Author Archives: Stephen Oliver Bulk

Over these past few months I have been looking back down the darkened valley of my life and it has not been a pleasant sight. It is a shallow ravine. Where there are deeper pools they are mostly filled with bitterness & regret. I am left with an over-whelming sense of pointlessness. This view hasContinue reading “Plague Times – August 21st 2020”

The grub street hacks have gone into a predictable bate about Bojo’s new escape plan – or what there is of it – and the whole issue descends into yet another cat fight that doesn’t look at all pretty to the watching masses. But I can’t help thinking all this political chaos is on ourContinue reading “Plague Times – Day 52”

The head clown himself comes on the idiot box at the appointed hour and announces we shall be released. But not yet and not by much and not sure how, but we can go about our business a bit more – but not too far and only a few and we should try not toContinue reading “Plague Times – Day 51”

I went to my wardrobe today. Not a visit I have made regularly in recent memory under the current circumstances. Pitt-Quickly – my ex-cohort of blessed times – had convened a virtual meeting of the City Oiks for his own purposes and I wanted to clad myself in an old Twerpps nearly 100% Liberian cottonContinue reading “Plague Times – Day 50”

VE day has come and gone, depressingly – from my point of view – as I couldn’t mark the occassion with a celebratory tincture owing to my still broken liver. I am however up and about with the help of Mother’s old sword stick and I was able to hobble to the window and watchContinue reading “Plague Times – Day 49”

Judging by the unholy noises emanating from the spare room, behind its closed and sealed door, Mitzi is upping her game on the virtual sex front. I genuinely can’t imagine what is going on in there in front of her interweb voyeurs, but if the sounds are anything to go by the throttling of largeContinue reading “Plague Times – Day 48”

47 days of solitary confinement give or take time off at the NHS’s pleasure. I thought we would be out after a couple of weeks so I could resume my old life of depleting Pomeroy’s wine cellar and dodging the repo man. The National state of affairs is still hard for this bear with aContinue reading “Plague Times – Day 47”

While our mop-topped leader adds another off-spring to the roster of nippers he can’t remember the names of… A very old soldier with a ‘can-do’ attitude has achieved more with his walking frame and a bit of gumption than all the lizards in Whitehall put together. Whatever practical accomplishments Colonel Tom has achieved (and 32Continue reading “Plague Times – Day 46”

Cushions are not the only changes Mitzi has wrought on my life. Some of my more entrenched possessions are gradually noticeable by their absence. Mother’s antimacassars have gone, leaving odd colour staining on the backs and sides of the G-Plan furniture. When questioned about my heirlooms Mitzi just shrugs in her Euro-indifferent way and saysContinue reading “Plague Times – Day 39-45”

Bojo is back from death’s door and ready to lead us into a new dawn… That would be slightly more comforting if the blond oaf hadn’t got himself mugged by the lurgy in the first place. Although I suppose expecting Boris to follow his own advice and social distance is like asking an alley catContinue reading “Plague Times – Day 38”