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[Image of Carl]

Welcome to Newsletter #90

A bunch of tales I wanted to share with you

A tale I read

Untitled by Daniel Piper
[Untitled by Daniel Piper]

A tale I heard

Rik Mayall, speaking in an interview recorded a few months before but released a few months after his death, on who he would’ve liked to read him a story:

"Kate Moss. Ooh I’d have loved Shaky Bill to tell me a story. I mean, William Shakespeare. He could squeak a nib, couldn’t he?

     Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
     Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
     To the last syllable of recorded time;
     And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
     The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
     Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
     That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
     And then is heard no more. It is a tale
     Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
     Signifying nothing.

See, I mean he could write. You know, he could write! He’s a belter, old Shaky Bill. He could squeak a nib, so you imagine someone who could write like that saying ‘Good even, Rik. I have a story to tell you.’ Wouldn’t you go ‘eerruugggh go on then. What? WHAT?!’" 

A tale I saw

Notes From The Sexual Health Clinic Waiting Room by Toby Campion
[Notes From The Sexual Health Clinic Waiting Room by Toby Campion]

A tale I wrote


Of all the gin joints
in all the towns
in all the world,
she walks into that other bloke’s.

A tail I like

[A tail I like]
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