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I’m beaten down by life, ground into the pavement by its dirty heel, until all that’s left are innards and skin. Perhaps I protest too much, but you’d think that the acquisition of a new pair of swimming trunks wouldn’t be such a fucker.
As we know, it is almost the season of hot, lazy days, spent frolicking by Hampstead ponds, or perhaps even in the sea. Never a keen swimmer in my youth, I have, throughout my older years, begun to enjoy it more – especially now that I’ve resumed my disastrous smoking habit, and shed a few pounds.
However, an investigation of my swimwear showed it to be well past its best, very near its dangerous worst in fact. I had no idea that swimwear loses its elasticity over time, or becomes transparent. Thank god I tried them on in the modesty of my own home, before strutting across the heath, and straight into Highbury Magistrates court.
I hoped at first, that with some simple seamstressing, my lovely old Hugo Boss’s could be salvaged – pretty sure when I was at school, boys wore trunks their mothers had re-elasticated. We gave this a go, but they looked like balloons – or a swimming nappy – hardly the debonair image I was going for. Giving up on the salvage job, I decided to see what was available online – surely there would be a fine selection? Wrong – unless you want a mankini, a thong, or stars and stripes shorts that reach your knees – the choice was woeful.
At last, the idea of vintage retro trunks hit me, and I found a pair on ebay, proper dad trunks from the Co-op. Without reading too much about them – such as they had already been worn – I placed the order. Had they been advertised on a specialist site they may have fetched a good deal more than twelve pounds. The urine soaked rags that arrived, were an affront to human decency…and they were too small. Reader, I sent them back.
The contingency plan involved a new stripy number from Turkey, with indecipherable sizing – they could be budgie smugglers, or the entire aviary. I hoped for the best, and bought with one click. The bastards arrived today, and have now been passed on to the Rt Hon Eric Pickles MP to use as a hammock. Fortunately, the weather is not yet up to outdoor swimming, so there is still time, but at this rate, Highbury Magistrates court seems a distinct possibility.
John Moore 05.05.15
So here we go again, more dispatches from the front. Another hastily constructed, and barely edited, attempt to ‘raise awareness’ of the John Moore brand. We’ve had the decorators in. Marie-Louise Plum. I am, metaphorically speaking, standing on the pavement, with a sandwich board, ushering unsuspecting customers into my newly-furbished emporium of exotic and not so exotica, and if you are still reading this, I have succeeded. Come and have a look round, there’s plenty to see and read. It’s a culture hub, and I’m Boy John. The only thing we don’t have is an artisan bakery, and a mindfulness area.
The music link will take you to my Soundcloud page, where you can hear a selection of songs and albums. I will be adding to this as we go along. As well as my two recent albums, Lo-Fi Lullabies, and Floral Tributes, there is a genuine antique item up there, from the tight pants and hairspray era. I listened to it for the first time in years, yesterday, and almost had a stroke.
There are articles I have written for various publications, The Guardian, Select, as well as some rather smutty stories for The Erotic Review. Again, many more articles will follow. I do believe I have something cooking in The Grauniad, as we speak.
I will post a long excerpt from my novel Bad Light, for which I am currently seeking pledges to get published, along with a link to the Unbound Publishing Company. It’s currently at twenty-five percent of its target, so there is some way to go.
I paint, when the mood takes me, so there is a gallery of pictures to be viewed – not all are fit for the church art exhibition. There are several poems to read as well – should you have a mind to.
Lastly, there is a shop. At present, it’s a link to Cargo, my distributor, but over the course of the recent refurbishments, I have uncovered several ‘other’ items, which may be of interest to the serious collector.
So, that’s about it for now, I have a giant nude to finish. And the light is too good to waste. I’ll be more specific with my opinions on specific issues, in further missives, but here’s a general idea of how I stand: Whatever it is, I’m against it.
John Moore 2.4.15