It’s funny how things can sneak up on you without you realising anything is happening until it’s too late. I was looking back at this photo a couple of days ago and thinking to my self, why on earth would a cocktail be invented with a prosthetic tongue protuberance, even if it does have popping candy on the tongue, its only now that I    notice its a revolting creation, like lard on the walls of a lift; impossible to relax and lean, I should have been on my guard, instead I ended up with stains on my suit. Cocktails are essentially the Bonnie Blue of alcohol, pushing the boundaries of what’s acceptable, too ridiculous to be taken seriously and far too expensive to be taken regularly unless you’re an influencer or a content provider, which I am… in a way.

The corridor of normality has many doors ultimately leading to the same destination; an elevator with the walls smeared in lard, does one stand erect in the centre, wary not to touch or does one divert into one or several or all of the doors off the corridor to taste what’s within. I’ve been through many of those and can probably say my life has been richer for it, but can definitely say it makes for a lot more confusion. What are we meant to be doing here? Stopping the boats or worrying about the imminent slowing of the Gulf Stream? Which would of course be a lot more catastrophic. The human condition depresses me whilst Reform has no policy and no one seems to care or notice.