The Batman

"...But you cry when you think of all the battles you've fought and lost..."

Jackets used to come with ticket pockets stitched inside the lining for the safe storage of your omnibus ticket, or your Saturday Matinee "Admit One" stub. The pocket is mostly gone now, but the rascally ticket has evolved so a pocket isn't even needed in the first place.
I'm admitted to the venue with a piece of plastic press-studded around my wrist, like a hospital armband. We are all voluntary inmates here, each with the same addiction. This is day one of EGX, London, a popular video game trade show. Everybody has the bug.

The Green Man

The first sip of beer smells like lipstick - grease and perfume. I check the rim of the glass, and sure enough there it is. I wonder who it was left their mark here.
It's early evening, and I look around the bar - which in these brave fresh days of underemployment is fast becoming a haunt. It's quiet. Just me, a group of young ladies at a nearby table and the usual barflies.

The Light Walk

(As many of you will know, my father passed away in December of last year. This is something I wrote at the time...) 

My last walk with my father was around the Longshaw Estate in the early part of 2013. It was perfect. We talked, we laughed - we had a great day with a fine pub meal afterwards in a crooked corner of an ancient, beautiful pub. We'd made plans to get out again for a short stroll or a light walk, but in the end we didn't quite manage it...

The Dinosaur Record

Dinosaurs are not all dead. The last of them slumber on the high street. Their strength gone. Their great bulk powerless against the oncoming download based ice age. I tiptoe across the slippery pavement as I pass by, avoiding the digital flurries already in the air. Don't breathe in - that could be Michael Bubble's latest album floating wirelessly towards someone's phone in frozen bits and bytes. Ugh, I got some in my mouth. The taste is bitter and strange.

Hello.

I am MarcusJJordan, and this is Broadly Acceptable.