73. No Unicorns were Harmed in the Making of This Non Suggestive Anniversary Cake

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unicorn-peen-1Yesterday, the 5th of July was the second anniversary of my big chop.

It’s funny I had pretty much forgotten in the week leading up to it. I should now be considered a successful statistic.

My anniversary coincided with the easing of the big lockdown. Lots of footage of the pubs full and overflowing. Having known a couple of people that have died of COVID 19 and a couple of friends that had contracted it, I will resist the urge to go and get a portion for myself all because of a Malibu and Coke. The two guys that I know contracted it, and survived, are still suffering the side effects long afterward.Read More »

72. The Devil and Her Apprentice Do Not Wear Prada and They Live In Peckham. Part One

Peter Ellis1 Comment

Horse-Hoof

I recently mentioned the sad death of a man that I interviewed, in 2018, with advanced prostate cancer.

His name was Richard.

I have become great friends with one of his daughters, DeeDee. She would perhaps tell you that I have become the bully brother that she never had and never knew she always wanted.

I asked her if she wanted to update the blog and she was totally up for it. What I was totally unprepared for was the incredulous, heartbreaking story she would tell me.Read More »

71. The mad scientist grew concerned as the radiation meter started to fluctuate

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CarryOnScreamingMy six-monthly prostate appointment was on Thursday.

I will be honest I wasn’t hopeful knowing how my run of good things happening to me, always pans out.

The week before I had taken a ghostly empty train ride into London Bridge. The new norm is to look at fellow passengers and nod over face masks. I did just that with a fellow traveller walking through the train carriage. We nodded that nod that said we were both on the same page. Ready to open a window and eject anyone with so much as a pre-cough.Read More »

70. Two’s company but that does not always mean it’s a good thing

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Thunderbird 2It’s my birthday today. Yeaaaah!!

I am fifty-two. It was two years and one day ago that those faithful words were uttered in my direction,

“It’s not good news and you cannot, not do anything about it’

Ripping my little world apart. Ahhhh, bless.

Not one to dwell on it, I shall be spending my big day with a Spiderman Victoria sponge cake, building a model Star Trek Voyager and for dinner a pandemic bag of fish and chips. The Uber delivered fish and chips being a rare and eye wateringly expensive indulgence.

A week ago, I had a Deja Vue moment. I wondered how I managed to find myself back, for the second time, derrière exposed on the surgery bench as I did almost exactly two years ago.

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