Issue 120

Mike’s Pith & Wind cont. Fortunately, the musty halls of every single-sex (male) secondary educational institution that ever was, haunted as they inevitably are by variously amusing and resentful, but universally misogynist masters, taught us impressionable acne-faced boys that we could exact a subtle, but satisfying revenge on womankind, employing the very weapon our mothers…

S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D B I L…

…as you turned sixteen. I reminded Dick about the Wolseley the other day and we both remembered the other as having been responsible for dinging it at some stage. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the guilty party, but I do remember a hairy moment on the Summit Road with a few of my friends on…

..sign of Proust or a bottle of Pinot Noir, not a barbecued artichoke heart to be seen, just accents that could break glass at a hundred metres. I felt surrounded by stereotypes from the Bulletin and Billy Butlin holiday camps. But, with the exception of the on-going lack of Proust and the super strength strine…

S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D B I L…

..whilst trying not to be disturbed by the repetitious recounting of weekend exploits of the young, old and terminally stupid. Should I so choose I won’t be working again, as just before Christmas I was packaged out from my place of employment of the past 20 years, the result of one of its periodic and…