Nixta Sinks

I'll come back. After two requests in one day from vastly different incontinents on vastly different continents, I'll grace you with my bollocks again. Not literally, unless you want me to, and even then I reserve the right to withold them. Actually, there's pretty much no chance at all that any of you miserable lot will be literally graced by my bollocks, though you might get grazed by my belligerence and disgraced by my bullshit, and rightly so.

Oh, the world is a much much poorer place since I last soiled these pages with anything other than a complaint about how little respect this site got from my peers (that's you, you turdchewers), but I shall do my best to make amends (not that you in any way deserve it) and in the meantime if you feel the need to send me pecuniary tributes please do so via

Toothless Jake
The Charlotte Street Hotel
(Somewhere by the terrace)
Charlotte Street
London
W1N 1FU

He's the googly-eyed leperous one breathing bubonic plague from behind a stack of old Big Issues. I exchange his takings for half-smoked cigarettes and a lick of my ashtray once a week. He hasn't long to live, the little shit.