Unlike some weird people out there that exist (and dress up like has-been members of The Beatles), I don't need an anti-hero.
I am an anti-hero. An anti-hero with tits. Problem?
I'm also an anti-hero with a cluttered desk. A cluttered desk where I send/receive snail mail, with morning light that blazes through the windows. Fuck sending emails. But I'll trash everything on the desk onto the floor if I need to study. Except the tea, because staining a new carpet with raspberry tea isn't anti-hero; it's just fucking careless.
Because snail mail wrapped in string and paper packets is ultimately anti-hero. Obviously.
Because brightly coloured dodo birds are totally anti-hero. Problem?
Oh – I've got some new books too. Because we may be going to Japan next year. Depends. But I intend to be pretty anti-hero there too. And probably very scary.
I'd like to provide some sort of review for these books, but I think the titles kind of speak for themselves (there's a video here of Japanese folk learning to swear with one of these books). Totally anti-hero, though I probably need to worry about attempting to speak a little German first as we're going to Berlin next week to see what mankind has achieved for itself.
Annual leave beckons. Laters, chumps.