Much as I’m sure we’d all love to picture me as a well-groomed and
pampered pup, I think it’s fair to say I’m a bit of a mongrel at
heart. Probably the love child of a best of breed who had a tryst with
some stray street dog. That’d be me.
I guess it depends if each jigsaw piece on my arm counts as a tattoo,
in which case I’ve got more than fifty, but I think it’s easier to
count it in terms of how many hours I’ve had done. Oh, in which case,
it’s more than fifty, too, which is sort of pleasingly symmetrical,
politics, what would you do?
I’d probably change both guilt and mainstream politics, if those were
the rules. Steamroller over both of them. I’m sure the world would be
much better off without them. Oh, damn it, that’s two things. Hmph,
well, I’m not going to feel guilty about breaking your rules if that’s
the case, am I? Ha!
I… I think I do, sometimes, but not always. They mostly involve
being haunted by the memory of Lizz Lunney running around my flat
singing “Every Loser Wins” out of all of the windows until the people
at the bus stop outside started throwing things. Or up. Or crying. Oh,
hang on, that was a dream, and it was brilliant.
Oh, I just used an Oxford comma. Can we pretend this is a spoken
interview and you transcribed it, so then this becomes a really odd
thing I just said?
My gift? I’d want a puppy! Hmm, or do you mean mutant power gift. Oh.
Bum. Presents. The mutant power of presents (without them taking up
space or having a carbon footprint or any of those guilt-inducing
things). Ooh, or the ability to have people near me get the
non-alcoholic drink they really need appear as soon as they need it.
Might be a tiny bit inconvenient sometimes. A cavalcade of Dr Pepper
falling out of the sky over a busy road junction when I go under it in
the tube. Ah well. No guilt, just presents.