into it.

Language of 2014


Tool of 2014


Annoyance of 2014

The fonts are all weird. All of them. Not just dingbats or whatever.

Disclaimer of 2014

All opinions are my own. Even yours. I bought them at auction.

Clothing Item of 2014

I bought a soft, dark red, long-sleeved t-shirt. It makes me look like someone from the past and future simultaneously.

Hero of 2014 (category retired - Lucy is permanent holder of the title)

Comic of 2014 (new category!)

Since I started buying comic books again, I've been meaning to add this section to my year-end review. But it's getting late and I just don't have the time for an in-depth analysis. What a shame. I'm sure I would have been very insightful.

Never mind, I'll expand it next time.

In 2014, I've really enjoyed the sci-fi series Saga, the always great Astro City, the hilarious Superior Foes of Spider-Man, and Archer & Armstrong, which is also hilarious, but I can't write that twice (can I?).

But my two favourite series are these:

 Mark Waid and Chris Samnee's amazing Daredevil, which is sadly ending soon. It may be the greatest Daredevil run ever, and that's saying something.

The new Ms Marvel series by G Willow Wilson and Adrian Alphona got a lot of media interest ("A female Muslim hero?!") and there were concerns that it might be a publicity stunt. But it's been fantastic. I love Spider-Man-style teen hero stories (balancing heroism with the restraints of everyday life), and Alphona's artwork is brilliantly unique.

Catchphrase of 2014

We've started referring to hot dogs as "bun-longs". Is that a catchprhase?

Fact of 2014

Roald Dahl wrote the screenplay of Beverly Hills Cop II in my new RPF fan-fiction story.

Best Bit from My Review of 2014

I didn't mention ebola.

Prediction for 2015

Are they going to reboot Scarface? I bet they're going to reboot Scarface.

And it will destroy US diplomatic ties with Cuba. They've only just been re-tied, guys! Don't let this get in the way!


Well, that certainly started well.

Just like 2015 will!

Happy New Year, everyone!

Let's all join the same army.

Monday, 15 December 2014


Two and a half weeks since my last blog post. It's hard to escape the feeling that we might have begun The Great Winding Down.

It's been a great run, of course. So many moments to cherish. We'll all remember that post I wrote in the middle of the night that made no sense. We'll always have the posts where I start talking to myself and get frustrated. The amusing sketch where two planks have a surreal dialogue will be with us always.

But the posts are getting less and less frequent. I seem to be running out of things to write about. Or at least lacking the ability to spin nothing into gold (or, more usually, straw).

There hasn't been a clamour for new material from (what I presume to be) my many readers. I suspect it's a bit like The Simpsons. It's been a long time since the golden age, and I'm damaging my legacy by continuing to write. It might be time for Headscissors to be taken behind the wolfshed and put out of its misery gun-style (like a dog in a film that I've heard about).

But I don't have it in me to shoot either a dog or a blog. The good thing about blogs is that they feel no pain. Also, you don't have to take them for walks, or buy them injections. I can just leave it here, and come back to prod the corpse every couple of months.

Of course, I still have my end-of-year review to come. That's something to look forward to. What song did I like? How many injuries did I curate? What are my lows and lowers of 2014? You'll find out, and you'll be hugely impressed by my eclecticism.

But for now, I'll make myself a cup of tea.

PLANK 2: That sounds nice.